2: Has Sherlock Met His Match?
Happy birthday to me! :D Because it's my birthday I'm updating a lot of my fanfictions :D
Disclaimer: See ch. 1
Warnings: Mentions of blood (nothing new to the Sherlock fandom)
Noodle Fanatic - An OC, nothing more. Thanks! :)
John put down his book and looked at his watch. Nearly ten. "Well," he announced, "I'm going to bed." He stood up, glancing at his flatmate who was lying on his back on the couch. His blue dressing gown was on and he merely stared up at the ceiling with his fingers steepled under his chin. He didn't even give a mumble in acknowledgement.
A text tone broke the silent air. Quicker than you could say: Case, Sherlock had dove at his phone and looked at the message. "Lestrade. He has a case." He jumped up and grabbed his jacket and scarf.
"I was about to go to–"
"Surely you can last without a few more hours of sleep. Come along, John!" he called back. John groaned and reluctantly followed.
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Sherlock and John ducked under the police tape and walked onto the crime scene. They stepped into the kitchen and saw the victim lying on the ground, eyes wide and head split open, blood having pooled on the floor around him. 'Revenge' was written in large letters on the wall above him. The same word but in different languages were surrounding it. They weren't quite as large as the English word. "George Corlettee," said DI Lestrade, coming in from the dining room. "He was a Sargent at the Yard." He shook his head. "He was a good guy."
"But is he a good guy?" asked a voice from the doorway. Lestrade, John, and Sherlock turned to the person. It was Shanna. She now wore dark blue pants with a matching blazer. Her white shirt underneath and black shoes made her seem very businesslike. Parker was standing awkwardly next to her, as if not sure what to do in the situation. Shanna stepped into the room and began to gather everything in her mind.
"Who let her in here?" asked Lestrade, a bit annoyed. Donovan rushed in.
"Sorry, sir," she said. "She just walked right past us." She strode up to Shanna and Parker, making an attempt to escort them off of the scene.
"Buzz off," said Shanna simply. "Go be with that forensics expert or something. You wouldn't mind would you? I mean, after all, you have been spending a lot of time with each other haven't you? According to both of your scents, the wrinkles on both your clothes, and the shade of your lipstick." Shanna turned back to her observations.
Sally looked like she was going to burst.
"Simple deductions, really," said Sherlock, folding his arms and glaring at Shanna.
"Yes, indeed. Did you just manage to get them?" she asked him with a smirk. She looked at the Detective Inspector. "I've read the papers. Two missing people in one day? Both employed at Scotland Yard?" She shook her head with a tsk tsk. "Now look where it's led. A murder. Accident, really. This man was suppose to have been abducted. Things went wrong though, as you can clearly see."
"And I suppose you know where the weapon is, and who did it, and why?" Sherlock growled.
"Yes, no, and no," Shanna answered truthfully. "I don't know who did it or why they tried to kidnap this man, but I do know what the murder weapon is." She pointed at the corner of the table. "There. There's blood on the table. Hard to see because of the table's dark shade, but I noticed it because of skill. Skill which everyone else in this room clearly lacks."
Parker locked eyes with John and gave him an apologetic look for her flatmate's actions. John nodded understandingly and glanced at Sherlock. He'd never seen that expression on his friend's face before. His normal emotional mask had been dropped and he had a scowl on his face. He glared daggers at Shanna who merely smirked at his frustration and anger. Sherlock was clenching and unclenching his fists. Eventually he turned on his heel and walked out of the room without a word.
After a moment, John followed his friend from the crime scene. As he walked through the door, Parker grabbed his shoulder. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I am so, so sorry. I really didn't mean for–"
"It's not you who should be apologizing," he said. John broke free from the girl's grip and strode off after Sherlock.
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It wasn't long before Shanna and Parker were kicked off (almost literally) of the crime scene. "Congratulations," Parker said darkly, arms folded. "You managed to make enemies with the police and our neighbours within the first day of moving here…Within the same three minutes."
"Two minutes and forty-eight seconds," corrected Shanna.
Parker sighed and shook her head, looking at the ground. "Of course," she muttered. She looked back up to see Shanna walking briskly to the kerb to hail a taxi. With an annoyed groan, she followed after her friend, but missed it. Had she not made a vow to herself when she was young to never swear, she would have sworn right then. Parker was having a bad day and was frustrated. Very frustrated. Never a good combo. She just hoped not all would be lost in trying to make friends with the residents of 221B.
She hoped.
Thank you for taking time to read! Please review!