221B

Chapter 12 - A Scandal in Belgravia

A week later, I go out for a little bit for the night, and come back home a little late; Mrs. Hudson is still up and asks me to help her with something. Afterwards, I walk upstairs and start to walk past the living room.

“I know what you were.”

I jump and turn to look inside the living room.

“Sherlock!” I say when I see his silhouette sitting in his chair, there’s one light on in the room, and the golden light shines on only half of him; his hands are in his signature “prayer position”.

“I didn’t see you.” I say, standing in the doorway. “I thought you were…” I gesture in the general direction of his bedroom with one hand. “Asleep.” I finish. “Sorry I was so late, Mrs. Hudson needed some help downstairs moving something.” I notice he’s completely silent and I step forward. “Are you alrigh-?”

“I know what you were.” He interrupts.

“Sorry?” I ask. “Know that I was what?”

“I know what you were in the past.”

“What, that I was a bartender?” I say. Inside, I’m panicking, my heart races, because I know he’s not talking about that. He unfolds his hands. “Yes you already knew that.” I say as he stands and walks over to me. I attempt to remain calm when he stops just a few feet in front of me.

He says each word slowly, pausing a moment between sentences, enunciating each word perfectly.

“You were a spy. An American spy.”

As he speaks, the color drains from my face. I stare up at him; the light still illuminates half of him.

He knows.

“H-how did you find out?” I manage a moment later. I feel petrified, what did I do that led him to figure out my past?

“Does it matter?” He says, his voice cold.

“Yes.” I swallow. “It does.”

“I figured it out.” He says. “It’s obvious, isn’t it?”

“I wouldn’t know.” I say. “What gave me away?”

“You have more reflexes than any person I know,”

“The ashtray.” He replies, pulling out a glass ashtray. John laughs as Sherlock tosses the ashtray in the air. I reach out and catch it before he can and hand it back to him.

 

“The way you pronounce and spell things. You use also different words. You sometimes say pavement as sidewalk. Spell colour as color, favourite as favorite. The accent slips on words sometimes-hardly noticeable, but when one pays close attention to the way you talk…” He pauses. “It’s noticeable.” He pauses again. “You never studied clostridium botulium in high school, ever. No one I know of has studied that in high school.” He pauses again. “You’ve said that what you’re doing now is a lot safer than what you did before.”

“Trust me, this is a lot safer than what I did before.” I mutter under my breath.

“What was that?” She asks. John looks at me and gives me a questioning look.

“Nothing.” I say.

“Hm. Okay then.” She goes over to stand by Lestrade as Sherlock leans into the car to look at something inside.

“What did you say?” John asks me.

“Nothing.” I answer.

“That’s a load of crap and you know it.”