You See But Do Not Observe

IDIOT

CHAPTER THREE : IDIOT

They were in the taxi on the way to Scotland Yard when John finally broke the silence.

"You know Mrs. Hudson is upset. She only just had the other holes filled in." He said.

"Add it to the bill." Sherlock said dismissively.

"We don't have money." John said.

"I'll pay for the case." Serena offered.

"I don't take money for my cases." Sherlock said.

"But, if you need it..." Serena said.

"Don't try to argue with him. He's impossible." John told Serena.

"I take offense to that. The moment you present an argument you are correct on, I'll concede."

John snorted. "You'll never enter into an argument if you think you're wrong, Sherlock!"

Serena really wanted to ask the question burning at the back of her mind since she met the pair. "Are you two a couple?" She asked.

"No!" John said fervently, and Serena got the feeling he was offended. Sherlock didn't seem to care.

"It's okay if..."

"We're not a couple." John said again.

There was a long silence where no one, not even the cabbie, spoke.

"So...why'd you choose London?" John asked, and Sherlock scoffed.

"Sherlock!" John hissed, and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"Um," Serena watched him curiously as her walls went up, carefully selecting her words, "I really needed a change of pace. Huge city, lots of new people." The cab stopped and Sherlock got out. Serena breathed an exhale of relief.

"Don't say anything." Sherlock told Serena.

"Okay." She said, and he rushed in.

"Sorry about him." John said apologetically.

"Oh, he's fine. Sorry about the couple thing." She said.

"No trouble." John said, and Serena believed him.

She immediately felt out of place. Sherlock clearly knew his way around. He headed for the elevator and pressed the button for the eleventh floor.

They got out and Sherlock and John walked forward. Serena began to follow but found her path blocked by a hand. She stiffened.

"Hold it. These are private offices." The police officer said.

"She's with me." Sherlock said, and he held eyes with the officer for a few seconds.

"Of course. Go on ahead." The officer said to Serena, who nodded.

"You have a lot of sway here, don't you?" She asked Sherlock.

"Of course." He answered.

"What're you doing here?" A man with graying hair came up, balancing a stack of files.

"Take these." He said to a young woman walking past. She gave him an exasperated glance as she grabbed the paperwork.

"I need the case files for the murders of these two people." Sherlock presented the two photos.

Lestrade immediately glanced around, and Serena stepped into his line of sight. He looked at her briefly, not giving a thing away.

"Ms. Gambles. I didn't expect you to take this to Sherlock." He said coolly.

"I told you, Detective Inspector, I wouldn't stop until I found the key to this case." Serena answered just as coolly. Lestrade's eyes gave away too much. They were questioning, concerned, frustrated. Serena knew Sherlock had noticed.

"I'll give you the files, but those cases are closed." Lestrade stopped a man. "Get me the reports on those two suicides, will you?" The man nodded.

"This is a waste of time." Lestrade said to Serena.

"I'm not willing to accept that." She retorted before she pasted a calm smile on her face. "But I'm grateful for everything you've done already." It was true. She was grateful. But not because he ignored her case.

Lestrade now had a warning written all over his face. He inclined his head in a way that could be a nod. Sherlock glanced between the two of them.

The young man handed Lestrade the folders, and he passed them to Sherlock. He flipped the first open, examining it quickly before moving on to the next. His face contorted into a slightly confused expression.

"What is it?" John asked.

Sherlock snapped shut the folder and met Serena's eyes. "They look like suicides." He said, and Serena's shoulders slumped a fraction of a centimeter.

"But," Sherlock looked at Lestrade, "something doesn't add up."

He began to pace in the small space. Two steps, turn, two steps, turn, it went on and on for minutes. Lestrade still waited. Maybe something didn't add up in his mind either, and he just needed a reason to open the case.

Serena heard a buzz, and Lestrade glanced at his phone. He picked it up.

"Detective Inspector Lestrade here." He said. "Another? I'm on my way."

"Another? Another what?" Sherlock asked.

"Suicide." Lestrade said, and Sherlock's face split into a smile.

"Splendid!" He said, and Serena watched as he walked toward the door. John looked helplessly at his back.

"This happens a lot." He said.

"It's all right."

"He shouldn't be so happy."

"It's all right." Serena insisted. "I knew many people worse than him."

Lestrade began to follow, and a woman joined him. When she passed Sherlock, waiting at the door, Serena heard her say the word, "Freak." She said it casually, like it was his given name, not an insult. She didn't whisper either. Lestrade gave her an uncomfortable glance, but said nothing. Serena felt something akin to hate immediately. But it wasn't hate. Hate was cold, like the Artic, and this was hot. This was anger, pure and simple.

They began to walk out as a group when the woman paused, looking at Serena closely.

"Do I know you?" She asked.

"I brought in this case a week or so ago." Serena said frigidly.

"You're wasting your time on him." The woman jerked her head toward Sherlock, and Serena's hand began to jitter in anger.

"I'm not as easily fooled as some of the police. And the simple fact of the matter is intelligent criminals slip past you every day." Serena told her. The woman looked shocked for a second, but Serena didn't regret it.

She walked alongside Lestrade outside, and he didn't so much give her a disapproving glance. But Serena caught John and Sherlock looking at each other in a way she wasn't sure was silent laughter at the woman's expression, or approval of her minor outburst.