Disclaimer: Still don't own Sherlock or Danny Phantom. Tho I wish I did.
We arrive at the 221B Baker street a little while after that. We enter the house and lean on our knees catching our breath. I take my jacket of and hang it on the hook for a second letting my core cool me down. the room lowers in temperature slightly. Sherlock who was in the process of taking of his Coat pauses tilts his head slightly and leaves it on.
"Okay, that was ridiculous." I breath out straightening as the cold relaxes me. Sherlock leans against the wall still trying to recover. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done." I comment chuckling. And I've done some pretty ridiculous shit.
"And you invaded Afghanistan." I hear Sherlock comment chuckling as well.
I giggle at that. Sherlock pauses before breaking out in hysterics as well.
"Hey, that wasn't just me." I retort crossing my arms mockingly. He keeps laughing bit it has calmed down. "Why aren't we back at the restaurant?" I ask uncrossing my arms.
Sherlock stops laughing before he waves his hand dismissively. "Oh, they can keep an eye out. It was a long shot anyway." He admits.
"So, what were we doing there?" I ask. He clears his throat. "Oh, just passing the time." He responds. I nod leaning against the wall next to him.
I turn to face him. "I tend to leave my room messy, I love the cold and seem to bring it wherever I go, and I'll probably be sleep deprived and annoying some days." I state giving him a serious look.
Sherlock tilts his head at me. I shrug. "You said that potential flat mates should know about the worst of each other." I state smirking.
Sherlock grins a childlike grin. Turning he calls loudly towards the door to Mrs. Hudson's ground floor flat. "Mrs. Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."
I chuckle again at his antics. Yep I think I'll like living here.
I go to grab my jacket when Mrs. Hudson comes out of her flat and hurries over to us. She sounds upset and tearful as she speaks.
"Sherlock, what have you done?" She asks fearfully. What? I put on my jacket as Sherlock addresses her.
"Mrs. Hudson?"
She shakes her head and points up the stairs. "Upstairs."
Sherlock turns and hurries up the stairs, I follow. Sherlock opens the living room door and goes inside, stepping as well I stand next to Sherlock as he stares at D.I. Lestrade sitting casually in the armchair facing the door. Other police officers are going through Sherlock's possessions. Sherlock storms over to Lestrade.
"What are you doing?" He almost yells.
They must have done this rodeo various time cause Lestrade doesn't even flinch. "Well, I knew you'd find the case. I'm not stupid."
"You can't just break into my flat!"
"And you can't withhold evidence. And I didn't break into your flat." Wow I'm surprised none of them have blown a gasket yet. I think staying behind and observing the spectacle.
"Well, what do you call this then?" Sherlock retorts ignoring Lestrade's comment.
Lestrade looks round at his officers before looking back to Sherlock innocently. "It's a drug bust."
I chuckle. Oh, this is hilarious. "Seriously?!This guy, a junkie?! Have you met him?!" I ask pointing my thumb at Sherlock.
Sherlock turns and walks closer to me, biting his lip. "John..." He whispers. I ignore him.
"I'm pretty sure you could search this flat all day, you wouldn't find anything you could call recreational." I state waving my hand to the area.
I can feel Sherlock tense next to me. "John, you probably want to shut up now."
I turn to him and shrug slightly. "Yeah, but come on..." I start but trail of. I look into Sherlock's eyes. He holds my gaze for a long moment, his blue eyes are hard but have a panicked look in them.
"No." I whisper loudly.
He glances at the officers in the room somewhat nervously. "What?" he whispers back
"You?" I ask keeping my voice down so Lestrade doesn't hear me.
"Shut up!" He whispers yells glaring at me before turning his attention back to the D.I. "I'm not your sniffer dog." He says his knuckles turning white from how hard he's closing them.
"No, Anderson's my sniffer dog." Lestrade responds nodding towards the kitchen.
Sherlock tilts his head as he turns towards the kitchen. "What, An..."
I was glancing around the room when the closed doors to the kitchen slide open and reveal several more officers in there searching through the room. Anderson turns towards the living room and raises his hand in sarcastic greeting.
If looks could kill Anderson would be a block of ice right now. Now that I think about it, he does annoy me... "Anderson, what are you doing here on a drug bust?" Sherlock all but yelled.
Anderson sneered. "Oh, I volunteered." The venom I n his voice was almost touchable.
Sherlock turns away, biting his lip angrily.
Lestrade pipes up again. "They all did. They're not strictly speaking on the drugs squad, but they're very keen."
Donovan comes into view from the kitchen, holding a small glass jar with some white round objects in it. Are those eyes?
"Are these human eyes?" She says voicing my question.
Sherlock looks like he's about to explode. "Put those back!"
"They were in the microwave!" She retaliates.
"It's an experiment." Poor dude he's getting bullied by the police.
"Keep looking, guys." Lestrade said standing up to meet the fretting sociopath. "Or you could help us properly and I'll stand them down." He says to him.
Sherlock at this point was pacing the room his face flush in anger. "This is childish." He says as he walked. I kept back feeling his anger in waves and wanting to stay out of range.
"Well, I'm dealing with a child." Lestrade said shaking his head. "Sherlock, this is our case. I'm letting you in, but you do not go off on your own. Clear?" He asked giving him a pointed look.
Sherlock stops his pacing his icy glare set on the D.I. "Oh, what, so-so-so you set up a pretend drug bust to bully me?" He asks stuttering slightly in his anger and frustration.
"It stops being pretend if they find anything." He replies easily.
"I am clean!" Sherlock practically screams.
"Is your flat? All of it?" Lestrade counters, not backing down.
"I don't even smoke." Says exasperated lifting his sleeve to reveal one patch. Hang on didn't he have three earlier?
Lestrade lifts his own sleeve as well. "Neither do I." He says his eyes locked with Sherlocks. Sherlock rolls his eyes and turns away and they both pull their sleeves back down again.
"So, let's work together. We've found Rachel." He said crossing his arms.
This seemed to perk Sherlock up a bit. "Who is she?" He demands.
"Jennifer Wilson's only daughter." He responds calmly.
Sherlock frowns tilting his head. "Her daughter? Why would she write her daughter's name? Why?"
Andersons voice pops up from the kitchen. "Never mind that. We found the case." He points to the pink suitcase in the living room.
"According to someone, the murderer has the case, and we found it in the hands of our favorite psychopath." He said glaring in our general direction.
Sherlock doesn't even glance at him. "I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research." He says waving him of. "You need to bring Rachel in. You need to question her. I need to question her." He continues.
"She's dead." Lestrade responded calmly.
Sherlock smiles excitedly. "Excellent!" He says clapping his hands together.
I jump slightly. Wow this guy doesn't know anything about decency. She could be a have been a ghost I've met before for crying out loud. Shifting uncomfortably, I clear my throat.
"How, when and why? Is there a connection? There has to be." He continues his attention completely on Lestrade.
"Well, I doubt it, since she's been dead for fourteen years. Technically she was never alive. Rachel was Jennifer Wilson's stillborn daughter, fourteen years ago." He responds. Oh, my god. So, Rachel is not a name for someone.
I cringe slightly turning my gaze to my feet, huh I think I'm going have to buy new converses. Sherlock, on the other hand, just looks confused.
Sherlock furrowed his eyebrows narrowing his eyes. "No, that's ... that's not right. How ... Why would she do that? Why?" He asks out loud turning to me.
"Why would she think of her daughter in her last moments? Yup – sociopath; I'm seeing it now." He said his disgust for Sherlock evident.
Sherlock turned to face Anderson his annoyance clear. "She didn't think about her daughter. She scratched her name on the floor with her fingernails. She was dying. It took effort. It would have hurt." He said putting emphasis on hurt. He begins to pace back and forth across the room again.
Okay Fenton think, put that genius's son mind to work. "You said that the victims all took the poison themselves, that he makes them take it. Well, maybe he... talks to them? Maybe he used the death of her daughter somehow." I suggest.
He stops his pacing and turns to me. "Yeah, but that was ages ago. Why would she still be upset?" He asked his head tilted in confusion. Everything seemed to stop for me, as I stare at Sherlock in the eye.
Okay I get that he's a sociopath but seriously that's just cold... was this type of coldness what I was looking for in that alternate dimension? I shake my head to clear it as I hear Sherlock speak. "Not good?"
I glance around the room. Everyone had stopped what they were doing and were staring at us. "Yah think? Jesus Sherlock I know you're a sociopath but at least try to show some emotion!" I say trying to lift the mood.
Sherlock looks around one more time before looking at me intently again. "Yeah, but if you were dying ... if you'd been murdered: in your very last few seconds what would you say?" He asked.
Oh, there are a lot of things I would say, were to begin? This can't, be it? Who's going to protect the town now? What will my parents do? It can't end like this? In the end, I say the one where it would fit best with the whole going to war thing. "Please, God, let me live."
Sherlock doesn't seem satisfied with my answer. "Oh, use your imagination!"
I sigh. This fucking Coocoo bird. "I don't have to." I say with a pained look in my eye as I think about all the times either me or one of my friends almost died.
Sherlock seems to recognize the look of pain in my face. He pauses momentarily and blinks a couple of times, shifting his feet apologetically before continuing. "Yeah, but if you were clever, really clever ... Jennifer Wilson running all those lovers: she was clever." He said walking around the room again. "She's trying to tell us something." He said. And that got my gears turning.
Mrs. Hudson comes to the door of the living room. "Isn't the doorbell working? Your taxi's here, Sherlock." She says from the door but I barely register it. Hmm wait a minute she didn't have a laptop in her case, so she might do everything on her phone so that means...
"I didn't order a taxi. Go away." Sherlock said rudely as he keeps pacing.
Mrs. Hudson looks around the room. "Oh, dear. They're making such a mess. What are they looking for?" She asks as I head over to the case again to check something.
"It's a drug bust, Mrs. Hudson." I hear Lestrade say behind me.
I can hear the anxiety in her voice. "But they're just for my hip. They're herbal soothers."
Anyways I check the case and soon enough on the label there's an email. That's it! "Ah hah! Sherlock I think I figured it out!" I say out loud.
Sherlock stops his pacing and looks at me, so do the rest of the people on the room. "Really pray tell." He says waving his hand.
I take a deep breath before explaining. "So, I was thinking what if Rachel wasn't a name but a password. Most people do it all the time put the names of their children as passwords. So, I realized that it had to be a password. That's when I remembered that I didn't see a laptop in her case so she probably did all her work on her phone so it probably works with email. So, all we have to do is..." I say making my way to the computer and typing in the Mephone's website and typing the email address into the 'User name' box. "type in the email with the password which is." I trail of to see if anyone was with me.
I hear Sherlock clap his hands together. "Rachel! That's it John well done, there might be some intelligence in you yet!"
"Ah! She was clever, clever, yes!" I could hear the excitement and joy in his voice. "She's cleverer than most of you lot and she's dead. Do you see, do you get it? She didn't lose her phone, she never lost it. She planted it on him." He said as I waited for the site to load.
"When she got out of the car, she knew that she was going to her death. She left the phone to lead us to her killer." He continues to explain for the rest of the people who by their silence haven't figured it out yet.
"But how?" I hear Lestrade ask. Turning in my seat I face him.
"What do you do when you lose a smart phone like Jeniffer's?" I ask before Sherlock could insult him.
"I use the GPS on it to locate it. But for that you need to know h- oh." He said but stopped in the middle of his sentence.
"Since we now have access to her email we ca-" I was interrupted by Anderson who still doesn't seem to get it. "So, we can read her e-mails. So, what?"
I glare at him and was about to retort but Sherlock beat me to it.
"Anderson, don't talk out loud. You lower the I.Q. of the whole street. We can do much more than just read her e-mails. It's a smartphone, it's got GPS, which means if you lose it you can locate it online. She's leading us directly to the man who killed her." He explained.
"Unless he got rid of it." Lestrade says skeptically.
"We know he didn't." I say as the site finally loads up.
Sherlock looks at the screen impatiently. "Come on, come on. Quickly!"
Mrs. Hudson calls at the door again. "Sherlock, dear. This taxi driver ..."
Sherlock walks over towards her. "Mrs. Hudson, isn't it time for your evening soother?"
I turn around in the chair again and Watch the clock spinning round on the website as it claims that the phone will be located in under three minutes. I hear Sherlock start to discuss something with Lestrade.
"We need to get vehicles, get a helicopter. We're gonna have to move fast. This phone battery won't last forever." He said
"We'll just have a map reference, not a name." Lestrade said.
"It's a start!" Sherlock exclaimed.
On the computer, a map has appeared and is now zooming in on the location of the phone.
"Sherlock ..." I say still staring at the computer.
"It narrows it down from just anyone in London. It's the first proper lead that we've had." Sherlock kept talking to Lestrade.
"Sherlock ..." I say again. Maybe the signal is faulty?
This tine Sherlock must have heard me cause he was suddenly looking over my shoulder. "What is it? Quickly, where?"
I stare at the map for a second, right there blinking was the location of the phone. "It's here. It's in two two one Baker Street."
"How can it be here? How?" Sherlock asked in disbelief.
"Well, maybe it was in the case when you brought it back and it fell out somewhere." Lestrade suggested.
"What, and I didn't notice it? Me? I didn't notice?" Sherlock questioned himself.
I turn to Lestrade. "Anyway, we texted him and he called back."
Lestrade nods as he turns to his colleagues. "Guys, we're also looking for a mobile somewhere here, belonged to the victim ..."
As the police search the place I try the search again but get the same result. Turning to Sherlock I was about to ask what we should do when I notice that he's zoned out.
"Sherlock, you okay?" I ask him as he stares at the door for a moment.
"What? Yeah, yeah, I-I'm fine." He says vaguely as he makes for the door.
"So, how can the phone be here?" I ask, but in starting to think in not going to get the answer I need.
The consulting detective shook his head. "Dunno."
I stood and grabbed my phone from my jacket pocket. "I'll try it again." I suggest opening my phone.
"Good idea." He says heading out the door.
"Where are, you going?" I call after him.
"Fresh air. Just popping outside for a moment. Won't be long." He called back.
I frowns as Sherlock leaves the room, following I call from the stairs. "You sure you're all right?"
"I'm fine." He said heading outside.
Huh that's weird… even for him. I return to the flat and glance out the window. Outside Sherlock is talking to a cabbie? Why in blazes would he be doing that? Curios I send one of my clones to listen to their conversation.
The cabbie looks up at Sherlock. "Taxi for Sherlock 'olmes."
Sherlock steps forward, closing the door behind him. "I didn't order a taxi."
What? Then why is the cabbie there? "Doesn't mean you don't need one." He responds shrugging.
"You're the cabbie. The one who stopped outside Northumberland Street." Sherlock said stepping forward. "It was you, not your passenger." He said.
"See? No-one ever thinks about the cabbie. It's like you're invisible. Just the back of an 'ead. Proper advantage for a serial killer." The man confesses.
Sherlock takes a few more steps forward and looks up towards the windows of the flat. "Is this a confession?" He asks eying the man suspiciously.
"Oh, yeah. An' I'll tell you what else: if you call the coppers now, I won't run. I'll sit quiet and they can take me down, I promise." He said raising his hands and ducking his head slightly.
"Why?" Sherlock asked doubtfully.
"'Cause you're not gonna do that." The other responds confidently.
"Am I not?" Sherlock says skeptically.
"I didn't kill those four people, Mr. 'olmes. I spoke to 'em ... and they killed themselves. An' if you get the coppers now, I promise you one thing." He said leaning forward. "I will never tell you what I said."
Sherlock stares at him. After a moment, the stranger straightens up and starts to walk around the front of the cab.
"No-one else will die, though, and I believe they call that a result." Sherlock said shrugging his shoulders, but not moving an inch.
The other stops and turns back towards him. "An' you won't ever understand how those people died. What kind of result do you care about?" He asked continuing on his way to the driver's seat of the car. Getting in, he sits down and closes the door, settling into his seat and ignoring Sherlock. Biting his lip, Sherlock walks closer to the cab, looking up again at the flat windows, then he bends and looks into the open side window of the cab. What is this Coocoo bird doing, why hasn't he called up for the cops?
"If I wanted to understand, what would I do?" He asks the driver.
He turns to face Sherlock. "Let me take you for a ride."'
Sherlock straighten. "So, you can kill me too?" He asked narrowing his eyes.
The cabbie shook his head. "I don't wanna kill you, Mr. 'olmes. I'm gonna talk to yer ... and then you're gonna kill yourself." He said smiling softly.
He turns to face the front again. Sherlock straightens up, his eyes lost in thought as he considers the situation. The cabbie calmly sits gazing out of the front window, then smiles in satisfaction when the rear door opens. The cab dips as Sherlock gets in and then the door slams shut. The driver starts the engine.
As they drive of my clone fusses with my body again. I hold he phone to my ear as I watch the cab leave. "The Coocoo bird just got into a cab with a serial killer?" I mutter before turning to Lestrade. "It's Sherlock. He just drove off in a cab." I inform him.
Donovan, who was standing next to him growled in frustration. "I told you, he does that." She tells me before turning to Lestrade. "He bloody left again." She walks back into the kitchen, talking loudly. "We're wasting our time!"
I ignore her. "I'm calling the phone. It's ringing out." I tell Lestrade keeping the phone to my ear.
He watches me for a second before sighing. "If it's ringing, it's not here."
I drop my arm as the line disconnects. Okay then the search should work now. I grab the computer and do the search again.
Donovan comes back to confront Lestrade. "Does it matter? Does any of it? You know, he's just a lunatic, and he'll always let you down, and you're wasting your time. All our time." She says in frustration.
Wait hasn't he helped in various cases before this and succeed? As I wait for the site to find the phone I hear Lestrade yell to his officers. "Okay, everybody. Done 'ere."
Everyone sigh as they start packing the equipment. Little by little the officers start to leave. "Why did he do that? Why did he have to leave?" Lestrade asks looking at me.
Uh cause he's a Coocoo bird with a death wish? "You know him better than I do." I respond, I have a feeling that he wants to do this alone.
Lestrade shook his head. "I've known him for five years and no, I don't."
Woah, five years and he still asks for his help? "So why do you put up with him?"
He gives me a tired smile. "Because I'm desperate, that's why." He walks to the door, pausing he turns back. "And because Sherlock Holmes is a great man. And I think one day, if we're very, very lucky, he might even be a good one." He turns again this time leaving as well.
I stand in the flat for a while waiting for the site to find the phone. They must be moving far if the phone is on constant motion for so long. I float a bit in front of the computer, listening for anyone in case someone enters the flat. Okay ill just wait for the site to find the phone. Then I'll call Lestrade before flying over there. Yep sounds like a good plan.
Oh, I should probably tell Mycroft as well. I think grabbing my phone I call Mycroft. After a couple of rings, he picks up. "I'm assuming something happened with Sherlock?" I hear from the other end of the line. "Yeah he got in a cab with a serial killer." I say calmly. "What? And why didn't you stop him?" He asks slight panic in his voice. "And before you send in secret service don't worry I'm going to get him." I reassure as the site dings. "Oh, gotta go I'll call you when I get him." I say as I go to hang up. "Danny wa-"I hear Mycroft say before I hang up. Okay let's see… huh why a College?
Grabbing my phone I call Lestrade to let him know that the phone is at Roland-Kerr Further Education College before transforming.
I turn invisible and faze through the window. Looking around I head in the direction I saw the cab leave. After a accouple of bad turns I reach the College. "Oh, come on which building is it?" I say out loud looking in between the buildings. "Oh, fuck it I can check both." I mumble creating a clone. I head to the building on the right and my clone goes to the one on the left. I de-transform and start running through the halls.
"Sherlock?" I call out as I run. "Sherlock!" I check the doors and peer in through windows. After a couple of failed I finally find the right room. "Sherlock!" I say entering the room.
Sherlock turns to me confused. "John? What are you doing here?" He asked confused.
"I came to save your sorry ass that's what." As we talked the cabbie stood from where he was sitting.
"It looks like ill have two victims instead of one today." He said ignoring our bickering. "You know I bet you get bored, don't you? I know you do. A man like you ..."
Sherlock looks at the bottle he as examining when I entered. I stare at the contents, those must be the pills the victims take. Sherlock unscrews the lid. Oh no. "Don't do it Sherlock!" I say taking a step forward.
"I wouldn't move if I were you." I hear the cabbie say. Glancing at him I notice the gun he has in his hand. I stay put.
"So, clever. But what's the point of being clever if you can't prove it?" He continues turning his gaze on Sherlock but keeping the gun trained on me.
Sherlock takes out the capsule and holds it between his thumb and finger, raising it to the light to examine it more closely.
"Sherlock don't listen to him! Remember this is what he does!" I yell but Sherlock doesn't seem to be listening.
"Still the addict." He says, as Sherlock slowly lowers the pill again, holding it at eye level and gazing at it.
"But this ...this is what you're really addicted to, innit?" The cabbie keeps talking.
Sherlock holds the pill in his fingers and stares at it. Don't do it Sherlock your cleverer than that.
"You'd do anything... anything at all..." He continues.
Sherlock's fingers begin to tremble with excitement and anticipation. He's actually excited?
"...to stop being bored." The cabbie finishes taking out his own pill?
Slowly Sherlock begins to move the pill closer to his mouth. The cabbie matches the movement with his own pill towards his own mouth. "Don't do it Sherlock!" I yell trying desperately to stop him.
"You're not bored now, are you?" The cabbie says smiling. Both of their hands gets closer to their mouths. "Innit good?"
"Stop!" I scream as a blast is heard and the cabbie shouts dropping his pill. He falls to the ground gasping in pain as a burn starts to form on his chest. I connect with my clone who had just shot an ecto-blast from the other building. The clone flies over and fusses with me as we hear sirens coming from outside.
Sherlock who had dropped his pill in surprise, turns, slides over the desk behind him and hurries to the window, bending down, he stares through the hole in the glass. The window of the opposite room has a similar whole but there is nobody in sight. As Sherlock straightens up, the cabbie breathes heavily and coughs. Sherlock turns back, looking around the room and seeing one of the pills lying on the desk as the cabbie convulses on the floor and gasps and coughs in pain. Sherlock snatches up the pill, kneels and brandishes it at him. The other seemed to be having an aneurism.
"Was I, right?" Sherlock asks showing the pill.
The cabbie turns his head away in disbelief.
"I was, wasn't I? Did I get it, right?" Sherlock asks again shaking him.
He doesn't reply. Sherlock angrily hurls the pill across the room and stands up. "Okay, tell me this: your sponsor. Who was it? The one who told you about me – my 'fan'. I want a name."
Wait Sherlock has a fan?
"No." The cabbie weakly says.
"You're dying, but there's still time to hurt you. Give me a name." Sherlock threatens. He's not going to do that, right? He's just bluffing.
The cabbie shakes his head. Grimacing angrily, Sherlock lifts his foot and puts it onto his shoulder. He gasps in pain. Okay he would. "Sherlock stop! You're hurting him!" I yell finally moving from my spot. I can hear the police making their way upstairs.
He ignores me completely. "A name." The cabbie yells out in pain. "Now." He growls. I grab Sherlocks shoulder. "Sherlock stop this." I say turning him to face me.
The cabbie whines in pain. His face intent and manic, Sherlock shakes me loose and leans his weight onto his foot. The other whimpers.
Sherlock shouts furiously. "The NAME!"
The other screams in agony. "MORIARTY!" His eyes close and his head rolls to the side. Sherlock steps back, turning his head away and looking reflective. After a few seconds, he silently mouths the word 'Moriarty' to himself. I shake my head. "Sherlock, you just finished killing him." I state as the police enter the room. Sherlock ignores me.
Outside the college, were sitting on the back steps of an ambulance. A paramedic puts an orange blanket around Sherlocks shoulders as Lestrade walks over. Sherlock gestures to the blanket. "Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me." He says confused. I chuckle. "It's for shock Sherlock I already explained this." I had one on my shoulders as well.
"I'm not in shock." Sherlock counters. Lestrade chuckles. "Yeah, but some of the guys wanna take photographs." He grins. Sherlock rolls his eyes.
"So, the shooter. No sign?" I ask even though I know they won't find him.
"Cleared off before we got 'ere. But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him but…" he shrugs. "...got nothing to go on." He informs.
Sherlock looks at him pointedly. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." He says shrugging.
Now it's Lestrade's turn to roll his eyes. "Okay, gimme." He sighs.
Sherlock smirks. "Well obviously, from the distance of the shot and where the burn mark is on the cabbies shoulder, the shooter has aim, their hands didn't shake and they waited until I was in immediate danger to shoot. So probably has a good moral principal, you're looking for someone in the military, with nerves of steel. What I can't figure out is the weapon used." Sherlock finished placing a hand under his chin.
I roll my eyes. Can't this guy tell what a ecto-blast shot is? "It was an ecto-blast, so you're dealing with a ghost." I say casually. They both turn to me.
"How do you know that?" Sherlock asked curious.
"What haven't you dealt with ghosts before?" I ask chuckling. When they both stayed, silent I cleared my throat. "Oh, huh, guess they stayed close to America then." I say scratching my head in thought.
They blinked at me. "Wait you saying your American?" Lestrade asked.
"Yeah from Amity Park, ghost capitol of the world." I say shrugging.
"Huh, that will prove useful if ghosts come to London. Anyways come on John I believe our work here is done." Sherlock says standing to leave. I roll my eyes and follow.
"But I've still got questions for you." Lestrade said following.
"Oh, what now? I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket!" Sherlock whines brandishing the sides of the blanket at Lestrade as if to prove it.
"Sherlock!" Lestrade says in frustration and amusement.
"And I just caught you a serial killer... more or less." He says smugly.
Lestrade looks at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Okay. We'll bring you in tomorrow. Off you go." He says making a shoo motion with his hand.
We walk away. Taking the blanket from around his shoulders, Sherlock bundles it up and throws it into the open window of a car and ducks under the police tape.
After a while Sherlock chuckles. "Wow this has been exciting." He comments.
"Really? Well yeah but really?" I ask him.
"Yeah, though he was a bad cabbie. You should have seen the route he took us to get here!" He comments of handedly.
I start to giggle and he smiles. "Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!" I say to myself.
He chuckles.
"You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?" I say after I calm down.
Sherlock stops and turns to me. "Course I wasn't. Biding my time. I knew that if you showed up the police weren't far behind." He says casually.
"No, you didn't. It's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever." I state looking him in the eye.
"Why would I do that?" He replies acting clueless.
I smile as I look forward. "Because you're an idiot."
Sherlock smiles, apparently delighted that he has finally found someone who understands him and – more to the point – doesn't care about his behavior. After a moment, he forces the smile down. "Dinner?"
"Starving." I reply. We start walking again.
"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open 'til two. You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock says. As he speaks, a few yards ahead of us a car has pulled up and Mycroft gets out. Anthea is with him. I stare.
"Sherlock. That's him. That's the man I was talking to you about."
Sherlock looks across to Mycroft. "I know exactly who that is." He growls waling closer to him. Wait he knows Mycroft.
"So, another case cracked. How very public spirited ... though that's never really your motivation, is it?" Mycroft asks as we approach.
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock asks through gritted teeth.
"John called, I'm concerned about you." He replied coolly.
"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'." Sherlock growls.
Mycroft frowns slightly at the lack of surprise from Sherlock. I smirk at that. "Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" He asks the detective.
"Oddly enough, no!" Sherlock retorts like a child.
"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer ... and you know how it always upset Mummy." Mycroft says shaking his head.
Wait did I hear that right. I think frowning.
"I upset her? Me?" Sherlock says offended.
Mycroft glowers at him.
"It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft." Sherlock says.
"Wait your related to Mycroft?" I ask. They both turn to me.
"Yes, but how do you know him?" Sherlock asks me.
"He enlisted me in the army in the first place." I say, it's not the whole truth but its close enough.
Sherlock doesn't seem convinced but lets it slide.
He turns to Mycroft again. "Putting on weight again?"
"Losing it, in fact." He replies crossing his arms.
I roll my eyes. Yeesh this two are children. "Well Mycroft it was nice seeing you but we should go. Sherlock is recovering from shock." I say gesturing to him. Sherlock glares but takes the opportunity to leave. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic." He says before leaving.
I go to follow but stop. Turning to Mycroft I ask. "So, when-when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?"
"Yes, of course." He says as if it were obvious.
"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?" I say pointing between them.
He watches his brother go as he answers. "He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners." He chuckles slightly.
"Yeah ... no. God, no!" I say as I turn to follow Sherlock. "Well see you around!"
'Good night, Doctor Watson." I hear Mycroft say as I catch up with Sherlock.
"So: dim sum." I say to him.
"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies."
"No, you can't."
"Almost can."
"Lucky guess."
"I never guess."
"Yes, you do." I say looking across to Sherlock, who is smiling. "What are you so happy about?" I ask curious.
"Moriarty." He replies simply.
"You mean the name you basically tortured that guys for? What's so important about it?"
Sherlock claps his hands together. "I've absolutely no idea." He says cheerfully.
I roll my eyes at his antics.
3rd POV
Back at the car, Anthea turns to Mycroft who is watching the boys as they walk away. "Sir, shall we go?"
"Interesting, how they bonded." Mycroft says as he watches them depart.
Anthea looks briefly at the departing boys, then turns her attention back to her BlackBerry.
"Dann could be the making of my brother – or make him worse than ever. Either way, we'd better upgrade their surveillance status. Grade Three Active." Mycroft says to her.
Anthea looks up from her phone. "Sorry, sir. Whose status?" She asks him.
"Sherlock Holmes and Danny Fenton."
Aaaaaaaaaaaand done! Whew finally! A study in Pink is done! Next chapter I'll start with original cases, can't wait! I'm sorry for not posting last week, I was drowning in school work. I promise to have an extra-long chapter for next week to make it up to you guys. See ya later!
Word count: 6327