A Sign Of Two

8 - A Chemical Defect

           

"But why the Queen?" Sherlock thought out aloud.

"Probably for money or something. Kidnap the queen and you can ask for any ransom" I spoke up, feeling kind of clever.

"Hmm"

*25 Minutes Later*

I looked over at Sherlock, who was sitting on his chair, fully focused on whatever he was doing on his phone.

"Whatcha doing?" I called over to him curiously.

"What?" he answered lazily "Oh, I'm texting"

"Texting who?"

"My homeless network" he responded quickly.

"Your what?" I laughed. So full of surprises.

"He has a 'network' of tramps. He pays them to spy on people for him" John said, obviously thinking the whole 'homeless network' was a waste of time.

"I need people to keep an eye on and around Buckingham Palace" Sherlock explained, ignoring John's comment. "Anyone seen there more than 3 times a week? I need to know. If our criminal is planning an assault on the Queen, he will most definitely need to know how to infiltrate her home"

"So do you like the Queen then?" I said to the detective, half interested half mocking him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Sherlock looked up from his phone.

"I said do you like the Queen? You seem very determined to stop the kidnapper"

"Oh please" Sherlock spat "This is the most interesting case I've had in weeks. I'm not doing it because I like The Queen. I'm doing it because it's fun. Don't you see Eliza, my dear? The game is on!"

Sherlock was now grinning ear to ear. John and I were both silent.

"What?" Sherlock questioned our silence, a bit confused.

"Kidnapped women Sherlock?" John explained "Not good. Maybe don't do the smiling"

Sherlock nodded, and then promptly went back to his texting like nothing had happened.

I yawned, suddenly realising how tired I was. Spending so much time keeping up with a genius has a funny way of wearing you out. Physically and emotionally.

Damn you Sherlock Holmes.

"Well, I'm gonna go back to my flat and get some sleep. I'll see you guys tomorrow" I announced to the two men.

"Oh alright, night Eliza" John said with a friendly smile.

Sherlock didn't look up from his phone, so I could only assume whatever he was doing was more important. He probably would have got angry if I disturbed him anyway, and he never said goodbye to John when he went out.

I made my way out of John and Sherlock's flat, down the stairs, and through the door to my own home. It was awfully mundane compared to the flat upstairs. No skulls, no jars of eyeballs, no knifes. Just books and a bed really. I'd be lying if I said I'd rather be here than in 221B.

I was about to settle down and get some sleep when my phone buzzed inside my back pocket:

Sleep Well.

SH

I smiled at the simple text from the man upstairs.

That night I dreamed about the case and the kidnapped women. I dreamed about my old life back home and how it contrasted with my current life in London. And I dreamed about Sherlock Holmes, I dreamed about his lips as they brushed against mine, his strong hand on the small of my back, pulling me closer. I never wanted to wake up.