No Shit, Sherlock

The Police Chase

I run through the streets of London, trying my hardest to find Baker street. I would've taken a cab, but the traffic is horrendous this morning.

"Excuse me! Can you please point me in the direction of Baker Street?" I ask a man.

He points to his left, "Go down that way and take a right."

I thank him and weave my way through the bustling crowd. Why did I decide to move to one of the busiest cities?

I follow the man's directions and quickly find the apartment complex. Thankfully, I can remember the apartment number.

I knock on the door and after a few seconds it swings open. "Can I help you?"

I ignore the rude tone in Sherlock's voice and nod, "I'm here for, Enola."

He steps back and gestures for me to step inside. Once I'm inside Enola greets me. "Good morning, (Y/n). You look like you've gone through a tornado."

I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror next to me and groan. My once perfectly curled hair has already fallen straight, my dress is surprisingly well, but there are obvious dark circles under my eyes.

"Thanks, Enola," I say sarcastically.

Sherlock watches me curiously, "I'm sorry, but who are you?"

"I'm Enola's partner, we met last night, but you weren't quite yourself."

"Oh, so you weren't a figment of my imagination then," he says with a sigh.

"Why do you sound so disappointed?"

He ignores my comment and turns to Enola, "Her neck is cut. Are you two involved in something dangerous?"

Enola and I stay quiet. We're women, we're always in danger.

Sherlock pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a deep breath. "Enola, you are still my ward. If you need my help, my offer remains on the table. Don't be so desperate to prove yourself."

Enola scoffs loudly.

And that is my cue to leave.

"I am not desperate and I do not need your help. (Y/n) and I are perfectly capable of handing this ourselves!"

I make my way out of the apartment and shut the door behind me.

Sherlock looks oddly familiar, but I'm certain that I've never met him before last night. Sure, I've seen him in the paper, but of course he looks different in real life.

"How dare he?! How dare he lecture me!"

Enola grabs my arm and drags me down the stairs with her. She takes a bite out of what looks like a dried up slice of cake. "I am so sick of him thinking he can control me!"

"He undermines our abilities but he can't even solve his own case and he lives in a bed of flummoxing papers and bewildering mold!"

We walk for a while before stopping at a park, the two of us sit on a bench, and she continues to complain.

"Enola?"

I look up to see a pretty guy smiling at Enola. She looks up in shock and I can see her cheeks redden.

"I think I saw a beverage cart back there, I'll be back," I tell Enola, winking as I walk away.

I turn back to see Enola talking to the boy, I have no idea who he is but it's easy to see that she's infatuated with him.

Now, back to trying to remember where I've seen Sherlock.

Perhaps, I saw him on the street one day? Although, if that were the case then I would surely know, because there would be a swarm of women following him.