Human Error - Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter nineteen - Spain

I went to the museum with Sherlock and John, and ended up talking to a really sweet guy called Andy to get some more information about Soo Lin. After that, we exited the building and bumped into our friendly artist Raz once again. However, I didn't follow Sherlock and John to wherever Raz was going to take them. I looked up at the gloomy sky and realised it was getting quite dark, and I have work in the morning plus I had planned to do a bit of furniture shopping.

So instead I went back to the flat. As soon as I got in a plopped down on the couch and switched on the TV. There wasn't anything that interesting on, so I settled to watch some random comedy about a zombie apocalypse. Zombieland, I think it was called.

It seemed like a good film, however it wasn't enough to keep me awake. I could feel my conciousness ebbing away, and then soon all my thoughts ended and I drifted off into oblivion.

~

There was a whispering in the warm air. Today had been so beautiful, and the sky was like a dome of plasma-blue. It was currently eight at night and some clouds had finally appeared in the sky, drifting under the gleaming disc of the moon.

We were in Spain. 

The hotel was amazing. Food was cooked to perfection, drinks were sweet and delicious. The beds were soft and comfy and we had a balcony on the top floor that allowed us to watch over the serene sea.

I stood at the balcony, looking in the distance as the waves washed up onto the shore peacefully. Everyone else was downstairs by the pool, watching tonight's entertainment. I excused myself and headed upstairs, craving the silence. But the muffled sound of music playing could be heard from even up here.

"What's wrong?" A voice asked, startling me and making me jump. I turn around to see an fifteen year old Sherlock chuckling at my reaction. I smiled and shook my head. 

"Nothing." I answered.

"Liar."

I paused, turning my gaze back towards the ocean. "I think I'm a little home-sick." I say. "I've never been this far away from home."

"But... you like it here, right?" He asked slowly, "I know my family can be a little much but..."

"I know your family, they're lovely people. They're not the problem." I assured him, tuning my head to look at him again. I gave him a sweet smile. "But yeah, I like it. It's amazing. I'm so happy I could be here."

I felt my stomach burst with butterflies as I looked at him. His hair seemed darker than usual, and his beautiful eyes popped with brighter colours as he stood under the moon and star light. We used to be the same height, but he had soon grew much taller than me. I turned away once I realised I was staring.

"What do you think?" He asked, stepping closer and looking ahead to at the sea. 

The ocean is something I have always loved. Or maybe just water in general, swimming had always been one of my favourite hobbies. But nothing quite compared to how gorgeous the ocean looked, and how great it felt to swim in it; to float in the void of free gravity. I understood it's beauty and dangers, found true fascination by the way the waves softly crashed against the beach and brushed each stone with a gentle caress as the wind ushered it gently to the shore. The way the moon shone over the rippling water, the way his cheekbones stood out in such light and how his rose lips looked fuller--

Stop.

But I couldn't help it. I found the ocean beautiful, but he was something else. Something more. And I don't think he even knows it. 

"I think it's pretty frickin' amazing." I finally reply, the night becoming darker. I liked the night, it hides my flaws, my imperfections. His calming presence makes me feel at ease. And when I look at him, I catch him staring back, his face relaxed and smiling back at me that makes me feel like I'm already at home.

"Same here."

~

"Look, here's another one."

"Mmm."

The sounds of a conversation wakes me up. I open my eyes slightly, squinting them from the light of the room and rubbing them tiredly. I can detect that my brain is still waking up from a nap. I'm a little confused, and irritated by the sounds that disturbed my mind as I attempted to rest. With a groan I sit up slowly, and see Sherlock and John sitting at the dining table, looking at a laptop.

"Arrived from China a month ago: Chinese ceramic statue, sold four hundred thousand." Sherlock  says. John opens up a small book, one that looks like Lukis' diary. 

 "Ah, look: a month before that – a Chinese painting, half a million."

"All of them from an anonymous source. They're stealing them back in China and one by one they're feeding them into Britain."

"And every single auction coincides with Lukis or Van Coon travelling to China."

"Do you guys mind?" I ask groggily. Sherlock continues to surf the internet and John looks over his shoulder, giving me a small smile.

"Sorry, I know it's late."

"Yeah, you got that right." I mumbled back.

"So what if one of them got greedy when they were in China? What if one of them stole something?" Sherlock wondered, not caring that he disrupted my sleep.

"That's why Zhi Zhu's come."

"How long were you out with Raz?" I questioned, rubbing my tired eyes.

"Not long. We went to see Soo Lin, and then..." John paused, shaking his head softly before he spoke in a much quieter tone: "The killer got to her..."

"Oh." Is all I can say, feeling a wash of sadness when I see John's upset features. Despite being a writer, I could never conjure up good enough words to make one feel better. I was better at writing them instead of speaking without thinking, "That sucks."

"Ooh-ooh!" A knock on the door of the living room averts all of our attention. We shift our gazes towards the door, seeing Mrs Hudson standing there. "Sorry. Are we collecting for charity, Sherlock?"

"What?" He questions, confused and annoyed.

"A young man's outside with crates of books."

There's a pause. Sherlock and John stand up, and Mrs Hudson leaves to welcome whoever was at the door in. I narrowed my eyes, giving the boys a look. "Crates of books?"

This was going to be a long night.