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Once they were finally out of the house, they decided to scour the back streets about five minutes away from Lauriston Gardens that had been wide enough to fit a car. They had figured out it would have taken the murderer the same amount of time to realise that the suitcase had been there. They had also figured out that the case had to be somewhere, such as a bulky item, without being noticed; it had only taken them less than an hour to locate the skip. Afterwards, taking the pink case back to 221B only to see John wasn't with them, leaving him behind at Lauriston Gardens, Sherlock texts him.
Baker Street. Come at once if convenient.
SH
Both Holmes had now sat down, each having three nicotine patches on their arms. Cora, now in her favourite velvet teal armchair legs tucked underneath her, sipping tea besides that of her brothers that Mrs Hudson had probably accepted delivery for earlier this evening.
"Cora, be a dear and text, John. My phone is still in the kitchen," Sherlock asked his sister as he gazed blankly up at the ceiling from his position on the sofa and in doing so.
Cora rolled her eyes in disbelief, thankful that her brother hadn't seen it, before placing her tea on the small ornate wood side table between hers and Sherlock's chairs to grab her phone.
If inconvenient, come anyway.
CH
It had been less than half an hour before Sherlock began complaining of the Army Doctors' lateness, "Where on Earth is that man? He should have gotten here by now. Shoot him another text, would you, Cora?" Which made her roll her eyes at him, which Sherlock caught this time.
"Don't roll your eyes in such an incredulous way, dear sister and just text him, will you," Sherlock scoffed uncaringly, still in the same place he was an hour ago.
"You have arms and legs, brother dear. Why don't you make yourself useful and text him yourself instead of lying there in a nicotine-induced haze," she suggested icily, glaring daggers into him and looking up from the book she was now reading.
"You know very well I don't work like that, and Coralline, now be a dear and text John to make it sound more appealing this time, will you."
"You're impossible sometimes, Sherl, you are," she huffed, knowing there was no point in arguing her point anymore, so now she put down her book and grabbed her phone.
It could be dangerous.
CH
"Okay, done," she slammed her phone down and returned to reading.
It was not only thirty minutes later that John came hobbling into the flat, finding Sherlock on the sofa, their head facing towards the window, a cushion under his head, no longer wearing his coat or jacket, the sleeves of his shirt unbuttoned and rolled up to his elbows at that moment snaps open his eyes.
On the other hand, Cora has curled up with her feet underneath her, reading a book in a teal armchair that hadn't been there earlier this evening.
"What are you doing?" John asked with a frown, glancing at one Holmes and then the other as soon as he crossed the threshold.
"Nicotine patch," Cora responded rather calmly, eyes still glued to her book, quickly holding up her free arm lined with patches, as does Sherlock from the sofa.
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𝑳𝒆𝒕 𝑯𝒊𝒎 𝑮𝒐 (𝑱𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝑾𝒂𝒕𝒔𝒐𝒏)
Fanfiction"You're doing that thing again." "What thing?" "Where you start talking and expect me to care." Cora has always dreamed of having a more normal existence, especially when your last name is Holmes, of all things, are not expected. That's until reti...
