Orphan on Baker Street

Tenth: Tea

Everyone - Sherlock, Mary, John, Mrs. Hudson, and me - sits around the coffee table in mismatching chairs and the sofa.

"Wait," John says. I can practically hear the gears turning in his head. "Explain that again, Sherlock, but with more detail."

Sherlock sighs with an eyeroll. "Gerald is the shooter," he repeats. "He convinces his patients that it's okay to want to die and makes them suicidal. Then he arranges a time and place, and he kills them. Was that enough detail?"

"Did you know that," I start softly, "when you set me up as bait?" We stare hard at each other for a few seconds.

"No," he says before turning away. He isn't lying.

"When are you going to tell Lestrade?" John inquires.

"I already did," Sherlock says, standing impatiently. "Does anybody else want some tea?" He walks away without waiting for someone to answer. Mary lowers her hand sadly and looks to the baby in her arms. I frown, and there's a knock at the door. John stands to get it.

"Greg," John greets. He opens the door wider for him, and Lestrade walks in.

"Hey," he says with a smile to John. Then he nods to the remaining people sitting around the coffee table. "Where's Sherlock?"

"You could've just texted me, detective," Sherlock calls from the kitchen doorway. He sips on a small cup of tea.

"Not much fun in that," Greg replies simply, setting his briefcase down by the door. "You got a new violin?"

"No; it's Mickey's," Sherlock responds. Then he pauses mid-sip and stares over at me.

"I didn't know you played," Greg remarks, smiling over at me.

"You're here for her," Sherlock says quietly.

"What?" John and Greg say at the same time. Mary turns around to look at Greg, and Mrs. Hudson straightens on the sofa.

"Nothing. What were you going to ask me?" Sherlock says, standing up straight. John closes the door and goes to the kitchen.

"I need some proof before I can present it to everyone," Greg says. Sherlock frowns.

"Just tell them I said it," Sherlock replies. John comes from behind him with a small tray topped with a tea set. He places the tray on the coffee table and offers Greg a seat on the couch.

"Sherlock," Greg starts. It sounds like he's about to explain math to a baby. "One day, that isn't going to be enough, and I think this is the day."

"Well, I think it's not," Sherlock responds simply. "By the way," he starts again, pouring himself more tea, "I wasn't lying when I said she was 16. Bye, Greg."

"I know tha-"

"Bye, Greg," Sherlock interrupts loudly. He lifts Greg up from the couch and walks him to the door. "Good seeing you." Sherlock gives him a sarcastic smile before pushing Greg's suitcase to its owner's chest and opening the door.

Greg leaves without a word, shaking his head slightly. The door shuts behind him.

"What's he going to tell them, then?" I ask after setting my tea cup down.

"Oh, he was lying," Sherlock tells me with a smile.

"Why would he lie?" Mary asks curiously.

"He made a good point, though, Sherlock," John says. Nobody bothers to answer Mary; I'm sure everyone else was wondering, too.

"My word is enough proof," Sherlock says stubbornly.

"Sherlock," I say with a warning tone. My eyebrows raise toward him. He rolls his eyes.

"Stop with the whole 'admitting' thing," he puts air quotes around the word.

John sighs and sips his tea. Mary stands to put the baby asleep, I guess. It's almost 6:30 at night. When Mary leaves, Sherlock takes a seat in her now empty chair.

"You do know why he lied," Sherlock says quietly to me, "right?" I give him a simple nod and take a final sip of my tea.

"Goodnight, everyone," I say as I stand and smooth out my dress.