Sherlock Story
Forgotten Memories, Chapter 102
A disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to BBC along with the talented writers and amazing Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch. No money was made. The story, however, is my original thought and comes out of my overactive imagination. Other characters introduced are also mine.
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"An underlying principle in the chess strategy of the chess opening is to try to control the centre of the board.…"
… The Opening Move …
"When you have come to the edge of all light that you know
And are about to drop off into the darkness of the unknown
Faith is knowing One of two things will happen: There will be something solid to stand on
Or
You will be taught to fly"
~ Patrick Overton
Current Day
Current Time
John looked warily at his mobile for the third time in half an hour as he pressed his lips firmly together. He tapped a rhythmic beat with his feet. Sherlock stopped and stared wordlessly. When John realized that Sherlock was staring he frowned then stopped his foot from tapping. Sherlock went back to his experiment. John sighed… loudly. He glanced at the mobile again as he picked up the newspaper and stared at the printed pagers that he obviously was not reading. The rustling sound of the newspaper floated across the room as John's fingers clutched then released the thin paper without thought. He exhaled noisily.
Sherlock glanced at John with an annoyed expression.
"Just go John," the Consultant Detective said as he returned his attention to the interesting slide from one of his experiments. It was of the stomach contents of a rat. He was testing the rate of decomposition. It was for a case involving a body that was eaten by rats after lying around in a warehouse for almost a week before discovery.
"I'll wait until late this evening when Mycroft and Lestrade will be here." John's foot started to tap again.
The rustling sound of a page being turned caught Sherlock's attention, even though he knew that John was not paying attention to the newspaper that he was pretending to read. John did not notice that his left foot started to tap again, but this time the tapping sound had somehow increased in volume.
Sherlock lifted his eyes from his microscope lens and stared straight ahead, as he ground his teeth together so tightly that his jaw muscles were bulging. He moved his eyes only now to John. Sherlock knew he had to get John out of the flat, or he might be forced to murder the man, and that was not an option since he was rather fond of him. Not that he would admit it out loud. With anyone else but John, he would have not even attempted to restrain the sarcastic remarks that were floating around in his head.
He thought about informing John that Mycroft was out of the country and would not be joining them that evening, but realized that little fact would be counterproductive to the goal. The goal, of course, was to get John out the house before he drove him to madness. Sherlock thought for a moment. He abruptly got up and marched determinedly over to John.
It took John a few minutes to notice Sherlock's black leather shoes that were just visible under the edge of the extended newspaper. John frowned as he lowered his paper. He saw Sherlock staring at him with his arms folded and a frown on his face.
Just as, John started to open his mouth to ask Sherlock why he was standing over him, he felt a tug that pulled him up from his chair. The newspaper slipped from his hands.
"Oi," John started as Sherlock pulled the stuttering man toward the door. "What are you doing Sherlock?"
Sherlock did not slow his steps but reached for John's jacket as he spoke, "You'll be there and back in no more than five hours. You'll feel better when you know that Harry made it home safely despite her drinking and yes she is definitely drinking. Mycroft's men will trail you. You cannot wait until Lestrade gets here, he will not be here for another seven hours. If you start to travel then you'll get there so late, you will probably have to spend the night meaning that you will be gone longer." Sherlock managed to make his speech without taking a breath.
Most people would have known to stop there, but this was Sherlock. "Hurry John, I believe she is at the pub, and she sounded like she was getting ready to sing, I'm too sexy for my shirt again." Sherlock looked grim, "We both know what happens when she does that."
"That only happened once, Sherlock!" John argued.
"Once was enough, don't you think." Sherlock smiled falsely.
John would have argued further with Sherlock, but he had to admit to himself that Sherlock was right.
John ended the moment of silence when he looked down.
"Sherlock, I don't feel comfortable leaving you." Sherlock's response to his comment was to help John's arms into his coat.
"You do realize that I have lived alone before you came along. How much trouble can I possibly get into in just seven hours in our flat?" Sherlock smiled falsely as he wrapped a scarf around John's neck. Holmes did not notice that he said our flat instead of my flat, as he would have normally done.
John raised an eyebrow and pursed his lips staring.
Sherlock rolled his eyes annoyed now, "Go."
John exhaled a ragged breath, "I'll be back soon. Keep your phone close and answer when I call. I'm serious Sherlock."
"Yes, yes, and yes." Sherlock answered as his patience was tested.
John looked at Sherlock for a few minutes then nodded as he turned to leave.
"Oh," Sherlock said suddenly as his long legs quickly took him to the table and opened it with a rattle. He returned back to John in less than a minute.
He reached his hand out and gave the gun to John. John took it wordlessly, but Sherlock's hand let go slowly.
"Be careful John," the words came out automatically before Sherlock realized what he had said. Sherlock let go and then looked down briefly embarrassed before he looked back at John.
"Yes mother," John smiled as Sherlock huffed because his friend was teasing him.
John walked out the door, and soon after, the front door was heard as it closed. When he knew that John had left the building, Sherlock allowed himself a small smile.
Current Day
Current Time
Lestrade looked at the body. Another one. He was about to go over to Sherlock's flat with the files that Holmes had requested when the call came in. He would take the files over later, but it looked as if he would have to add another one.
The body was carefully poised on a bed. There was to be a wedding in seven days. Unfortunately, the groom would not be present. The DI squeezed the bridge of his nose. He picked up his mobile and made a call. "Donovan?" He waited as he heard what appeared to be her moving the mobile around in her hands.
"Lestrade, what happened?" Her rough voice answered.
"Did I wake you?" She usually was as bad as he was and stayed up late.
"No, no," She was silent and waited for him to continue.
"There's been another one. I'm no Sherlock Holmes, but I believe it to be connected." The Detective Inspector looked grimly at the body on the bed.
"I want Holmes at the scene, but I would prefer that he and Watson were picked up. I will bring them home. Bring Grifton with you."
"I'll get them Sir."
"Donovan," Lestrade said as he disconnected the mobile. He felt a headache coming on.
He looked at the mobile that was still in his hands.
Sherlock heard his mobile ring. "John," Sherlock said with irritation as he continued to look into the lens of his microscope. There was no answer, and the mobile rung several more times before it stopped ringing.
Within ten minutes, his mobile rang again. "John," Sherlock said with more irritation before remembering that John was at Harry's flat.
"Dull," he sighed.
After the third ring, Sherlock reached his long fingers and dug under the papers and books until he felt his mobile. He snatched his mobile and practically hissed "Holmes."
"There was another one." Lestrade said nothing else.
"Text me the address," Holmes rose.
"No, I have an officer who will get you."
"Not in a police car Lestrade. I'll take a cab." Holmes said firmly.
"A car or not at all." Lestrade said just as firmly. "Don't fight me on this one." Lestrade said quietly.
Sherlock knew that he was serious. "Fine," he said as he pouted like a petulant child.
There was a moment of silence before Sherlock's voice broke it.
"How soon," Sherlock asked more calmly as he quickly walked across the room and grabbed his dress jacket then his coat.
There was a background noise on the other line for a minute before Lestrade spoke again. "Donovan is on her way to you."
Sherlock paused in the middle of grabbing his scarf. He clutched the mobile more tightly and resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"I'm looking forward to it, he said." With a false cheer.
Lestrade snorted at the obvious lie. "I'm sure."
The call was disconnected as Holmes walked down the stairs. He paused as he now gave in to the urge to roll his eyes. He thought quickly. He sent a quick text to John.
I am reviewing a case with Lestrade, do not worry if you cannot reach me. *Send*
He kept his word. Moreover, if John mistakenly thought that he was reviewing case files with Lestrade at the flat that was not his fault.
Sherlock heard the sound of a car engine as it came to a stop outside. Holmes pulled up the collar of his soft black coat and walked confidently into the night.
A/N: Steven Moffat was interviewed, he said that there were three words that were clues to series three of Sherlock. The three words are scatter somewhere in the two chapters. Do you know what they are?
No pressure. Remember this supposed to be another fun question.
Let me know your thoughts.
Love to All,
Zacha