I am so sorry it has taken me so long to get this next chapter out, but I thought you might want to know I haven't abandoned this story at all, and have many more chapters planned. I'm not sure whether this one is a bit shorter, but I hope you're happy with it. Note: The name of a street in this story was not named after a real street as far as I am aware, and if it is it was not done purposely.
I think that's it...Please review, favourite and follow to find out what happens!
"Pass that here." Sherlock commanded, and without giving her any chance to protest, the mobile phone was removed from Molly's hand and the detective furiously typed in a message of sorts. This left the pathologist to sigh at the lack of Sherlock's manners, but continue in watching him work. She was used to his behaviour after all, and she had offered to help him. Hadn't she?
John turned to the mousy figure in the corner and stood there, still amazed by what had happened, "Well done! But, how did you do it?" He asked, clearly confused about the fact that she had managed to figure something out that one of the 'smartest men on earth' couldn't. Or at least, she did it faster.
"It was nothing, really. It didn't take much, most people set there phone passwords to the year they were born, and she looked about 17 or 18 so I tried it. I wasn't 100% sure it'd work. I'm quite surprised actually." Molly replied, smiling despite the fact the other man in the room had annoyed her.
John nodded and offered a warm smile towards her, before turning back to the very impolite Sherlock Holmes, "So what next?" He asked, also sounding slightly angry, but was far too used to the man's manners for that.
Without giving him any reply, Sherlock just looked at him before walking out of the doors of the morgue, silent through his voice, but his feet were slamming onto the ground every time he took a step. Maybe he didn't mean to do this purposely, but either way, it definitely made an effect.
Following the tall man, the 'blogger' chased after him, yelling his name as he followed, "Sherlock!" He was determined to force some politeness into him if it killed him. John disliked the way that Molly was constantly treated like she wasn't wanted by Sherlock, but in his rage, he hadn't noticed that he had left Molly alone once again without a proper explanation.
Sherlock continued to storm through the corridors of the hospital, leaving nurses and doctors everywhere pushed aside. Clicking the last button on the mobile, he lifted the phone to his ear and waited until the ringing stopped and the phone on the other side of the line was picked up, "Hello?" A quiet voice was pushed through the speakers, and without greeting, the detective began to speak, only asking, or demanding rather, for what he wanted, "Sherlock Holmes. Where do you live? I need to know. Tell me quickly." With no reply straight away, the impatient man continued to press for an answer, "Quicker." He said, this time much more irritated than the last time he had spoken.
"For goodness sakes, Sherlock!" John huffed, out of breath from running. His small legs were no match for the other man's much longer ones., "What are you doing anyway?" He said as he caught up with him.
"Just tell me where you live!" Sherlock grumbled into the phone, ignoring John, hoping that this time the woman would get the message, unaware of the fact that he may have terrified her.
"Sherlock! You can't talk to people like that!" John yelled, now both of them were stood stationary in the middle of the hospital as he snatched the mobile out of the detective's hands and brought it up to his own ear, to hear a slowly sobbing woman, "Hello, hi. I'm Dr. John Watson. Yes. Now, if you could please just tell me where you live, we need to do an interview. Er, yes, for the police. We just need to get some information. Would that be okay? Okay, thanks. Alright, see you soon. Bye." He huffed as he shoved the phone in his pocket, beginning to complain to Sherlock about his behaviour already.
Ignoring the sound of John's voice in his ear, Sherlock entered his mind palace, careful to act like he was completely knowing of what John was talking about, whatever that might be. Huffing, he lead them outside of St Barts Hospital doors and then turned to the smaller man, "So where to? I assume you got the address." He asked as he looked around for any taxis that might be passing by empty.
"14 Oak Avenue."
Sherlock nodded and then stuck his hand into the road in front of a passing taxi, and as they both got in, they told the driver the street and number, and they were off on another case.