Human Error - Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter thirty five - Tuesday brunch

A smile of satisfaction crawls onto my lips as I sip tenderly at my warm hot chocolate, the whipped cream pushing against my top lip like a soft pillow. It may only be eleven in the morning, but a girl has her cravings. I place the white mug onto the square table in front of me, taking in the warm atmosphere of people chatting and the buzz of the machines whirring, along with the lingering smell of coffee and vanilla.

I loved Tuesday's because they were my day off, but for some reason, I found myself back in the small cafe. John and I decided to go out and grab breakfast today, and it basically turned into a whole morning of us talking bad about Sherlock. It wasn't because we disliked him, but we needed to let out our frustrations about him because let's face it, there were many.

I call it the Tuesday brunch.

"I was washing up when I felt something in the water. I thought it was food, but when I pulled it out I realise it was toenails. Toenails." John cringed.

"Did you ask him why there were toenails in the washing up bowl?"

"He said it was an accident. How do you accidentally drop toenails into the sink?!"

I shook my head gently and chuckled. Although we were letting out our annoyance, it was also a time to appreciate having a friend as weird and wonderful as Sherlock.

Today we were supposed to be going over the case that Lestrade assigned us, but Sherlock told us that he needed to do some of his own research and then left early this morning whilst me and John were still sleeping. There wasn't much else for us to do other than wait, so we decided to go to my work and get breakfast.

John's eyes lighten up when my coworker Hayley walks in our direction, with a place of scrambled eggs, beans and toast. I wasn't sure what made John more pleased; the food or the woman.

"Thanks." He smiled at her as she placed the plate on the table, before replying and walking off.

"You think she's hot," I observed, raising a brow. "Ask her out."

"Oh, no, I couldn't possibly... hold on, so she's single?"

"Obviously."

John picked up his knife and fork, getting ready to dig into his food. "I'll think about it." He stated although I knew deep down that he already had made up his mind. "Anyway, I told him to be more careful with his experiments. I don't think he listened, though."

"Yeah, he definitely won't listen. But it was worth a try."

My phone beeps a couple of seconds later, indicating that I had a text. I eagerly pick my phone up from the table and turn the device on, reading the message.

'Meet me at Lestrade's office ASAP. Bring John, he won't answer his phone.'

"It's Sherlock," I tell him,  downing as much of my hot chocolate as I could before pushing my chair back. "Come on, the Tuesday brunch is over. Sherlock needs us to be at Lestrade's office as soon as."

"What? But I... ugh." John lets out an exasperated sigh, knowing he wasn't going to finish off his food and quickly making his peace with that before standing up too.

It doesn't take us too long to reach our desired destination. Although it was a little over eleven in the morning, the traffic wasn't too bad here in London. It was busy, but not as crazy and hectic as it usually was.

Lestrade's office was in a state of a half-organised clutter. The walls were painted white, brightening up the whole room. On a brown desk sat a computer, a notebook lying over and a small stack of paperwork. In the left corner of the room, there was a filing cabinet with more paperwork piled on top, and on the right, there was a water dispenser with no cups.

Sherlock walks briskly into the room and glances around at me and John. "Where is Lestrade?"

We both shrug.

Suddenly, the door bursts open and Lestrade rushes inside, glaring at us all with anticipation. "What is it? Is it urgent?"

"I solved the case." Sherlock announces, causing Lestrade to shut the door behind him and walk towards his desk.

"Who killed him?" Lestrade asked impatiently, taking a seat on his chair and grabbing a pen, preparing to take notes. Sherlock didn't hesitate before whipping out his phone and showing us all a photograph he had taken. It was clear that he took a photo from an image from a computer screen by how pixilated it seemed, but it was also clear that the image was of a beach-blonde woman.

"This is Lucy Bates. This photo is from CCTV footage from the reception area at the hotel."

"And?" Lestrade presses on, confused, "What is that supposed to prove?"

"Looking through Ryan's file, I realised that his nephew was called Sean Bates. Before Ryan got on good terms with his son, Adam, he was about to give his will to Sean. Lucy is Sean Bates wife. She murdered him, and here's your proof. She traveled to London to do the job." Sherlock explained to us, before going further into detail. As Sherlock is explaining, he uses a wide range of hand gestures and movements to give us that dramatic effect.

"She wanted the will to go to Sean so that they both could inherit his money and restaurant, and when she realised he was going to change his will she knew she needed to do something to stop him. According to her facebook profile, she has recently become unemployed. She needed the money, so what does she do? She steals Adam's mother's necklace from his room, already planning to frame him. She then follows them to London, and while Adam is out, she sprays Ryan's pajamas in benzene and leaves the necklace out on the bedside table with the note, knowing that Ryan would think that it was left by Adam. Ryan puts on the jewelry and heads towards the door. He walks along the shag carpet on the floor which causes enough static electricity to set himself ablaze so that the second he sets a hand on the metal doorknob, a spark ignites onto his now-flammable pajamas, which turns into a raging fire. Ryan runs down the corridor and towards the pool, successfully jumping in and putting out the flame. But by then it was too late."

"Wait, so... you're saying this woman did all that?" Lestrade asked in disbelief.

"Oh, you'll be surprised what women can do," I comment, folding my arms and sending a smirk Sherlock's way. "How dare you figure that out without us."

"I needed to get my research, you two were sleeping."

"Where is this Lucy Bates now?" Lestrade speaks up, looking at Sherlock. "Do you know?"

"Probably back in Birmingham now, I suspect. I think it's best to call her in for questioning, but I have no doubt that I'm right."

"Jesus..." Lestrade huffs, a little shocked. "The things people go through for money. Why not just shoot the poor guy and get it over with? Why go through all that trouble?"

"I'm sure if you look through her records, they'll be some indication to why she chose her methods," Sherlock answered. "Thank you for this case. Do you have any more for me?"

"Not at the moment, no."

Sherlock pulls a face of annoyance when he's told that there weren't any more weird cases for him. I just roll my eyes and place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Don't worry, smart-arse. I'll buy you a crossword puzzle later."