Consulting Pineapples (Psychlock)

Chapter Two--Sherlock

“Skip the date, you’re coming with me,” Sherlock said in a monotone without looking up from his violin as John walked in.

    “Who says I have a- Sherlock, there’s a leg on the counter.” John pulled on his coat.

    Sherlock made a small mmmhm sound and didn’t elaborate, setting his instrument on the chair gently. “Judging by your walking pace, it’s someone new.”

    John narrowed his eyes and picked up his phone, checking the time. “I’m late. Don’t wait up. And clear off the leg.”

    Sherlock finally looked over at John, before pulling on his own coat. “From what I can tell in Lestrade’s late arrival time at work, someone important died.”

    John furrowed his eyebrows and walked down the stairs two at a time, calling, “How do you even know what time Lestrade arrived at work? You’ve been here all day!”

    The detective put on his scarf and walked out, catching up to John easily and hailing a cab. “I’m going to see Lestrade.”

    John rolled his eyes. “Good for you. Wish me luck.”

    Sherlock got into the cab, pulling up his coat collar and staring straight ahead, glancing at John for a split second as he spoke. “Scotland Yard, please.”

   John shook his head, looking around the busy street, then finally got into the cab and shut the door, sighing and sending an apology text to his date.

   The cab arrived a few minutes later, and the ex-army doctor climbed out quickly, slamming his door. “Why are we here?”

   Sherlock didn’t say a word, striding into the large building twice as fast as John and texting someone while pushing past Sargeant Donovan’s usual snide remark. John apologised to her as a reflex, even though it made Sherlock glare.

    John followed his friend to the Detective Inspector’s office, pausing outside when he saw Lestrade on the phone. Sherlock gave no heed and barged in. “Frederick Gardner. The uncle with the ridiculous sideburns.”

    Lestrade hushed him and kept talking on the phone. Sherlock went mostly quiet, as if trying to listen too.

    John walked in, shutting the door. “Sherlock, what are we doing-”

   “No, no, NO! He’s American!” Sherlock suddenly burst out, glaring at Lestrade.”Don’t get an American detective, they ruin everything!”

    Lestrade covered the mouthpiece, speaking softly and furiously. “Sherlock, shut up, this isn’t a business call.”

    The consulting detective rolled his eyes. “No, of course not, don’t be ridiculous, it’s quite personal. Going by the bags under your slightly red eyes and the coffee stains still on your shirt, someone died. Is it a murder? No, because you KNOW I can handle any simple murder case, Therefore, someone close to both you and the American died, and you’re inviting him to the funeral, which will be held next week. Now, please do not let this man interfere with my cases and remember, Frederick Gardner.” Sherlock spun on his heel, stalking out and leaving an annoyed Lestrade and exasperated John behind.