Little Game Of Ours [BBC Sherlock Fanfiction]

Chapter 1. " I'm Sherlock Holmes and you are?"

All Rights Goes To BBC Sherlock, the only thing I own is my oc's! And you

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The sound of dozens of the camera's buttons and the blinking and the police yelling at the journalists to keep their distance filled the silence around the area. Some policemen was taking the dogs round the area as Sherlock stood looking at the bodies with John Watson beside him. The rain whipped them in the face each time the wind hit, and since it was no umbrella around, they were wet, or soaked to be more precise. Watson looked at Sherlock that seemed to take in a stare contest with one of the bodies, "Sherlock?" John poked him. Sherlock looked at him immediatly, " what?". " Nothing... just continue...whatever you were doing" John mumbled as he looked about, dragging his left hand trough his wet hair.

Sherlock nodded as he suddenly looked up, spotting the police talking to a person, maybe it was the 'new detective'?. Sherlock quickly went around the body and over to the police. But just when he arrived the person left.

They dissapeared down the street and in a taxi. " Who was that?" John asked curiously as he had just made it to them. Sherlock took a quick look at the policemen then at Watson " We don't know, yet" ." What? You don't know who it is?" John asked Sherlock, that at the moment stood completely still, not moving a single muscle. " No, I don't" Sherlock answered simply as he began walking down the street. " Sher... Sherlock! " John tried to keep up with Sherlock, but he was almost jogging away. John couldn't keep up with his leg in the condition it was for long. " Where are you going? Bakerstreet is the other way!" John shouted after him. " I know, I'm not an idiot" Sherlock replied as he dissapeared around a corner, out of John's sight. John stopped as he facepalmed in a deep sigh, " why does he have to dissapear all the time?" he asked himself as he called after a taxi.

Sherlock was following some sort of route:

Forward, left, right, left, left, right, right, forward, left, right, left, left, right right.

There the taxi stood, but where was the passenger? It had just arrived.

Sherlock went to the taxi and opened the driver's door, and met an old mans face. " Can I help you?" he asked with a smile, as his glasses went to the tip of the old nose of his. " Yes. Can you tell me where the passenger went?" Sherlock asked with a fake smile, as rain drops dripped down from his chin. The driver sighed as he pointed down the street " down there". Sherlock nodded, smiled and locked the door. He went in the direction the driver had told him, suddenly he stopped and turned around. The man had lied, because now the passenger went out of the taxi.

Sherlock quickly went after the person that dissapeared into a smug. Sherlock followed, as he glared at the driver when he passed him.

When he got to the smug, the person wasn't seeable. He went to the end of the smug, then he stopped when he heard a security on a gun getting deactivated. He slowly lifted his hands up, not turning around in the direction of where the sound came from. He heard footsteps behind him, and the tip of a handgun at his back head. He sighed as he looked a bit over the shoulder, but looked straight forward when the gun got pressed against his head, harder.

" No need to be violent..." Sherlock said calmed, as he looked at a dirty container in front of him, the smell was disgusting.

It was quiet for a while before the gun was removed and Sherlock turned around, his eyes noticed the person was wearing a black coat, just like his, but looked newer and was made out of expensive fabric that seemed to handle rain pretty well enough so the wearer did not get wet,

Black skinny jeans, looking like leather, but no, a bit thicker and more space between leg and fabric.

Black shoes, same as his, a bit smaller though, and the left one was dirty, a splotch of fresh mud on the left front side.

A black scarf, thin material, small strips on each ends, just like his, but more straight, not pointing in all directions, just down.

Coal black hair, looking like his own hair, but this was more fluffy and windy, looking like the person had just been ruffling its hair.

Face, not clearly visible because of the shadows around, could be a man or a woman, a bit hard to say, serious eyes, colour...grey-blue , brows, fixed recently, almost two straight lines but curvy at the end in the direction of the ears, colour.. black. Nose, fitting the rest of the face, a bit feminie though. Mouth, at the moment, a straight line, lips was hid, instead of biting the lip, curling them in seemed to be a better opinion for the person, but after whar was seeable, thin, hard lips, not afraid of using the mouth after few marks of the front teeth biting the down part many times, not because of nervousness it seemed, and the chin, small.

Sherlock looked at the gun, an Sig Pro from switzerland, lenght ca 7.4 in, weight is 765 g, loaded with 9x19 mm Parabellum bullets, was last used a month ago.

Sherlock lended out his hand, already taken his gloves off.

" I'm Sherlock Holmes, and you are?"