TO BE FOUND : Book One

Need Your Loving Tonight

The following morning, they had all found themselves in 221B, watching the news on the TV. Victoria pulled a chair, sitting between the boys, seeing the high-rise block of flats and the headline that read, '12 dead in gas explosion.' The camera transitions, revealing a close-up of the ultimate damage that was done to the building. "The explosion, which ripped through several floors, killing twelve people..." The newsreader read from his reports.

"Whole block of flats," John muttered, shaking his head.

The news reader continues, "...is said to have been caused by a faulty gas main. A spokesman from the utilities company..."

"He certainly gets around."

Sherlock in frustration, picks up the remote, muting the TV, "Well, obviously I lost that round- although technically I did solve the case." Victoria notices that distant look in his eyes, "He killed the old lady because she started to describe him." He raises a finger, "Just once, he put himself in the firing line."

John rose a brow at the detective, "What do you mean?"

Victoria spoke up, keeping her eyes on the TV screen, continuing to read the headline over and over in her head, "He tends to stand above it all, like a puppeteer. Before this he had never had direct contact with anyone, until now." She spoke as if she knew the feeling of being manipulated by a puppet master.

John looked to her with his brows scrunched together, "What... like the Connie Prince murder – he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?"

Sherlock smirked, "Novel."

Victoria and John remain silent, both in a separate head space from Sherlock's, who seemed to be unbothered by the situation at hand. She found herself distracted, being carried away in a daydream, staring blankly at the screen. Sherlock and John continued to bounce off of each other, they were arguing, both irate. She couldn't bring herself to listen to them. Then, John stood from his chair, capturing the woman's attention. 

"I hope you two will be very happy together." John said bitterly.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock shook his head, tilting his head to make sure he had heard the doctor correctly.

John was furious, "There are lives at stake, Sherlock – actual human lives... Just – just so I know, do you care about that at all?"

"Will caring about them help save them?" Sherlock asked irritably.

"Nope."

"Then I'll continue to not make that mistake."

"And you find that easy, do you?" John asked incredulously.

"Boys-" Victoria made an attempt to calm them.

"Yes, very. Is that news to you?" Sherlock asked, not sparing a second to hold back.

John shook his head, smiling bitterly, "No, no."

They lock eyes, and Sherlock smirks, "I've disappointed you.'

John points to him, smiling angrily, and saying sarcastically, "That's good. That's a good deduction."

Sherlock was quick to respond, "Don't make people into heroes, John. They don't exist. Even if they did I wouldn't be one of them."

Victoria had enough of their bickering, she rose up from her chair, and made a start to the door, grabbing her coat from the coat rack. She was halfway down the stairs, when she heard the two men call for her, but she ignored them. She pulled on a coat and headed to the front door. Mrs. Hudson had a tray of treats she was about to carry up to the flat, but paused to allow the hurried young woman to pass by. "Oh! Victoria, where are you going, dear? It's cold out there today, telly said record temperatures."