XXII • 22

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You allowed John to wipe the blood from your forehead and bandage it, then you headed for the door.
Sherlock was still there, and he blocked your path.
"(F/N), no." He said, authoritatively.
You tried to push past him, but he took your arm.
"I need to go see her!" You yelled.
"No. I already told you you need to rest."
You pounded his chest, trying without success to get him to move.
He stood like a wall, ignoring your futile assault to his chest and shoulders.
"(F/N)." He looked down at you. You were crying now, your face buried in his coat.
You made an unintelligible noise.
"You're over tired. You've got a concussion. You need to rest. I will go check on Mackenzie."
He gently pushed you off of him and brought you back to your room.
You collapsed onto your bed and he pulled the covers over you then leaned in and kissed your forehead gently.
"Gute Nacht. (Goodnight)" He whispered.
"Dir auch. (You too)" You replied, sleepily.

John looked at Sherlock, half jealous, half awed.
"How..?"
"Logic." Sherlock responded, retying his scarf. "Please stay here with her. She has a concussion. I told her I'd check on Mackenzie."

******

Sherlock's POV:

"Mackenzie Whitley. She was admitted several hours ago."
I leaned forward on the receptionist's desk.
"Visiting hours are long over. I can't let you in."
I turned away, then looked back.
"Did you have a nice trip?"
"Excuse me?"
"Your trip to Jakarta. Was it nice?"
"Do I- do I know you?" She sounded uncertain.
"No I don't believe we've met. Sherlock Holmes." I extended my hand.
"How did you..?"
"I simply observed." I smiled. "I would explain, but I really do need to see Mackenzie." Turning once again, I headed for the door.
"Wait!" She called.
I turned back around with a knowing smile.
"If I.. if I let you in, will you tell me how you knew I was in Jakarta?"
"Of course. I can even tell you what you were doing in Jakarta, just in case it's a bit... foggy." I smirked.

The receptionist, identified by her name tag as Rachel, scrolled through her computer until she found Mackenzie's admittance information.
"Here we go, room 301." She moved from behind her desk and motioned for me to follow her. I walked beside her at a steady clip.
"About Jakarta..?" She asked.
"Ah yes. One look showed that you are decidedly tanned. Natural, not from a can or a tanning bed. That told me vacation in the tropics. It's winter in London, as in the rest of the world north of the equator. So southern hemisphere. Biggest tourist attractions in the tropics of the southern hemisphere? Sydney, Sao Paulo, Rio de Janeiro, Lima, Jakarta, etcetera. How did I know it was Jakarta? Well, good choice in souvenirs, Rachel. A Monas pendant on your necklace."
I gestured toward the delicate chain around her neck.
"Abbreviation for The National Monument, a 132 metre obelisk monument in Merdeka Square, Central Jakarta. It was evidently purchased not long ago judging by the remnant of adhesive from the sale tag, which you removed recently. Recently? Yes, you still have traces of the same adhesive on your fingers." I stopped walking for a moment and lifted one of her hands to point to the sticky remains of the adhesive on her thumb and forefinger.
"So unless you don't make a habit of washing your hands," I made a face, "you've removed it only recently, which is how I know that you've just gotten back, in addition to the tan, of course."
I spouted this out almost without taking a breath, finishing just as we neared room 301.
Rachel was stunned.
"But how..?" She couldn't quite wrap her head around it, despite having had it broken down.
"Simply observation. Now I'll only be a moment." I opened the door quietly and slipped inside.

Mackenzie had come to an hour after being admitted. She'd insisted on being let out, but the doctors wanted her overnight due to concussion. She had been sleeping fitfully since, but woke to the sound of the door opening. The last person she expected to see was Sherlock Holmes.

"Sherlock!" She sounded surprised.
"Hello again Mackenzie." My tone was quiet but serious.
"Is everything okay? How's (F/N)? Heck, what even happened?"
"All valid questions. (F/N) is fine. Concussion and exhaustion. Although I can't say for sure whether she won't be emotionally scarred. In saying, I lead to what happened. Short version, she was kidnapped and you were rendered unconscious so as not to get in the way."
She interrupted me here. "Kidnapped? By who?"
"Who actually broke into the flat and took her I can't say for certain, but they were henchmen of Jim Moriarty."
"Jim?"
"Yes. I'm sure she's told you about him."
"So it was him?" She sounded almost sad.
"Yes."
"You were right." She said, her head down.
"Yes." I answered confidently but careful to keep any hit of pride or arrogance far removed from my voice.
"But she's back now?"
"Asleep in her flat. John's with her."
"Good." She and I stared at each other for an awkward moment, then she asked, "No offense, but if she's okay, why are you here?"
"She wanted to come check on you herself, but she needed rest. I told her I'd come."
"Oh. Okay." She looked away.
There were a few more moments of awkward silence, then I turned to leave.
"Thank you." Mackenzie called, just before I left the room.
I nodded, then closed the door.

Rachel still stood outside the room, and she guided me back to the entrance. I didn't need the help, but I didn't mention it.
"Uh, Sherlock." She spoke just as I was turning to leave. "Would you- would you like to get a drink with me sometime?" She asked nervously.
I squinted down at her for a long moment then replied; "Not really my area."
And then I left.

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