Your POV
You expected to hear many things on the beach, but not gunshots.
You had parked your boat, the S.S. True Love, back into the dock for the day. Throwing your notebook and pen into your satchel along with seawater sample you collected near the reef, you wiped the sweat of your brow onto your sleeve, which smelled strongly of seawater. I really need a shower, you thought. You were just about to open the door to your cab when you heard the initial shots.
POW! POW!
You immediately ducked and saw the five men in the distance on the beach; they shot at least eight, as you could tell by the blood. The gunmen were all dressed in black and in masks. They seemed to kneel down to the victims, which took you by surprise. The cabbie, a dark-complexioned woman, pulled you into her cab protectively and she drove away quickly.
You ran into your flat, where you noticed (BFN) talking to her boss, Ellen Ross, a blonde woman in her forties.
…
Best friend's POV
(BFN) poured the woman a cup of tea.
"I'm so glad you could join me for dinner, Ellen!" She beamed.
"Anything for my rising star!" she said, smiling back.
The woman sipped her tea.
"You have increased sales significantly just by modeling in the ads. You are a fashion icon, (BFN). Do you realize what this means? Audrey Hepburn did for Tiffany's what you're doing for this company. That's why I think you should quit your job as an advertising executive…." She sipped her tea again. (BFN) tensed up.
"… and take a raise as a model for our commercials instead. We'd pay you to be our 'Marlboro Man' of sorts, only for Mademoiselle Collette. Think of it! We have a perfume line called La Attraction. It needs some intriguing appeal." She sipped her tea.
"Well, I… I don't know what to say." (BFN) said.
"Say yes, of course!" Ellen laughed, her vivid red lipstick highlighting her laughing lips. The two hugged, Ellen's white pantsuit momentarily getting caught in (BFN)'s dress.
"Yes! I'll take the job!" (BFN) said.
Just then, you burst through the door, eyes widened, and panting.
…
Sherlock's POV
It is a slow day for crime, Sherlock thought. John sat across from him, typing on his laptop yet again.
"Did you find anything on my blog?" Sherlock asked.
"I don't know. Let me check." John opened a new tab on his computer.
"Nope. Nothing." John answered finally.
"I suppose I'll turn on the telly." Sherlock decided.
Sherlock's mouthed gaped open.
"Oh no… not her…" He stood up and ran to the flat.
Sherlock opened the door to find (BFN) sitting with a woman, presumably her boss, and (Y/N) standing in front of them, looking at each other inquisitively. The two women and you glanced over at Sherlock, growing even more confused.
"At Camber Sands….there was a massacre. I came to make sure everyone was alright." He said.
John stood behind Sherlock. (BFN) turned on their T.V. set. The news further explained the story.
Sherlock turned to grab his beeping phone.
Massacre at Camber Sands. Come at once.
-Lestrade
"Come on, John. We have a crime scene to go to." Sherlock said, turning to leave.
"I'm going too." You said, grabbing your hoodie and phone.
"Oh, no, you're not." Sherlock said, pulling the hoodie away from you.
"Why not?" You demanded.
"I thought I lost you once, but I'm not going to lose you again." Your eyes widened at his words, and widened even further once he placed a kiss on your lips.
"Oh, yes, I am! And on the way there you're going to explain to me why you just did that!" You replied haughtily.
"That's easy; the same reason you did whilst I was pretending to sleep." Sherlock said.
Your eyebrows raised, blood rushing to the inside of your cheeks.
"I…I.." You stammered, trying to think of an excuse.
"You know, not many people wear that color of lip gloss. I know I don't. I know John doesn't. I know. You. Do." This time when he leant down, you kissed each other passionately, out of infatuation for each other.
You both panted as you broke apart, realizing that there were three other people in the room. They were all smiling.
"You owe me ten." John said to (BFN). She gave him money out of her wallet.
"You were taking bets?" You asked them.
"Yep." They answered in unison.
"So everyone knew about the kiss?" You asked Sherlock.
"Except for Mrs. Ross. She knows now, though." He answered.
"Ms. Ross, dear. I'm divorced." Ellen called.
You looked into Sherlock's eyes.
"Look…I…promise I won't get lost." You said.
"I believe you. Why don't you get cleaned up first? There's no hurry." He assured you, placing a hand around your back.
"Thanks."
…
You were ready to go now, wearing a striped sweater, dark jeans, boots, and your coat.
"Sherlock? John?" You called into the flat. They were nowhere to be found. Nor was your own roommate, apparently.
"Where could they have gone?" You thought to yourself. You walked over to the note on your fridge.
Went to get milk, we ran out
-(BFN)
You wondered why your phone wasn't working as you texted Sherlock and John. You sighed and went down the steps to use the phone booth down the block. You dialed the number, which you were surprised that you remembered. When you did, the phone rang instead. Confused, you answered it.
"…Hello? You must have the wrong number. This is a phone booth."
"Get in the cab." A man said on the other end of the phone.
"Excuse me?" You asked.
"Look to your left. It's a camera." You did, noticing it.
"There are cameras all around you. I would make some sort of threat, but I'm sure you are aware of the situation that you're in. Good evening, Miss (L/N)."
"Now wait right there!" You said. You were sure that this was an elaborate prank. The line went dead. You noticed a man holding a cab door open for you. Sighing, you got in.