High Functioning Hopeless Romantic

Chapter 4

A half an hour later as not much had changed in 221B. I sat with Mary on the floor laughing at the brides in the magazine that looked like they had been painted stiff with a stick up their bum. Sherlock had continued to type furiously while John sipped his tea and read the paper.

"Well maybe next time you should think harder about it before you hire a bloody ex convict to assist you," said a voice from the door. A handsome man with silverish hair came into view, shaking his head at his phone as he ended the call.

"Problem at Scotland Yard?" asked John looking up.

"Anderson decided it would be smart to hire an ex convict to help him with a case. Long story short, the convict has $200 more than he used to, and Anderson has $200 less than he did before," replied the man, chuckling at his story.

"I think it's clear that what Anderson considers a smart choice, never is," said Sherlock, eyes still locked onscreen.

"That's why I have you Sherlock. And I need you to help us with a case right now," said the man. He eyes flicked towards ms and he smiled. I felt my heart flutter momentarily. "Oh hello, I'm Greg Lestrade," he said walking towards me and holding out a hand.

"No need to make up a fake name for this woman, she's a friend of ours Garrett," said Sherlock. The man, who I assumed to actually be named Greg, shot a glare at Sherlock and looked back at me.

"Don't listen to him, 7 years we've worked together and he's never bothered to learn my name. It's Greg."

"Oh I believe you, he's not really one for manners that one," I said laughing. Sherlock, for once, looked up from the laptop and looked over me, studying me like a puzzle. He shut the laptop, eyes still glued to me, and jumped from the chair. I squirmed under his frozen gaze and found myself breaking contact first.

"What kind of case?" asked Sherlock, redirecting his state from you to the DI.

"Man found dead in an elevator of a hotel this morning, weird thing is that someone pressed the button to send him down, but when the hotel was searched they couldn't find anyone."

"That's because I wasn't there. Obviously the murderer escaped. Or, even smarter, they're still there, posing as one of the guests. But I'm guessing you already questioned all the guests. Either this killer has a good hiding spot or a good poker face. Ooh this is brilliant!" Sherlock sang, prancing to the coat hanger. "Mrs. Hudson! Where did you put my coat?" he yelled down the stairs.

"I had to wash it Sherlock, there were specks of blood all over it," she hollered back. He rolled his eye dramatically and went to sit back down. Greg looked at him expectedly.

"Sherlock what are you doing? Let's go!"

"No," he remarked plainly.

"Sherlock, there is a murderer on the loose out there, we need you down there now!"

"No," he stated again.

"He doesn't have his coat," said John, still reading the newspaper. I chuckled.

"It's a bloody coat, am I missing the significance of it?" I questioned, looking around incredulously.

"Sherlock can't go anywhere without it. It helps him look mysterious, especially when he turns up the coat collar," explained John.

"So because he doesn't look all detectivey, he's going to let a murderer go on a killing spree?" I could not believe Sherlock Holmes was this shallow.

"HE is right here," sneered Sherlock, annoyed at the open talk about him. "And I can go without my coat, I'll just get another one." He marched off down the hall towards what I assumed was his room.

"I don't think he has another coat," chuckled John. We broke into fits of laughter and tried to hold it in when Sherlock hurried back into the room. He was wearing a dark blue knit jumper, it looked a little small on him.

"Hey, that's my jumper!" accused John.

"Ahh yes, I borrowed it once when I was sick."

"Well that's fantastic, you can just keep it. You look great in it anyways," replied John sarcastically. I snorted at his dry humor and Sherlock narrowed his eyes at me.

"Are we ready to go then?" asked Lestrade. He turned towards me and smiled. "Again, pleasure to meet, I hope to see you around more." I smiled and responded with a simple, "you too". John gave Mary a quick peck on the cheek and out the door they went. After they walked down the hall a bit I heard Sherlock.

"Ah thank you for the coat Mrs. Hudson. I would not have left without it."

~

After eating a quick dinner with Mary and Mrs. Hudson, I decided to go back down to my flat. I settled into the couch with my laptop, checking my work email for a second time today. I had an offer from a previous company I worked with. It was due next week, but procrastination was second nature to me so I decided to get started on it. I had not even opened the file to read the book when I heard the doorbell. I groaned loudly. Not that I hated visitors, I had just already had enough social interaction for the day. I opened the door and groaned again, inwardly this time. Before me stood Leon, my ex-boyfriend of 2 years. I had promptly ended the relationship shortly after my mother's death, not because I wanted to, but because it was best for me and for him.

"Hi Abs, I've missed you." I cracked a small smile, trying to make it look as authentic as possible. A pregnant pause ensued between us and he licked his lips out of nervousness.

"May I come in?" he gestured towards the door.

"Leon, I don't think it's a good idea. I'm swamped with work and we both know this won't end well." I started to shut the door as I gave him a somber smile.

"Wait Abs. Please. It's been 3 months, I know what happened was hard on you, but I've been with you, by your side, even when you didn't want me to be. I think I deserve a little more credit than you're giving me."

"And I think I deserve more space than you're giving me," I snapped. I shook my head and shut the door. I couldn't deal with Leon drama today. Or any day soon. I sighed and closed my eyes, listening to make sure he actually left. Then I tramped back to my flat, shutting the door, and started reading the book.

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(This chapter has officially been edited.)