Sherlock Holmes and the case of Twisted Love

CHAPTER 2

*one year ago*

IZZY'S POV

"Tea anyone?"

"No thanks"

I don't even like tea.

I swear anyone who sets foot in this apartment is interrogated by tea. John has an obsession. Maybe it's because he wants to make people feel comfortable, something Sherlock fails to do.

Sherlock, what an unusual man. I've known him for three years now and still don't understand him. He calls himself a 'high-functioning sociopath' but I really don't know what that means, even after all this time.

Sherlock Holmes. The consulting detective. The man with the funny hat. And his friend, Doctor John Watson. The one who used to be in the army. He's my friend too, but well, relationships are difficult. Sentiment is a disadvantage, a distraction, and here in our world we need to keep our minds focused, our heads clear. Our main priority is the game, and... Moriarty.

Although I really have no idea what's happening with him, about two years ago he blew his own brains out yet a couple of weeks back there was a broadcast on every TV screen in London with him asking if we missed him. God knows me and the boys don't. I know why he's doing it though, just like Sherlock he'll do anything to stop being bored.

But Moriarty's boredom is a a lot different to Sherlock's.

He likes to solve crimes, Sherlock that is, to have a mystery and get to the bottom of it. To find the murderer, kidnapper, criminal, person responsible. He gets way too over excited for some cases which is slightly worrying. He loves serial killers or locked door murders, but he hates casual affairs or anything supernatural, like ghosts, don't get him started on ghosts.
"There's no such thing" he says.
And, Sherlock is very rarely wrong, that's something I've grown to learn. I figured that out the first time I met him.

I was on a case, when I met Sherlock, I'm a forensic scientist you see. Someone who visits a crime scene to collect and analyse scientific evidence. I was only there for about ten minutes before Sherlock and John arrived. John, being the more human of the pair, introduced himself and we got chatting right away. He then proceeded to introduce me to Sherlock and we got on like a house on fire and therefore stayed in touch.

He then started to request that I work on some of the cases with them, a nice alternative to Anderson, and eventually we started working together as a trio. I now go to every crime scene with him and John and I have found myself spending more and more time with them. I even live in the flat above them now. I'm not complaining, I love the thrill of the chase, the constant threat and danger.
But maybe I'm too involved. Not so much with the work... but with Sherlock.

He's just so adorable with his perfectly sculptured face and that smirk he does when he knows the answer and no one else has a clue.
However, anyone who has ever met him will know he is brutally honest with everything. But, I always feel like he's different around me, John's noticed it too. He's told me Sherlock has changed since I became a bigger part of his life, and hopefully for the better. I just hope to God that Sherlock doesn't realise I have a crush on him. Who am I kidding? He's the single most smartest man I know - of course he knows about me, he has to. Oh God I'm so stupid...

John yelling at Sherlock shook me out of my thoughts.

"Sherlock! I've asked you three times now, do. you. want. any -"

"John. Shut up! I'm onto something"

"Unbelievable. That's what you are, you're bloody-"

"John!"

After being yelled at for no good reason, John walked away muttering insults under his breath.

"You should really appreciate John more you know" I told Sherlock matter-of-factly.
He stays quiet after my comment.

"One day he might just get up and-"

"He's loud"

"Honestly Sherlock, you're so dramatic"

I watched his brows furrow and his mouth open to protest. But before he could speak my phone rang. I looked down at the caller ID:

'Harps ❤'

"Harper?" I muttered to myself
I got up and walked into another room for some privacy.

That's when realisation kicked in and I answered the phone immediately yelling her name down the line.

Our conversation lasted at least twenty minutes and she was only asking me to pick her up from the station, friends aye?

John had made his way back into the living room of 221B and was sat in his usual seat by the time I had ended the call and in unison they asked:

"Who's Harper?"