The Lying Detective (Sherlock Holmes X OC)

EIGHT- The East Wind Is Coming To Get You

"Get out!" Sherlock shouted at a client as he pulled open the door.

"She's possessed by the Devil!" the client insisted, "I swear my wife is channeling Satan!"

"Yes, boring," Sherlock replied, crossly, then he gestured at the landing.

"Go away!" Sherlock yelled. Making an exasperated sound, the man stormed out of the room. His wife followed, turning to Sherlock as she passed.

"I'm not channeling Satan!" she stated, exasperated.

"Why not, given your immediate alternative?" Sherlock said and he slammed the door shut.

Anita snorted from her place on the sofa, a book in her hands. Sherlock sighed deeply before, unceremoniously, plopping down on the sofa with Anita, laying his head in her lap. Anita moved her book slightly, making sure not to stab him in the eye with one of the corners. Sherlock stared up at her and eventually Anita moved her book away and looked down at Sherlock, a sweet smile on her face.

"Hello, dear," she hummed and he grunted at her. Anita chuckled, removing one of her hands from her book down to his hair and running her hand through it once. Sherlock hummed slightly at her actions, causing her to smirk above him. Sherlock smiled up at her, loving how focused she was on her book.

"What?" she asked, sparing him a glance as she closed her book.

"You're beautiful," he replied and Anita smiled, shaking her head.

"Yeah?" she asked, sarcastically, and he nodded. Anita leaned down, giving him a small kiss. As she pulled away, Sherlock reached a hand up and pushed her back. Anita smirked into the kiss, shifting slightly to get in a more comfortable position. Anita pulled back, and patted the top of his head.

"Come on, get off me," she muttered and Sherlock, begrudgingly, moved his head off of her lap. Anita got up and pulled Sherlock to his feet as well. Sherlock took her hand and spun her away from him before pulling her back. Anita giggled, shaking her head at him as she leaned against his chest.

"I think I've still got a movie left from our honeymoon. I was thinking- What's that?" she asked, abruptly, as she pushed herself off of Sherlock walked over to a piece of paper, picking it up and holding it up for Sherlock to see the series of words over it,

Police Officer

Judge?

Broadcaster

Me

Need to Kill

Who?

The word Me had a streak of blood across it. Sherlock walked over and grabbed the paper from Anita, his eyes widening. Sherlock ran over to the kitchen and held the piece of paper up to the light suspended over the table, looking at the writing on it. He turned it over and looked at the back of it. Anita chased after him, even if she had no idea what he was getting at.

"She was real," Sherlock muttered and Anita's face scrunched up.

"Who? Faith?"

"Yes," he replied, frowning.

Sherlock pulled open the top drawer under the work surface, glancing quickly in, slamming it shut again and pulling open the next drawer down and starting to rummage about. Then he pulled out an ultraviolet torch and Anita reached up to the overhead light, adjusting the bulb until the kitchen was plunged into darkness. Sherlock shined the light onto the note as Anita moved closer to his side. Illuminated by its blue glow, written on the paper were two large words glowing brightly, overlaying the original handwriting.