LIKE SUN AND MOON | Sherlock x Fictional Character

8 - Bored!

Another boring day. Why are people so lazy to sit at home instead of going out and murdering someone? Life would be more beautiful.

Sherlock sat at his desk, looking through the submissions on his blog. Boring...

He was simultaneously watching Amber rather carefully. She was sitting in John's chair with her legs curled up, reading a book. Why does she always sit with her legs on? Could it mean anything...?

'Fire.'

She held her breath. Did he guess it?

'Your parents died in a fire.'

She got up her eyes from the book and stared at him, praying that no emotion could be seen on her face.

'Yes.'

'And you were with them when it happened.'

'They saved me. My sister wasn't there...'

She looked back down at the book again, hiding the look on her face from him.

'Is it a reason why you don't get along?'

Amber nodded, fearing her voice would refuse to obey her.

'And you're probably afraid of fire now?'

'Anything else, doctor?' Now she was irritated.

'I simply wanted to know.' He focused on the laptop again. Still no new submissions. ...

Suddenly he closed his laptop in a rapid motion and stood up. He walked up to the fireplace and for a while looked at the skull lying on it as if to force her to start talking.

However, he did not succeed. He turned away from the fireplace and put his hands on his hips looking at the opposite wall.

Amber gave him a furtive look. Sherlock was wearing his plum robe and black shirt which combined with bare feet and suit pants looked at least ridiculous, but she didn't say it out loud, preferring not to annoy him. He was in a bad mood anyway.

Sherlock walked up to the wall and stood there for a long time.

'I disagree.' He said after a while and, taking the gun out of his dressing gown pocket, fired two shots straight into the left and right eye of the smiling face. Amber didn't even flinch.

'How many times have I told you not to shoot at my wall!' Mrs. Hudson shouted from below, but Sherlock ignored her.

'I'm bored!' He now threw himself on the couch.

He stayed there for a good half an hour, but when the sun began to shine directly in his eyes, he sprang from it and stood on his desk, stomping on the piles of papers on it.

'I need a case!' He repeated, but Amber still did not look up from the book. 'Or something!'

He now sat down on the desk, knocking his phone off of it. He did not care about it, staring intensely into space.

Amber turned over the page in her book not even looking in his direction. She knew very well how her behavior was irritating Holmes.

The detective stood up again, more and more irritated, and went to the fireplace, then reached for a pack of cigarettes hidden behind the picture, but his hand reached nothing. The cigarettes were not there. He looked angrily at Amber, but she still was paying no attention to him. He sat in his chair and reached for his violin.

'Okay, that's enough.' Amber closed the book. 'We can play something.'

Sherlock's eyes lit up.

***

'You lost.'

Sherlock moved his pawn across the chessboard, looking at Amber and waiting for her reaction. Although they moved only three figures, the detective already knew all possible combinations and there was a ninety-three percent probability that he would win.

However, he wasn't the only one who could play and calculate...

'Not if-' She moved her bishop. '-I will do like so. Now whatever you decide to do, you lose.'

She smiled, seeing the surprise on his face, and a moment later a kind of satisfaction.

'Bravo.' He said, to her (and his) surprise quite frankly.

She blushed slightly.

'Rematch?'

But at that moment, Sherlock's phone rang. The detective frantically looked for him until he discovered him in a pile of papers next to his desk. He looked at Amber with a smile.

He got up and did, a surprisingly very graceful, pirouette in the middle of the living. Amber couldn't help but laugh, rolling her eyes.

But she was happy about the new case, too. They haven't had anything interesting in weeks! She was hoping it would be a good one.

***

A rather thick woman was hung upside down a hundred meters above the ground on a crane, right next to the office building of a big company. She had been dead for less than an hour, as the police doctor established once they dragged her to the ground.

Sherlock looked at the body carefully. She died being hit with something heavy to the back of her head. But first, she was kidnapped and put to sleep. All her clothes (a chic jacket and trousers set - journalist) were painted with white paint. Just why...?

He felt someone's eyes on him and saw Amber standing next to him.

Why her?

I don't know yet...

Amber also examined the woman. Young. Unmarried. Smokes. Runs often. She was going to an important meeting, her nails were painted with white polish. Did she get that watch from her boss?

Amber tilted her head. She now noticed the dead woman was holding something in her hand. She carefully removed a small chess piece from between her stiff fingers. Sherlock leaned over as she unfolded a small piece of paper hidden in the figure:

"Playing a game is the best solution to get boredom. Will you play with me, Sherlock Holmes? Your move now."

'This just become interesting.'