Sherlock got up from his bed and walked towards the kitchen to make some coffee. John isn't crashed on the floor anymore. Maybe in the shower or something, he thought. Sherlock found a nice spot on the couch and settled down. Peace and quiet.
Not long after John came out of the shower with a robe wrapped around him, damp hair, a towel in one hand and his cell phone in the other.
"Lestrade called me. He said that he tried to reach you about three timesand that you were late. He's waiting for you at St. Bart's." He said with a confused look on his face. Sherlock checked the clock on the stove. 10:30am. Shit.
"That's right. Later John." Sherlock dashed out of the flat in only a sheet.
"Are you going to put any trousers on, dear?" Mrs. Hudson called out from her flat.
"I have no time." Sherlock replied. He waved a cab outside and made his way to St. Bart's.
---
The cab arrived at the hospital and Sherlock entered which made many heads turn. Some people were saying "hey sexy" or "put some clothes on." and even, "do you have any shame?" But Sherlock, just as he is, he doesn't care. Thankfully Lestrade was waiting for him down the hallway.
"She's right in there," He pointed to the door that hewas leaning on, "The girl is still sleeping but she's alive and well. Be happy that you saved someone's life. I know that's not any of your specialties."
Lestrade opened the door and the both men walked in. Sherlock didn't noticed that she was good looking. By that, she has very good genes. Clear skin, black hair (obviously dyed), and she's very petite.
"So, what can you deduce about her?" Lestrade said.
Sherlock open his mouth and began the deductions, "Young woman, mid or late twenties. Not from UK. American. How do I know? The English aren't this tan. Her's tan if very natural. So she lives in a state where there are beaches. California or Florida? That's what I'm wondering. Well, if I go into her purse," Sherlock reached into the girl's purse and pulled out her wallet and then her ID card. "she's from Florida and her name is Ariana Tinsley."
"Okay Sherlock, no need to be cocky." Lestrade rolled his eyes, "Are you wearing any pants?"
"No. Do you want to find out more?" Before Lestrade could open his mouth, Sherlock deduced again. "Her hair, not her natural colour." He grabbed a fistful of the girl's hair and sniffed it, "Freshly dyed. I say about a few days ago, maybe a week."
"Are you done?" Sherlock heard a feminine voice behind him. He turned around to see Ariana wide awake, "my turn." She said.
"Your turn. With what?"
"You were the man that saved me last night. I'm very good with detuctions too." Ariana replied. She held out her hand to greet Sherlock.
"Sherlock Holmes." Sherlock greeted himself, shaking her hand. Lestrade was right behind him.
"Detective Inspector Lestrade. You can call me Lestrade though." Shaking Ariana's hand.
"So. Are you ready?" Ariana asked Sherlock. He knodded. "Middle aged man, early or mid thirties. Dark circles under your eyes, you don't get much sleep but I'm guessing that you slept more than you usually do last night. You do a lot of thinking too, don't you Mr. Holmes. You have a long history with drugs, cocaine that is, judging by the scar on your nose. You also you quit cigarettes a while ago too but you miss it so you use nicotine patches. How do I know? Sticky residue on your wrist. Three patches. A three patch problem. It can't be stickers unless you have children and I can tell that you don't have any kids. Nor bandages because there are no signs of wounds or scrapes. You also have a flatmate. Am I right?"
