Extraordinary

III

"So were there any other witnesses?" John asked Lestrade.

Lestrade flipped through the report.

"Erm..the next door neighbor reported weird noises, that's what made us investigate..." He fished.
"Good. Address?" Sherlock rudely cut in.
"Wait, will you take Rebekah with you? She's been here for five hours, staring at her fathers corpse. Get her some fresh air, won't you?" Lestrade pleaded of the boys.
"We're not babysitters." Sherlock retorted, flipping his collar up.
"You're being dramatic, Sherlock." John sighed. "We'd be happy to take her out for a few hours."
"Thanks." Lestrade said, relieved.

---

"Knock knock."

A dark skinned woman with frizzy blue hair answered.

"Hello? Can I help you?" She asked.
"Hi. We're um, with the police. Investigating the murder that took place last night. Could we talk to you?" John informed the woman.
"Um, I suppose." She replied suspiciously.

The trio entered and the woman headed to the kitchen.
"Tea, boys?" She asked
"Yes, please." John said.
Sherlock didn't even hear the woman.

John tapped Rebekah's shoulder and she turned to him.
"Tea?" He asked, making sure to enunciate the word.
Rebekah nodded. "Ginger please." She requested quietly, almost silently.
"Um, ma'am? Can Rebekah have some too?" John added.
"Yeah." The woman called from the kitchen.
"You know, we never did get your name, ma'am."
"It's Dinah Leading.."
"Well it's nice to meet you Miss Lea - wow that's an unfortunate title..." John chuckled.
"Just call me Dinah then."

The whistle of a teapot was heard, and Dinah came out with cups of tea.

"The tea isn't steeped yet, but I brought out some biscuits." She informed, seating herself on a plush purple chair.

She glanced up at trio, all of which were still standing.

"You can sit, y'know." Dinah chuckled.

John and Rebekah turned and sat on the old, greyish couch. Sherlock remained standing, steepling quietly in thought. Rebekah took one of the biscuits and bit into it, the loud crunch breaking the silence.

"So are you going to interrogate me, or...?" Dinah prodded.
"Just one moment." John assured.
"Right. So." Sherlock started.
"Told you." John muttered.
"Your'e relatively young to be living on your own..college student living off campus. A line on your ring there, used to be a ring there...class ring perhaps? Too young for a wedding ring. Dyed hair symbolizes either creative spirit or you hate your heritage. Probably creative though, you have paint splatters on your clothes. So a creative major, most likely art." Sherlock deduced monotonously.

Dinah looked indignant.

  "Oi, that's rather rude you know." She snapped, pinching Sherlock's ear as though he were a naughty child.
"Ouch, let me you madwoman!" Sherlock grumbled, squirming away from the infuriated woman.

Dinah smirked as Sherlock sulked. Johns cell started beeping again, and he left the room to answer it. Moments later, he returned.

"Sherlock, Rebekah, we need to go, Lestrade says there's been a development in the Reid case." He explained hurriedly.

He extended a hand to Rebekah as Sherlock straightened his coat. Rebekah accepted his hand and stood, looking mildly confused.

"Sorry for our sudden departure, Dinah. Perhaps we can discuss the details over tea sometime?" John offered.
"I'm free on Thursday..." Dinah absentmindedly told them.
"Sounds lovely. I'll see you at four, 221 Baker Street, Thursday."

---

"Okay, so the development."

Lestrade started speaking the moment the trio walked into his office. His exasperation was evident in his ruffled hair and papers.

"The attacker has left fingerprints on Reid's body, identifying her. But we realized-- Rebekah was there. So why not ask her? She's deaf. So we brought in someone to help Rebekah learn some basic sign language." Lestrade finished triumphantly.
"That's incredibly stupid." Sherlock said bluntly.

Lestrade looked over to him, devastated.

"What? Why?"
"Because none of us know sign language." Sherlock stated, as though it should be obvious.

Lestrade smirked and John paled.

"I've signed you boys up as well." He admitted slyly.
"What?" Sherlock spluttered. "Why are you so insistent on us babysitting her?"
"Because, Sherlock. Her mother is always working, no one in the office can look after her, and she's kind of an invalid right now. Have a little decency." Lestrade spat.
"No." Came the short reply, and Sherlock left.