After The Fall || A Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 6 - Getting to Know You

"This is the only way you'll ever get to know him. He's used to me dragging people in. He can be nice sometimes, bear with him a while and he might smile at you one day." John laughed, leading Jemima into 221B.

"John!" Jemima frowned "He's sitting right there!"

"Don't worry, he's never listening."

"Oh I am you know." Sherlock said from the other side of the room, not even bothering to look at them. "I just don't bother to say anything. As long as you still think I'm pleasant enough to be your friend I'm fine."

"That's cute." Jemima smiled to herself.

"But you don't have friends though, do you?" Sherlock burst out suddenly, turning to look at Jemima.

"Sherlock!" John exclaimed.

"It's fine, he's right anyway. I don't have many friends. I've only got one." She replied, smiling sheepishly at John.

Sherlock's eyes widened. He paused for a second before asking, "Do you read John's blog?"

"No. I didn't even know that John had a blog. Why?" Jemima replied.

"Well, let's just say," Sherlock tented his fingers under his chin. "That's not the first time that has been said about John."

"Well then." Jemima smirked at Sherlock. "It seems we're not so different after all."

Sherlock to his surprise, felt his cheeks redden. He turned away to prevent her seeing and quickly went back to work at his microscope, ignoring them both.

"So you've got a case then." Jemima observed, studying the packed evidence wall.

"Hmmm." Sherlock replied, trying not to let her make him blush again.

"John told me all about your job and what you two do together. It's all fascinating, I love it." She told him, walking over to the evidence wall and taking a closer look at the case notes that were affixed to the wall with a large penknife.

"You do?" He looked up, surprised.

"Yeah. I always liked the idea of being a criminal psychologist but this is much more fun." She grinned.

Sherlock found himself grinning back, bit he snapped his head back to the microscope before she could see.

"Hmmm. It's a bit tricky, isn't it?" She observed, looking over the clues on the wall. She gestured to a note on the wall. "Have you considered the gardener? You might want to look into his use of pesticides."

Sherlock stared at her, his eyes wide.

"Of course." He mumbled to himself, annoyed that she'd figured it out before him.

"Sometimes all you need is a fresh pair of eyes to work out the problem." She smiled at him nonchalantly. "You're welcome, by the way."

She walked back out of the flat and made her way downstairs. As soon as she was out of earshot Sherlock slapped himself on the forehead in his frustration.

"I was stupid John! Totally blind! How did I not see it before?" He exclaimed, flouncing around the room. "And, more importantly, how did she get it before I did?"

"I think you're working yourself up a bit too much." John told his flustered friend in an attempt to calm him.

Sherlock perched on his armchair, still twitchy and unable to sit still.

"Like she said, it's just a fresh pair of eyes." John told him calmly.

"It's more than that." Sherlock shook his head, deep in thought. "She's more intelligent than I assumed."