The Lying Detective (Sherlock Holmes X OC)

FOUR- I'm Not Going To Fight You

Culverton led Anita, Sherlock, and John down a corridor. Sherlock had once again placed his hand in Anita's, squeezing it at random. Anita smiled at the random squeezes; she had missed all of him. Though, the drugs were a bit of a set back if you asked her. But, Anita was sure that he would be okay. He wouldn't leave her just yet.

"Where are we going now?" Sherlock asked Culverton.

"I want to show you my favorite room," Culverton replied as Sherlock looked off to the left side.

"No, let's go in here," Sherlock stated as he steered into a room, dragging Anita along with him. Inside was a board room with drip stands around an oval table.

"So you've had another one of your meetings?" Sherlock questioned.

"Oh, it's just a monthly top-up. Confession is good for the soul, providing you can delete it," Culverton replied as Anita pulled away from Sherlock to look at the drip stand with John. Sherlock's hand chased after her for a moment after she let go, but he didn't do much more.

"What's TD12?" John asked.

"It's a memory inhibitor," Sherlock answered as Culverton said,

"Bliss."

"Bliss?" Anita asked, her nose scrunching up.

"Opting ignorance, it makes the world go 'round," Culverton replied.

"Anyone ever opt to remember?" Anita asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Some people take the drip out, yes. Some people have the same...urges. Now, come on wasting time," Culverton stated as he started to walk towards the door.

"Indeed. You have, I estimate, twenty minutes left," Sherlock commented and Culverton stopped at the doorway.

"Sorry?"

"I sent a text from your phone, remember? It was read almost immediately. Factoring in a degree of shock and emotional decision, and a journey time based on the associated address, I'd say that your life as you know it had twenty minutes left to run. Well, no, seventeen and half to be precise but I rounded up for dramatic effect. Plus, Anita hates odd numbers. Could be why she's horrible at Sudoku. So, please do show us your favourite room. It'll give you a chance to say goodbye," Sherlock said before holding his hand out to Anita, who huffed at his little comment but grabbed it anyway. He then dragged her out of the room and John followed the couple.

"Speaking of serial killers, you know who's my favorite?" Culverton asked as the four of them stood in an elevator.

"Other than yourself?" Sherlock muttered and Anita snorted. Sherlock smirked; he missed her laugh and had yet to hear it. He had also yet to receive a proper kiss, but he was working up to that.

"H. H. Holmes. Relative of yours?" Culverton questioned as the elevator stopped and the four of them walked out to a dark corridor.

"Not as far as I know," Sherlock responded.

"You should check. What an idiot," Culverton commented as he led them through double doors and into the morgue. Anita shifted slightly next to Sherlock, looking around as she saw the Pathologist examining a corpse. This was his favourite room? Creepy, Anita thought, shaking her head slightly.

"Everyone out," Culverton ordered.

"Mr. Smith, we're actually in the middle of something," one of the Pathologists replied.

"Saheed, isn't it?" asked Culverton.

"Saheed, yes," the Pathologist, Saheed, answered.

"How long have you been working here now?"