Sherlock Imagine-Just Friends (Book 1)

Part 3

You stood at the table that held the protective gear inside the empty house. Another suicide, but this time, there was a note. Sherlock was to arrive at any second to examine the crime scene.

"Freak's here. I'm bringing him in." Donovan said over the walkie-talkie.

Lestrade turned to you. "You're coming with us, alright?" he said.

You nodded and turned to the table. You snapped the plastic gloves over your hands as Sherlock stepped inside.

"Where is the body?" Sherlock asked.

"Upstairs." you replied. You could tell by the sound of his voice that he was in his "deduction mode" as you called it. It was when he was blind to the world around him and completely consumed with his work. He spared no ounce of thought for anyone, not even you, his closest friend. But you were okay with it. It kept him from the drugs. You were actually the one that suggested that he go into some kind of detective work. You could see how much he loved it, and you loved seeing him happy.

You looked up at him.

"Y/n, this is my colleague, John-" you looked at his companion before he finished his sentence.

"John?" you exclaimed. There he was, your brother, John Watson, standing next to your best friend Sherlock Holmes. You never really spoke about Sherlock to John so seeing him here was quite a surprise.

"Oh! You two know each other? How?" Sherlock asked.

"You're the greatest detective in the world. Why don't you figure it out?" you mocked.

Sherlock looked at you, then back at John. He looked at you with his eyes slightly squinted. "Siblings?" he asked.

"Yea." you said, wondering why it took him that long to put two and two together.

He lightly nodded his head with his lips pursed. Lestrade began the trek up the stairs to the crime scene and a slightly embarrassed Sherlock Holmes followed behind. You and John walked up side by side.

"How long have you known Sherlock?" you asked your brother.

"I-I just met him yesterday." he answered.

"And you're already colleagues? That's not like you John." you said.

"I know. We're already flat mates too." he said.

"Seriously?" you asked in disbelief.

He nodded his head. "How long have you known him?" your brother asked.

"Uh- five years now." you answered.

"Really? You never mentioned him to me." he remarked.

"Never felt that I had to." you replied.

"Alright then." John said, still confused as to how he got caught up in all of this.

Greg pushed the door open and the pink covered dead body of Jenifer Wilson laid motionless in the middle of the room. Sherlock immediately began to examine the body and make deductions with out moving from his spot. He turned his head to the side.

"Shut up." he told Lestrade.

"But I haven't said any-" Greg defended himself.

"You were thinking. It's annoying." Sherlock mumbled, then continued his work.

John looked at you with even more confusion on his face. You looked back at him and gave him a look that said "he's always like that."

You continued to watch Sherlock as he examined the body more closely. There was something about him that made you feel attracted to him. Maybe it was his smooth movements as he found information and put together the pieces of what might have happened to the victim lying on the floor. Or maybe it was how he seemed to know a person's whole life by just looking at them. Or maybe it was just him. You knew how rude and cold he could be, but you could see that, under all of his arrogance and pride, there was someone who longed to be accepted by another person for who he was. You thought that maybe he found that in you, because after everything he's said about you that others would find offensive, you stuck by his side. You knew he didn't mean to be rude, so you would act as though he wasn't. But you would still try to guide him and help him with what was socially acceptable to say and what wasn't. Even though you had been helping him for the past five years, you knew you still had more work to do.