Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 14

'Sup bros! I hope that you like this chapter. This one and the next one took me quite a while because I kept rewriting them because I didn't think they were good enough so I hope the result is a good one.

Let's get on with the drama in Sarlock (Sherlock and Sarah's ship name, courtesy of Lisaoliver2 :) ) land. Things get a bit sassy in this chapter...

Monday, May 30th, 2011. It had been a few weeks since our ordeal with Jim and I was still thanking whoever it was that got us out of our situation every night before I went to sleep. I hadn't seen Sherlock and John in a while- but then again I was back at work so I didn't have as much time to go gallivanting with those two as I'd like to have- so I decided to pop round for a drink or something since today was my day off. I got up and carried out my usual morning routine: go to the toilet, have breakfast, get a shower, brush my teeth, wash my face, dry my hair, get dressed- before I left my flat. Mrs Hudson caught me just outside 221B and said hello. She told me that Sherlock had been oddly quiet recently. Apparently he looked out of the window at my flat often. I found this slightly creepy but it also told me that something was on his mind other that the two-hundred and forty-three different types of tobacco ash that he listed on his website.

Once inside I took the stairs two at a time and sprang into their flat. All seemed quiet. Sherlock was sat at the living room table drinking what I presumed was coffee from a mug whilst leafing through a newspaper. John sat on the opposite side of the table tapping away on his laptop, probably updating his blog.

"Hi boys!" I said cheerily. To this, John looked up from his screen and sent me a brief smile before going back to work. Sherlock didn't move, except to turn a page. Mrs Hudson was right. Something was wrong. He'd never been like this with me before. Usually he was happy to see me. I let myself in and sat down on John's chair when Sherlock spoke.

"What are you typing?" he asked without lifting his head

"Blog." John replied

"About?"

"Us."

"You mean me." Sherlock quick fired

"Why?"

"Well, you're typing a lot."

"Maybe he's writing about me." I butted in. If Sherlock wanted to play blunt, then I was game. He turned his head to look at me, squinting his eyes. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and we were removed from the awkward silence.

"Right," Sherlock said, leaping up and walking towards the door, "So, what have we got?". The next hour-ish was consumed by a number of people entering and leaving the flat. All were met with Sherlock saying "Boring." and John asking them politely to leave, apologising for not being able to help. On approximately the twelfth client my phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a text from Mycroft, Sherlock's brother:

Speedy's. Now.

Mycroft

Why was Sherlock's brother texting me? And, more to the point, how did he get my number? We've never even met. Still, I didn't fancy disobeying him. Getting in trouble with the Government wasn't on my bucket list so I got up, gave Sherlock a brief look but he didn't notice, patted John on the shoulder; gave him a brief explanation of where I was going, smiled and left.

Inside Speedy's Mrs Hudson greeted me at the door

"Hello dear!"

"Hi Mrs H, um, Mycroft Holmes said he needed to see me."

"Oh, yes! He's back there." she pointed to the back of the café where a balding man with a roman- shaped nose sat eating a slice of cheesecake with a fork. I laughed internally at the memory of discovering his email password. When I reached the table he looked up from the last crumb of his food and strained a smile, putting down his fork and picking up a napkin to wipe away the excess cream from around his mouth.