Hello Detective (Sherlock Imagine) Chapter 6
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30 Part 31 Part 32 Part 33 Part 34 Part 35 Part 36 Part 37 Part 38 Part 39 Part 40 Part 41 Part 42 Part 43 Part 44 Part 45 Part 46 Part 47 Part 48 Part 49 Part 50 Part 51 Part 52 Part 53 Part 54 Part 55 Part 56 Part 57 Part 58 Part 59
Your name: submit What is this?
Finally your cab pulled up to John and Sherlock’s new flat. You paid the cabbie the small fare and stormed up the stairs to Sherlock. You were upset that he left you two at the crime scene without a single word. Neither you nor John had known your way around the city. You and Sherlock both knew you were going to have to work together on this case and he left anyway. He was going to have to change his ways of solidarity if this partnership was going to work.
When you walked through the door you found Sherlock lying on the couch with nicotine patches all over his forearm.
"Forget something?“ You asked, ushering John through the door. He didn’t look up to either of you.
"What are you doing?” You asked strictly.
"Nicotine patch. Helps me think.“ He said, his eyes still pointed towards the ceiling. “Impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days. Bad news for brain work.” He said.
“Well it’s good news for breathing.” You said, still annoyed.
“Ugh! Breathing! Breathing’s boring.” Sherlock groaned.
“Is that three patches?” You asked, grabbing his arm.
“It’s a three-patch problem.” He said, yanking it back.
“Well, you asked me to come. I’m assuming it’s important.” John said.
“Wait. He texted you and you didn’t tell me?” You said to John. Dear God, these guys will be the death of me. You thought.
“Oh. Yeah, of course. Can I borrow your phone?” Sherlock asked John. He was still laying on the couch with his hands resting in prayer position beneath his chin.
“My phone?” John asked confused.
“Don’t wanna use mine,” Sherlock began to explain, “Always a chance the number will be recognized. It’s on the website.”
“Mrs. Hudson’s got a phone.”
“Yeah, she’s downstairs. I tried shouting but she didn’t hear.” Sherlock explained.
“I was the other side of London. Because you left us there.” John said, defending himself.
“There was no hurry.” Sherlock said, you groaned.
“Can we get back to what’s actually important?” You asked, fed up with this banter.
“Ah yes, her case. First big mistake. The murder took her case.”
“So?” John asked.
Sherlock mumbled to himself. Something about risking it. “On my desk there’s a number. I want you to send a text.” Sherlock said. You grabbed John’s phone out of his hand and walked over to his desk.
"These words exactly,“ Sherlock dictated to you, "What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. 22 Northumberland Street. Please come.” You typed exactly what he said.
Sherlock walked over to the kitchen and picked up something and sat it down on a chair in front of you. After you sent the text you looked down to see a pink suitcase.
"Oh my God. That’s it. Jennifer Wilson’s case.“ You said surprised.
"Yes. Obviously.” Sherlock said. You stared at it for about a minute, eyes wide, not saying a word. Thoughts racing through your head.
"Oh, perhaps I should mention, I didn’t kill her.“ Sherlock said, annoyed.
"I never said you did.” You said, but the thought had crossed your mind after the doubt Donovan put in it.
“Do people usually assume you’re the murderer?” You asked, eyebrow raised, a smirk on your face.
“Now and then, yes.” He said, returning the smirk and hoping up on his chair. “I assume you realize how I found it?” Sherlock asked.
“Yeah, I think I got that. Is there anything missing?” You asked.
“Her phone.” He explained.
“Oh, so that explains the text. The killer must have it. He’s probably going to freak out when he sees the text. You want him to show up so we can catch him.” You said, understanding.
John’s phone suddenly rings. He didn’t answer as Sherlock explained everything to him.
"Problem?“ Sherlock asked you as you were getting ready to leave.
"Yeah, Donovan-” You began before Sherlock cut you off.
"What about her?“ Sherlock asked.
"She said… you get off on this. You enjoy it.” You said awkwardly.
"And here you are,“ Sherlock said, "I can’t be the only one.”
“Need I remind you, this is actually my job. I get paid to do this.” You said. Sherlock turned to walk out the door, you followed him.
"I’ll just stay here then.“ John said, sitting down in front of the TV or telly as they say here.
"We won’t be gone long. Sit tight.” You said. You and Sherlock began walking down to Northumberland Street.
“You think he’s stupid enough to go there?” You asked Sherlock.
“No, I think he’s brilliant enough. I love the brilliant ones. They’re all so desperate to get caught.” He said.
"Appreciation.“ You said.
"Exactly. Applause. At long last the spotlight. That’s the frailty of genius, Y/N, it needs an audience.”
"I’ll keep that in mind.“ You said, off handedly.
"This is his hunting ground. Right here in the heart of the city. Now that we know his victims were abducted, that changes everything.” Sherlock spoke.
“All his victims disappeared from busy streets, crowded places, but nobody saw them go.” You followed along.
"Think! Who do we trust, even though we don’t know them? Who passes unnoticed wherever they go? Who hunts in the middle of a crowd?“
"I don’t know. Who?” You asked.
"Haven’t the faintest. Hungry?“ Sherlock asked you. You followed Sherlock into a pub. The host pointed Sherlock towards towards a tale by the window.
"Thank you, Billy.” He said, you two sat down.
"22 Northumberland Street. Keep your eyes on it.“ Sherlock instructed you. You took off your coat. You were still wearing your blouse and pencil skirt from earlier and Sherlock was still in his suit.
"He’s not just going to ring the door bell. He’d have to be crazy.” You said.
“He has killed four people.” Sherlock said.
“Yeah, I guess that’s considered crazy.” You agreed.
“Sherlock!” The owner of the restaurant came up and shook his hand. “Anything on the menu, whatever you want, free. On the house, for you and your date.” He said, handing you a menu.
“Oh, this isn’t… uh… that.” You stumbled over your words, blushing slightly.
"Do you want to eat?“ Sherlock asked you.
"This man got me off a murder charge.” The owner explained to you.
"This is Angelo,“ Sherlock introduced the two of you. "Three years ago I proved to Lestrade at the time of a particularly vicious triple murder that Angelo was in a completely different part of town, house-breaking.” You shook his hand.
“He cleared my name.” Angelo said.
“I cleared it a bit. Anything happening opposite?” Sherlock asked him.
“Nothing. But for this man, I’d have gone to prison.” Angelo explained.
“You did go to prison.” Sherlock straightened out, keeping his eyes on Northumberland Street.
“I’ll get a candle for the table. It’s more romantic.”
“I’m not his date.” You called back, still annoyed at Sherlock for what had happened earlier.
"You may as well eat. We might have a long wait.“ Sherlock said. You nodded and scanned the mend. Angelo soon brought back a candle and placed it in between you and Sherlock.
"Thanks.” You said sarcastically. Sherlock was still looking out the window facing Northumberland Street.
"People don’t have arch-enemies.“ You said, Sherlock snapped out of his trance and looked at you confused.
"I’m sorry?” He asked.
“In real life. Mycroft said he was your arch-enemy. There are no arch-enemies in real life, it just doesn’t happen.” You repeated.
“Doesn’t it? Sounds a bit dull,” Sherlock said.
“What do real people have, then, in their real lives?” Sherlock asked out, as if you were an expert on real life.
“Um, friends. You know, people they know. People they like, people they don’t like. Girlfriends, boyfriends.” You said awkwardly.
“Yes, well, as I was saying… dull.” Sherlock said, not really paying attention.
“You don’t have a girlfriend, then?” You asked, not really implying anything, merely just curious.
“Girlfriend? No… not really my area.” He said, still looking out the window. As he spoke the door chimed and a well dresses, handsome, man walked through the door. He saw you look at him and he winked at you. You smiled back and then looked back to Sherlock, well, at least someone was paying attention to you tonight. You didn’t mind male attention, you were used to it. You kind of thought it was flattering too. You pulled your attention back on Sherlock, who had noticed the man walk in and flirt with you.
“Do you have a boyfriend? Which is fine, by the way.” You said, trying to think about anything other than the man who kept staring and you from the back of the room.
"I know its fine.“ He replied.
"So you’ve got a boyfriend then…” You stated.
"No.“ Replied quickly. You were almost relieved. Honestly, you thought Sherlock was attractive, but you knew he wasn’t the type to have that sort of relationship.
"Okay, right. That’s fine, you’re unattached. Just like me…” You trailed off, focusing back to the man who hadn’t taken his eyes off you, even as he spoke on the phone. You tried to read him, but he was too far away. He wore a grey suit, had short dark hair, and brown eyes. You didn’t know to be flattered or frightened by the attention you were getting from this man. He looked powerful, maybe he worked in the government, but you could tell he was smart. In some ways he reminded you of Sherlock.
"Y/N um…“ Sherlock began, but you had barely heard him. You were still focused on the man in the back of the room. "I think you should know that I consider myself married to my work, and while I’m flattered, I’m really not looking for any…” You finally turned your attention back to him.
"What?“ You asked, not really paying attention.
"What in God’s name is so important that you keep looking at?” Sherlock asked, turning around to see the man who was staring at you.
"Of course, figures.“ Sherlock said.
"No… I… Sherlock. Whatever you’re insinuating it’s not… Does he look familiar to you?” You stumbled over your words.
“No, he doesn’t.” Sherlock replied.
“I swear I’ve seen him before.” You stated.
"Look across the street. Taxi. It’s stopped,“ Sherlock said, you were glad to be off that topic. "Nobody getting in, nobody getting out. Why a taxi?” You looked across he street too.
"Oh that’s clever. Is it clever? Why is it clever?“ Sherlock talked to himself.
"You wanted someone who hides in plain sight. Stopping in a cab would be better than a private car.” You said.
"Don’t stare.“ Sherlock instructed you.
"You’re staring.” You retorted.
"We can’t both stare.“ Sherlock hoped out of his seat and out the door. You followed him. We got our coats on as we waited for the taxi to move. It pulled away and Sherlock began to run, not noticing that there was a car about to hit him.
"Sherlock!” You yelled as he slid across the hood of the car and continued running. You followed him.
"Sherlock stopped as the cab turned a corner and entered his mind palace. He was looking for an alternate route where we could catch the taxi on foot. He stopped mumbling and took off, you followed, close behind. You wished you had worn other shoes. Your feet were going to die from running in these heels. You followed Sherlock up the stairs of some building and onto the roof.
“Come on, Y/N.” Sherlock called.
“You try doing this in heels.” You huffed, a few feet behind him. Sherlock lept over the stair rail. You jumped after him, not sure how your shoes survived the sudden impact. Sherlock jumped from the building you were on onto the one next to it. You stopped and looked down, being afraid of heights, you kind of freaked out.
&n “Come on Y/N. We’re losing him!” Sherlock yelled, hearing his voice filled you with a little false courage and you took the leap. Now you were right behind him and running down stairs back onto the ground. You saw the cab pass you as you were running behind Sherlock, your lungs were on fire and your adrenaline was pumping faster than it ever was.
"Oh! This way!“ Sherlock said, turning a corner. Sherlock’s pace quickened and you saw him jump in front of a cab. THE cab. the driver slammed on its brakes and Sherlock opened the back door.
"Police! Open her up!” He yelled, panting. He got one look at the guy and started shaking his head. “No… Teeth, tan. What, Californian?” He said. He checked his luggage tag on the suitcase in front of him. “LA, Santa Monica. Just arrived.”
“Not our guy.” You panted.
“Probably your first trip to London, right?” Sherlock said, still slightly out of breath. “Going by your final destination and the route the cabbie was taking you.”
“Sorry, are you guys the police?” The guy asked, you smiled. It was nice to hear an American accent again.
"Yeah. Everything all right?“ Sherlock asked, pulling out a badge.
"Yeah.” The guy replied was a smile.
"Welcome to London.“ Sherlock smiled and slammed the door shut, and walked off. You followed him.
"Basically just a cab that happened to slow down.” You said disappointed.
“Basically.” Sherlock agreed.
"Wrong country, good alibi.“ You said.
"As they go.” Sherlock said.
"Hey, where did you get this?“ You said ripping the badge out of Sherlock’s hand. "Detective Inspector Lestrade?” You read.
"Yeah, I pickpocket him when he’s annoying. You can keep that one, I’ve got plenty back at the flat.“ Sherlock said.
"You seem to keep forgetting that I have my own.” You said, pulling your badge out of your pocket. You put it back and started to laugh.
"What?“ Sherlock asked, confused.
"Nothing… just ‘Welcome to London’.” Sherlock laughed too.
"Got your breath back?“ Sherlock asked.
"Ready when you are.” You said, taking off down the road beside Sherlock and following him all the way back to Baker Street.
Chapter 6 hope you guys enjoy! Ask/request if you have any comments or suggestions.