A Game Of Hearts And Minds

CHAPTER I - 'Phone-cheating'

If you would have told me a year ago that i would be living in with the infamous Sherlock Holmes, i would have laughed in your face. And trust me, sometimes I can't even believe it myself yet. I'll get over it, I just gotta be dramatic and mysterious about it first.

Living with Sherlock holmes sure isn't the best, neither the worst. Trust me, in all the chaos, there is calculation. Well, it seems so. Sometimes I can't even imagine what is going on inside Sherlocks head, neither does Mycroft, my brother in law. He prefers me to stay out of Sherlock's cases,  but I wouldn't be me if I'd listen to him. I don't listen to men, and particulary not to Mycroft.

For the past days, Sherlock had been drawn to his phone more than usual. It wasn't unusual for him to be a little more silent or introverted, that's how I met him, but the past couple of days it had been bothering me. "Wanna watch a movie?" I asked, my eyes darting across the room to Sherlock, who was leaning back in the two hind legs of his chair, his phone in hand. "Sherl?" No response.  I sighed heavily before I unfolded my legs from underneath my butt and lifted from the leather couch that had warmed up below me, trading it's warmth for the cold floor below my feet.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm having some tea with Misses Hudson." I said. I recognized a hint of annoyance in my own voice. As I turned to look over to him, he frowned in confusement. 

"Not with me?" 

"Sherlock, you've been ignoring me for days being literaly plastered to you screen!"

"I haven't."

"Yes you have. What have I just asked you?"

"No I hav-" He went silent mid-sentence, his gaze still forced on me.

"Yes you have Sherlock. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm having an evening soother with Misses Hudson." And with that, I left to 221A. 

Halfway down the stairs, Misses Hudson peeked her head around the corner. "Hi darling. Fancy some tea?"

A smile grew across my face. Somehow, misses Hudson always had a way to cheer me up. Wether it was with her evening soothers, or with her big smile that always shone over her face, that woman was the definition of happiness and joy. "I'd rather have an evening soother if that's alright with you."

"What's bothering you dear?" Misses Hudsons face was in a frown, filled with slight concern. It was like I radiated annoyance. I let out a deep sigh. "It's Sherlock. He-'' 

"He hasn't been,'' she mouthed the words 'hitting you' like they were too dirty to speak out loud: ''has he?" 

"No misses Hudson! Far from that actually. I'd prefer that actually.." I smirked and laughed to myself. " He's been ignoring me for days now, he's all clingy to his phone."

Mrs Hudson remained silent for a moment, like she was deciding on what to say. "You know, when I was your age and my ex-husband wasn't in jail yet, he'd also ignore me for days. Later, it turned out that he was dealing and doing drugs." She practically whispered her last words.

"Sherlock isn't doing drugs misses Hudson. No need to be concerned of that." 

And with those words the concern whiped from her face, bringing back her lovely smile. "Well dear, sometimes, it's better to just have a little evening soother than to overthink." She said while she opened one of the cabinets in her kitchen, revealing a shitload of liqour. "Vodka, Wine or Gin?"

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I promise I hadn't drank too much, just barely enough to forget just a bit of the evening. And it wasn't my fault eiter, it was mrs Hudson who kept on pouring me drinks. At least I was still concious enough to notice Sherlocks phone on the diningtable when I entered our apartment again. My eyes flicked to our closed bedroom door, and over to the phone again. Did I dare? Yes ofcourse I did. 

I stumbled over to the phone and picked it up. When I tried to open it, it was locked with a pincode. "Fuck" I whispered. Sherlock had never had his phone locked up until this point. In a slight panic, I glanced over to the keypad. Oil residu. His fingers had left the slightest amounts of oil residu on the keypad, just barely enough for me to figure out his password. The date we met, how awfully cute and obvious at the same time.

I navigated through his phone, checking his messages. Nothing out of the ordinary at first, but then, bingo. Some kind of message from an unknown person, Sherlock always gave his contacts some kind of stupid names, and unknown surely wasn't one of them. I flipped my phone out of my pocket with an insane amount of clumsiness, which almost caused me to drop Sherlocks phone, but I caught it right on time with my heart now pounding in my chest. Why can't anything go smoothly when I need it to go smooth and silent? 

I took pictures of the unknown numbers profile, along with some of the messages. They were shadowy, but from what I could deduce, they were about some kind of 'whistleing murderer', and by the amount of messages, I figured that this must have been the person that Sherlock had to have been texting the past couple of days. Was this person the murderer? I guess I was going to have to find out.

"What are you doing?" Sherlocks cold and low voice rang through the room, he clearly had been sleeping, as his hair was all messy. 

"I- your phone was vibrating on the table, and I wanted to turn it off so it wouldn't wake us up." I quickly lied. 

A soft growling sound came from Sherlocks throat. "Sure. You coming?" He asked while he waddled off to the bedroom again.