Chapter 1 - Competition

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John's POV

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"Sherlock, have you seen this?" I ask, looking over the top of paper.

He doesn't reply. He's sitting stiffly upright, looking out the window, arms folded, apparently lost in another all-consuming surge of intellectual thought. That, or he's musing on what to say to Mrs. Hudson as means of explanation for the noise last night. He'd got a bit carried away again, caught up in a combination of passion and frustration at a new case he hadn't quite solved, and ended up breaking a glass coffee table, taking a chunk out of the plaster and very nearly cracking his head open.

"Sherlock?" I say, a little more loudly.

He looks over his shoulder, evidently irritated that I've disrupted his thinking process.

"What?" he asks brusquely.

"Have you seen this article? Says there's a new girl on the scene... detective... solving crimes at an unholy rate... sounds a bit like-"

The paper is pulled from my hands.

He scans the article with a deepening frown, a line appearing between his eyebrows as he processes the information.

Millie Shon, the new Holmes?

Millie Shon, 35, is a source of potential rivalry for the famous and so-far unbeatable consultant detective, Sherlock Holmes, who has solved numerous significant crimes for both members of the public and state police. Shon has been efficiently solving crimes for private personnel, most recently, a suspected affair that led to the uncovering of a series of murders (see page 9). "I'm surprised Holmes didn't crack that one first," was the response we received during the interview with Head of the Ministry of Defence, Cameron Walsh. Both Shon and Holmes have not commented on this turning of tables. Continued- page 9...

For a while, I think he's been stunned into silence. He examines the articles again, reading it through for a second time. And then he straightens up.

"John, find me a case. A really good one," he says, carelessly tossing his phone over the table, "We'll give them something to write about."

I sigh, raising my eyebrows. Does this man ever just let things go?

"No John, I don't. I'm not a fan of losing," he says, answering my unspoken question.

"I know that," I murmur, as I scan through his recent cases.

Suddenly, one catches my eye. I slide the phone round to face him, and watch his face light up.

"Oh, this is a good one."

And with that, he climbs over the table, leaving his tea untouched and phone abandoned on the table, grabbing his coat and scarf and slamming out the door. I'm left trailing behind, still grappling with my jacket.

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