The Fitted Blouse

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"That can't be it."

My eyes flutter open, trying to adjust to the dimly lit room. I look over to see that Sherlock is gone, but the voice still continues to mutter. When I sit up I see that Sherlock is sitting at the desk in the corner, scribbling on a paper.

"Shouldn't you be asleep?"

He flinches at my voice, "Did I wake you?"

I walk over to him, still rubbing my burning eyes. The sky is still dark, so it must be late. I examine his face, there's dark circles under his eyes, and his hair is messy.

"What time is it?" I ask.

He looks at his pocket watch and sighs, "Three."

He rests his head in his hand, his eyes still scanning the various papers in front of him. There isn't an extra chair in the room, so I decide to sit in his lap instead.

"Is this the case that's been bothering you?"

His eyes are wide, "What are you doing?"

"You didn't seem to mind me sitting in your lap the other day," I say smugly.

He shakes his head, but there's a smile on his face. I flip through the papers, they're police reports from several sexual assault cases. My lips fall into a frown as I read over them. Every victim gave the same description of the suspect, a tall man with blond hair and a scar on his left cheek.

Sherlock's arms wrap around my waist as he leans his head against my back. I rest my hand on his while I read through the reports. It's no wonder he's been so bothered, this has been going on for over a week, and they still haven't found the guy.

"These girls," I pause before continuing, "they're all the same age as me."

His arms tighten around my waist, "And they all have long, (H/c) hair as well."

"So his victims aren't random."

"Which is why you shouldn't be on your own."

I stand up, "I need to get to Enola, she stays in the office by herself."

My voice comes out rushed and panicked. I walk to the living room, looking for my shoes and coat. Sherlock follows me and grabs my wrist.

"I've already talked to her. She's staying with Tewkesbury, I told her I'd watch over you."

I fall onto the couch with a sigh, "So she'll be safe?"

"Yes, and she shares no similarities with the victims. But you do."

He sits next to me, "He targets women who live alone, and he breaks into their homes at night."

My mother is still away with her feminist group. She had sent a heartfelt letter the other day, letting me know that she'll be gone for a while longer.

"I'd like for you to stay here, until he's caught. I can walk you to the office every morning and walk you back here every night."

I look back at him, "I don't have a choice do I?"

"No."

I let out a dramatic sigh and rest my head against his shoulder. "I can't believe you're letting Enola stay with Tewkesbury."

"She was very adamant about not staying with us."

I smirk to myself, "Can you blame her? I'd much rather stay with my boyfriend."

"It seems that you've gotten your wish," he says.

I kiss his jaw, and pull away with a smile. "We should really get some sleep now."

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