Sherlock - The Game Is On!

A Study In Pink- Four

Chapter Four

I sat beside John, currently resigning in this house box, looking at the search bar. "Well, there's no use staring at it." He sighed deeply before typing in the search engine. Sherlock Holmes. "The Science Of Deduction... Sounds cool." I responded analysing the information.

Baker Street - Next day

Just as John was to ring the doorbell a car door opened. "Hi." John responded. "Mr Holmes." I greeted. "Sherlock, please." Shaking hands with me, John asked: "Prime spot. Must be expensive." Pressing the doorbell Sherlock answered. "Mrs Hudson, the landlady. She's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favour, few years ago, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out." John was looking skeptical. "You stopped her husband being executed?" He questioned unsurely.

I laughed, half-heartedly. "Oh, no. He ensured it."  Both men now looked at me in surprise. "How-" John's question was cut of when my dear old Aunt Martha opened the door. "Sherlock!" Joyously she throws her arms around him, greeting him as if he were her son.

She turns to John and I, double glancing to me. "Michelle? Is that you dear?" She asked, clasping her hands over her mouth in shock. "Hello Aunt Martha." I open my arms and welcome her whole-heartedly. "Oh muffin, I thought you were missing in action? No, you were missing in action, I received the letter. How?" This caught both men by surprise. "You were missing in action?" John parroted. "Perhaps talk about this another time, John?" He nodded as my aunt welcomed us in.

The room was fairly large and pleasant... As well as a dreadful mess. Which John wont like. Stacks of newspapers, several computers, a tumble of box files along the shelves, a laughing stock full of weapons, a skull on the mantlepiece. An adjourning kitchen, the table crammed with test tubes and jars.

"Well! This could be very nice. Very nice indeed." John stated. "Yes, I think so. My thoughts exactly." I stated too. There was a moment when both John and Sherlock spoke at the same time. "Obviously I can straighten things up a bit." Sherlock made an half attempt to clean the room. "That's a skull." John pointed. "Friend of mine. Well I say friend..."

Aunt Martha came walking in moments later. "What do you think, Dr Watson there's another bedroom along side of Michelle's upstairs. If you'll be needing separate bedrooms." John seemed a little affronted whilst I bit back my laugh. "Aunt Martha, John isn't gay." She looks at me before saying: "Oh don't you worry, all sorts round here. Mrs Turner next door's got married ones... Oh Sherlock, the mess you've made." Whilst she busied herself in the kitchen, John turned to look at Sherlock. "Looked you up on the internet last night."

Whilst they were talking I went up to the window. "What about these suicides, then, Sherlock? Thought that would be right up your street." I didn't notice but Sherlock too, accumulated to stand next to me near the window. "Four. There's been a fourth and there's something different this time." Feet thumped up the stairs, Sherlock didn't give chance for whoever to come through the door before asking: "Where?"

"Brixton. Lauriston Gardens."

"What's different about this one?" You asked, turning around, again all eyes were on you. "You know how they never leave notes?" The Detective moved on to ask, eyes moving between Sherlock and I. "Yeah."

"This one did. Will you come?" Sherlock just looks at him. Interested of course, but as if he's biding his time. "Who's on forensics?"

"Anderson."

"Anderson wont work with me."

"He wont be your assistant."

"But I need a assistant." Taking a deep breath the Detective asks again: "Will you come?"

"Not in a police car. I'll be right behind you." A cursory nod at Aunt Martha, John and myself, the inspector leaves.

Sherlock lets out a whoop of excitement. "Brilliant." He leaps right over the black sofa-chair, dashes to the desk and starts stuffing things into his pockets. "And I thought it was going to be a boring evening. Serial suicides, and now a note oh, its Christmas!" He then dashes to the door whilst I mumbled: "Murder." Weighing up probability it sounded like murder to me, all these linked were anyways. "Mrs Hudson, I'll be late might need some food."

"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper."

"Something cold is fine. John make yourself at home, Michelle have a cuppa! Don't wait up!" With that he bounded out the door. John was bemused but grabs a newspaper and starts reading. "Oh, look at him, dashing about? My husband was just the same." I tuned my aunt out whilst I was scanning the headline of Johns paper. 'Third suicide' Panning down to the words. 'Inspector Lestrade, in charge of the investigation.' So thats the Detective. Detective Inspector Lestrade...

"Damn my leg!" John shouts angrily. "John!" I shouted back. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, its just sometimes... Bloody thing." Aunt Martha sympathises with John completely. "I understand, dear. I've got a hip." Whilst she went in the kitchen me and John had a short lived conversation. "So you were MIA?"

"That would be correct."

"Why didn't you say anything?" John asked, worriedly. "Never saw it as important really." Flicking my hand in the air dismissively. "Never saw it as important? My God, Michelle? Your so difficult sometimes. It's as if you're not human."

"'To Er is to human' as they say. Humans are predictable, boring. They create too much of a surplus population. Besides, the only person to care for me already grieved so if I were to of died, it be a short lived reminiscence."

"Michelle, you forget you're human and also, what about me?" He stated, not amused at all. "You'd live. Besides, I didn't know I was human? Thank you for bringing that to my attention. Don't know where I would be without my dearest Watson describing the platonic things in life." I said smiling innocently. He looked at me before smiling himself.

A few moments later, Sherlock stands in the doorway. "You were both trained doctors." He states.

"Yes"
"Agree to disagree."

John and I spoke. "Any good?" He asks again. "Very good." John, whether he noticed it himself was standing up at this point. Almost as if he's standing for attention. "Seen a lot of injuries then. Violent deaths?" Sherlock now pointed his questions in my direction. "Obviously." I stated. Sherlock then turns to John again. "Bit of trouble too, I bet."

"Of course, yes. Enough for a lifetime. Far too much." John answered. "Clearly not enough." I answered for John too, sarcastically. There was a short pause before Sherlock then asked: "Want to see more?" John jumped at the opportunity, Blurting out a: "Oh, God, Yes!" Whilst John was grabbing his cane and coat Sherlock then turned to me. "Coming, Michelle?" I stood up smoothing my dress pants before answering. "May as well. You seem interesting enough to tinker about with."

Sherlock looked at me, for a moment, bemused. The boys ran down the stairs whilst I glided. Aunt Martha poked her head out of her flat. "Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out."

"All three of you?" She inquired.

"Impossible suicides four of them. No point in sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock stated. "Look at you, all happy. Its not decent." She replied but looked at me briefly, smiling knowingly that even myself deep down had missed this. "Who cares about decent. The game, Mrs Hudson, is on." He struts out the door.