Not Everyone Needs A Title

Chapter 12

Sherlock is about 23 or so

Sherlock hadn't gone to the morgue for some time now. So when Mike showed up he was fairly surprised.

"I have a friend who needs a flat. And you need a flatmate. Do you think you could help a fellow out?"

"I must be a hard man to find a flatmate for."

Mike laughs and leaves. Sherlock de ides to go to the morgue and work. He had befriended the girl he'd met the first day. Her name was Molly Hooper. She helped him when he needed it. He was sitting at the lab table when Mike came in with a man in his 30s but his hair was greying.

"Mike I need to use your phone mine doesn't have service."

"What's wrong with the landline?"

"I prefer to text."

"Here. You can use mine."

Sherlock deduced the man and stands to take his phone.

"Afghanistan or Iraq"

"Sorry?"

"Afghanistan or Iraq?"

°°°

Sherlock and John are on their first case together. John couldn't believe he was doing this. Sherlock ran around like he was enjoying it.

"Why are you here?" Demands a woman with dark hair

"I was invited"

"Who's he?"

"He's with me"

"Who is he?"

"With me"

"Freaks here, bringing him in" she says into a walki-talki.

They walk in the building. Four deaths and finally a note. He examines the body.

"Left handed, unhappily married, came from Cardiff, smart, she was only planning to stay in London for one day based on the size of her case. where is it? her case where is it, what did you do with it?"

"there was no case"

"Of course there's a case look at the splash pattern on the leg. The killer must have it. Find the case find the killer."Sherlock runs down the stairs still talking

°°°

"Is that the case then?" John asks as he enters the flat

"yes."

"and you have it"

"yes. oh and by the way i'm not the killer."

"do people usually assume you're the killer?"

"sometimes."

°°°

Sherlock was sitting in front of the killer. he was a cabbie. Sherlock mentally face palmed. he had been so close but not at all right. The man offered two bottles with pills in them. One would kill him the other would have no effect. or so he was told. he studied both bottles and made a decision.

"neither of them will kill me. Because you poisoned the water you gave the victims not the pills. dry swallow your own ensured you always survive. Now it't my turn. Who hired you?" Sherlock says

"i ain't tellin"

Sherlock took both pill bottles and switched them around so that the cabbie wouldn't know which was which.

"if i am correct then choose one." Sherlock sets the pills in front of the cabbie.

if the man hesitated than Sherlock would be wrong but if he didn't, Sherlock would be right.

"Ill take the other one." he offers

the cabbie take the one closest after hesitating only a second

"Same time then?" he asks

Sherlock nods and raises the pill to his mouth. but before he can take it a shot rings out hitting the cabbie. He looks to see a window with a hole in it but went back to the cabbie.

"who do you work for?" he demands

The cabbie shakes his head. Sherlock steps on his shoulder where the bullet was

"Moriarty" he shouts

Sherlock steps back. He didn't know who Moriarty was but he was smart and powerful. He went back out to meet John and the Scotland Yard.

"are you alright then?" John asks

"Nice shot"