Vampire on Baker street ( A Sherlock fan-fiction)

Ch.3: "Like a clone?"

Chapter 3:

We eventually leave the crime scene and catch a cab back to Baker street where we continue to try and solve the ripper case.

Weeks go by and Sherlock takes on smaller cases while awaiting for the murderer to make his move. I have been going out at night by myself to track the killer, but I have had no such luck.

I am currently lounging in Sherlock's chair watching tv, when the man himself walks in through the door.

He walks to his room and soon coms out dressed in his pajamas and robe. He stands in front of me and stares, as though expecting me to move.

I slowly slide my gaze toward him and smile,"Hi, Sherlock. How did your visit with your brother go?"

He narrows his eyes,"How did you know I was with my brother?" he pauses,"...How do you know I have a brother?"

I let out a laugh as I turn my attention back to the television,"I've known Mycroft for some years," I reveal,"And I know you were with him by his scent, the dirt and dust on your shoes which is usually at the warehouse where his office is, and the smell of smoke on your clothing as your brother usually stresses you out enough to make you have a cigarette."

He is silent for a couple of moments before walking over to sit straight-backed in John's chair. "Scent? How could you possibly smell my brother on me? He wears no harsh cologne."

I let out a annoyed sigh and look at him,"Everyone has a certain scent. It is quite easy to pick up once you know which scent belongs to whom."

"Yes, I can imagine. But no human can do so," he presses on.

I send him a smirk,"Then maybe I'm not human."

He glowers at me,"Enough riddles! During the time I have known you, you have possessed traits that no human can have. How do you do it?" he questions.

I let out a sigh and get up. Walking over to him, I lean down to his level,"You wouldn't believe me even if I told you," I tell him softly, then look at the floor,"Most do not. And if they do, I am rarely welcomed."

After a moment of silence, I feel Sherlock grasp my hand. I stare at him oddly, wondering what has brought this upon him.

"People do not accept you because you are different," he murmurs, gazing into my eyes,"I know how it feels."

This caring side of Sherlock has caught me off guard. Maybe I don't know him as well as I thought.

"Your pulse is incredibly fast, and your eyes are dilated," he suddenly says with amusement in his eyes,"Any reason for that?"

I frown and pull my hand away. Way to ruin a moment Sherlock. "If you must know, my heart beat is always like this. Check it when I sleep if you want," I tell him with an eye roll,"And my eyes are like this when I'm hungry."

He suddenly changes the subject,"Where is John? It is quite late."

I walk to the kitchen for my secret stash of blood,"He is entertaining a lady friend in his room. Guess I'm sleeping on the couch."

Sherlock scoffs, moving to his chair and pulling his legs up to his chest,"Why must he constantly look for a partner? He has us."

I walk back into the room with my glass full and stifle a laugh,"Sorry to break it to you Sherlock, but most people need more than just friends."

He rolls his eyes,"I was fine without friends. Why does he need something more?"

I sit in John's chair,"Most people need someone they can be close to and be totally honest with. To rely on each other and have a connection that they cannot have with just a friend," I explain.