Anthology - A Collection of Fanfic One-Shots

I Believe - a Sherlock mini-fic, Part 2

Authors' note: The next instalment of our Sherlock story, as requested by our loyal and intrepid follower, wingedmonkey28. Enjoy!

The next day, as John and Sherlock were enjoying a cup of tea and a biscuit and listening to Mrs Hudson once again asserting that she was 'not your housekeeper, dear' as she straightened a few things in the kitchen, a car door was heard to slam, closely followed by a noisy closing of the front door and heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. Both turned as Lestrade burst through, short of breath.

"You said you hadn't talked to Molly since seeing her at the lab three days before she was attacked," he said to Sherlock.

"Yeees," Holmes drew out the word in a bored manner.

"Then how do you explain there being eight text messages between you and Molly on her phone on those days?"

"That's impossible."

"Really." Lestrade all but shoved a mobile phone under Holmes' nose, open to the messages app and showing, as claimed, exchanges purportedly between Sherlock and Molly. The main gist of them was to do with meeting and secrecy. "Can I see your phone, please Sherlock?"

"No, you can't."

"Why not?"

"I lost it. A week ago."

"Well, that's convenient. How does the great Sherlock Holmes misplace his mobile?"

Sherlock merely shrugged and continued sipping his tea, his face inscrutable. "Have you searched Molly's flat?" he eventually asked.

"Of course," came the reply. "Didn't find anything though."

Sherlock put down his cup and leapt off the couch, strode across the room to throw on his coat, then breezed down the stairs and out to the street to hail a taxi. Sighing, John and Greg followed him.

"The place was ransacked, obviously, but we've no idea why, or what they might have been looking for," Greg said, surveying the chaos that was Molly's flat.

"Nope," Sherlock said, deadpan.

"It's a disaster in here. Someone did this when they took her."

"No. Look there, empty mugs on the coffee table, a hammer and screwdriver on the floor next to the telly. She's got a pile of laundry on the kitchen table and a hairbrush next to the kitchen sink. This is what her flat always looks like. Molly's a bit of a slob."

John huffed out his breath, muttering, "Not unlike someone else I know."

"Is there anything to go on then?" Greg queried.

Sherlock brushed past the detective inspector and started nosing around, looking for anything among the clutter that would give him a clue. When they moved to the bedroom he searched the dresser while John looked under the very feminine floral bedcover. As he lifted one of the pillows to look underneath, an object fell out of the pillowcase. "Sherlock..." he whispered, retrieving the object from the floor.

Sherlock turned to look, as did Lestrade. "What is it?"

John gave an almost apologetic look as he handed the item to the detective inspector. "It's your phone," he said.

---

On Thursday, John and Sherlock's quiet morning was interrupted once again by the arrival of Lestrade, this time with three other police officers in attendance. "Sherlock, I need you to accompany me to the station for questioning."