Sherlock - The Game Is On!

The Hounds Of Baskerville- Seven

Chapter Seven

I wandered round aimlessly, minding my own business. I truly did understand Sherlock's point of view but I suddenly felt cautious beyond reason around him. This goes against everything he knows, everything he's learnt.

Sighing to myself I light my cigarette. The damn light isn't working. A hand comes into my view with a dancing light. Moving forward the flame attacks my cigarette. I look up briefly to see Sherlock. "Thanks." I mumble. We stayed silent for a few moments, leaning in a wall. "Spoken to John yet?" He doesn't answer. I sigh inwardly. "I'm sorry." He muttered. I flick my hand in the air dismissively. "Don't worry about it. I get that what's happened tonight goes beyond your understanding, I understand this is effecting you drastically but please Sherlock, don't treat John the way you've done tonight. He's your best friend. He's just trying to help you. We both were."

"What about the way I treated you?" He asked. "I take it with a pinch of salt, I take it in my stride... I'm just a spare piece." Starting to walk away, Sherlock starts talking: "See we're back to the beginning again. Your not a spare piece." By now he's already caught up with me and is standing in front of me, hands placed on my shoulders. "You... I..." Oh God. Is he gonna say it? He shakes his head. "You matter." I smile at him.

Walking back to the Inn, we make our way to the room. Sherlock takes his coat of and sits in a chair, hands to his temple eyes closed. Mind Palace I thought. I get changed and climb into bed, snuggling into my pillow. Just as I was about to drift, Sherlock makes a disagreeable noise. No sooner later, the bed dips and he replaced the pillow with himself. "I'm still awake you know?" I respond eyes still closed. "I know." He places his arms around me and I hitch my leg over his own. "Your just a child at heart Sherlock. A child with the biggest heart I know..." With that I sleepily kiss his chest.

Third POV

Sherlock lay in bed with Michelle snuggled into his side. " A child with the biggest heart I know." Where exactly has he heard that before? It was a mystery. However, the way Michelle said it, the way it sounded it was vaguely familiar. Sherlock knew what Michelle meant to himself, she was more than a puzzle, more than a distraction and she meant more to him than being a spare bloody piece. Perhaps it was the mutual friendship between them. Then again it was more. After all, Sherlock found it hard trying to describe his emotions for her and her alone. He didn't just want Michelle as a friend he wanted more. Dismissing his thoughts away he rubbed Michelle's arm one last time before kissing her temple and cuddling up to her. "You mean more... So much more."

The Moors - Daytime

I made my way up to the stony outcrop again, staring towards Baskerville. I flicker between the complex and Dewer's Hollow, then I turn looking back towards Grimpen Village. One word kept floating in mid air. HOUND. Why does Henry refer to it as a Hound? Why not a wolf or dog? HOUND. LIBERTY IN. The mind is a Marvellous thing. Keeps you protected from indecent memories but also links main streams to it.

Walking down the footpath I notice John in the church graveyard, sitting on the steps of a war memorial and looking through the notes in his notebook. Sherlock walks through the kissing gate and makes his way along the path. This could end up getting worse or could become one of the highlights to their friendship. I watch the scene between the boys. John's expression becomes uncomfortable as he tucks his notebook into his pocket. I grimace briefly, Sherlock stops in front of him, looking awkward.

Sherlock starts conversation, from the distance I was at I couldn't here a word. Walking further to them, I stop as John slowly starts walking away. "Funny doesn't suit you. I'd stick to ice."

"John..."

"It's fine." John instantly dismisses.  "No, wait. What happened last night... Something happened to me; Something I've not really experienced before..." Sherlock ran up to him placing his hand firmly on John's shoulder. "Yes, you said: fear. Sherlock Holmes got scared. You said."

"No, no, no, it was more than that, John. It was doubt. I felt doubt. I've always been able to trust my senses, the evidence of my own eyes, until last night."

"You can't actually believe that you saw some kind of monster."

"No, I can't believe that. I did see it, so the question is: how? How?" They stare at each other for a long moment. Their so gay. "Yes. Yeah, right, good. So you've got something to go on, then? Good luck with that." John turns to walk away and Sherlock starts calling out to him. "Listen, what I said before, John. I meant it. I don't have friends." He bites his lip briefly. "I've just got one."

"Right. Well, what's Michelle?" John asked him. I stare intensely at Sherlock. He bites his lip again and flutters his eyes under his lids. He states something but I couldn't decipher it. Whatever it was though John walks back and pats his back.

Walking of again, Sherlocks mind seems to click in place. "You've never been the most luminous of people, but as a conductor of light you are unbeatable." He shouts, joyously. "Cheers... What?"

"Some people who aren't geniuses have an amazing ability to stimulate it in others."

"Hang on you were saying 'Sorry' a minute ago. Don't spoil it. Go on: what have I done that's so bloody stimulating?"

"Michelle?" I turn to the voice in question. "Oh hi, Lestrade."

"Fancy a drink?" I nod my head and we make way towards the Inn. "So Mycroft sent you down here?" I deadpanned. "Listen, I..."

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sherlocks voice rings out. "Well, nice to see you too. I'm on holiday, would you believe?"

"No, I wouldn't."
"Nope."

Sherlock and I deadpan, once again at the same time. "Hello, John."

"Greg!"

"I heard you were in the area. What are you up to? You after this Hound of Hell like on the telly?"

"I'm still waiting for an explanation, Inspector. Why did Mycroft send you here?" I ask. "No, look..."

"Of course it is! One mention of Baskerville and he sends down my handler to... to spy on me incognito. Is that why you're calling yourself Greg?"

"That's his name." John states, tiredly. "Is it?"

"Yes, if you'd ever bothered to find out. Look, I'm not your handler. Michelle is by the looks of things, and I don't just do what your brother tells me." He sulks, picking up his pint. "Actually, you could be just the man we want." I state, changing route of conversation. "Why?" I gesture to John. "Well, I've not been idle, Sherlock. I think I might have found something." He rummages around his pockets finding the receipt he got from behind the bar. "Here. Didn't know if it was relevant; starting to look like it might be. That is an awful lot of meat for a vegetarian restaurant."

"Excellent." I turn to Greg. "Nice scary Inspector from Scotland Yard who can put in a few calls might come in very handy." The boys exchange looks with each other. I walk to the front and slap my hand on the bell. "Shop please!"