Glass - A Sherlock Fan Fiction

Chapter Twelve

The yellow door was now grey. Bleak and streaky. Sherlock looked at it with an air of disappointment.

"Are you not at all nervous?" John asked.

"Why would I be nervous?"

"Because you haven't seen the woman in two years."

"I hadn't seen you in two years and I wasn't nervous." Sherlock answered, his eyes still focused on the door.

"Yes. But the difference is, you and I weren't fuc–"

The door opened slightly, a woman with greying hair peered her head around. "Yes?"

Sherlock's stern, lifeless expression suddenly became charming and attractive. "Hi," he began with a smile, "We're looking for Margaux."

"I don't know a Margaux, sorry."

"Well this is her flat, is it not?"

"Well I've lived here for a year now so I don't think so."

Sherlock huffed.

They stepped out of the building onto the street, the sun was setting and the breeze was cold. Sherlock flicked up the collar of his coat and began to walk. John zipped his jacket up, shoved his hands in the pockets and followed.

"You were nervous," he jabbed.

"I wasn't nervous, will you shut up."

They knocked on three more doors around London, none of which held Margaux on the other side. Sherlock had come to realise that his sources had failed him.

"This would be a lot easier if she had family," he said.

"Ah yes, how dare she be emancipated from her negligent parents, to which she was the only child. How selfish of her to be all alone in this world," John replied sarcastically.

"You know what I mean."

"What about Molly Hooper?"

"Are they still friends?"

"I don't know. I would assume so," John guessed.

III

"We catch up as much as we can. It's hard now with her not coming to the hospital to work anymore. But yes, we still talk," said Molly as she stood over a corpse with a scalpel in the morgue.

"Do you have her current address?" Sherlock asked, un-phased.

Molly hesitated. "I don't know if I feel comfortable just giving someone's address out."

"Come on, Molly, it's me," Sherlock said with a charismatic smile.

"Smooth," said John.

"I don't know–"

"Do you have it written down somewhere?"

"Sherlock, I really don't know–" 

"You send Christmas cards every year, and you post them as opposed to hand-deliver which means you keep all of your contacts and addresses in one place. You're slightly messy and very sentimental, so the list is most likely in an old diary that you keep in your office- no, your car. No. Handbag."

"Sherlock," said Molly.

"It's an old diary, well out of date, but it's compact so you continue to use it," Sherlock continued as he walked towards Molly's bag. "She moved at least a year ago, and we've had a Christmas since then which means you have her new address, most likely written next to her old one, as I said: sentimental, can't bring yourself to cross the old one out." He reached into her bag.