No Shit, Sherlock

Weird Looks

It's been three days since the theater murder. We have all been meeting every night, but no one has any new information. Enola, Timothée and I walk down the street together. We're looking for something to do as everyone else was busy.

"Tewkesbury said that?" Enola asks.

Timothée laughs, "He was very drunk at the time, but yes. He did, in fact, say that he had thought you were attractive when you first met. Even though you were dressed as a boy."

"That's true love," I say, laughing.

Enola furrows her eyebrows, "But what if he was disappointed to find out I wasn't a boy."

"Then he wouldn't be dating you and worshipping the ground you walk on."

She rolls her eyes at me, "Whatever."

Timothée walks in between us, a smile on his face. "I enjoy being with you two."

"You should hang out with us more. We are much cooler than berryboy," I say.

Enola nods, "Exactly."

There's a crowd surrounding something ahead of us. Enola and I look at each other before making our way through the crowd. I manage to get to the front and sigh at the sight.

A man lays dead on the ground of an alleyway. I don't know his name, but I recognize him from the detective meeting.

Lestrade walks over to Enola and I, a solemn look on his face. "Another detective."

"Were there any witnesses?" I ask.

He shakes his head, "No, but he's been dead since last night."

Timothée stands behind us, looking down at his feet. I reach back and grab his hand, squeezing it lightly. Two more men join us, and I try my hardest not to groan.

"Good afternoon," says Greg, his eyes focused on Timothée.

The way he looks at him makes me uneasy. I think Enola noticed as well because she quickly pulls his attention to her. "You're late."

Greg looks down at her, "You three aren't supposed to be here."

"It's a public street. We can be wherever we want," Timothée says.

I look past Greg and Jeff, trying to see the crime scene. All I can see is the body lying on the ground with a metal bar beside it. Greg steps in front of me, "You should leave."

Timothée grabs my shoulder, "Come on, we need to go to the office anyway."

The three of us walk away. Once we're a safe distance from Greg, I speak to Timothée. "He was looking at you weirdly."

"Most people do."

I roll my eyes at him, "Just watch your surroundings, please."

His green eyes shine with worry. "I will."

~~°°••°°~~

My head rests against my desk. I've been dizzy since we got to the office, but thought nothing of it. Enola taps my shoulder, "You don't look like you're feeling well."

"I'll be fine, I'm just a bit lightheaded."

Timothée who is sitting in front of me, shakes his head, "You look clammy."

"Thanks," I say sarcastically.

Enola sighs, "We'll walk you home."

I raise my head up just enough to look at her, "I suppose a nap would be good."

The three of us walk to the apartment. Timothée holds my arm as we walk, in fear of me passing out. When we get to the apartment, Sherlock opens the door.

"I thought you were going to be gone for the day," he says.

I walk inside and immediately sit down on the couch. John looks over at me, "You doing okay?"

"I just need a nap."

Sherlock stands in front of me, crossing his arms. "Then you should go to the bedroom."

I slowly stand up, waving goodbye to Timothée and Enola as I walk to the bedroom. The second my head hits my pillow, I'm out like a light.

Author's Note: Another short chapter, but the next one will be longer! I love the friendship between Y/n, Enola, and Timothée. They're such a cute fruity trio.

Anyways, this is your daily reminder to read my other stories because they deserve love as well;)