The Unsolved Case Of Love | Sherlock.

Chapter Eight.

Sherlock was sat in 221B Baker Street, with his dressing gown rapped around him with a pair of pajama trousers, a top that was inside out, and his hair was messy. He was curled up in his black leather chair.

Alone.

Doing something he never thought he would. Well, never again.

He's watching television.

No, not the good stuff, like Doctor Who, or Poirot, or even Miss Marple.

This was the shit stuff. The afternoon telly. Nothing good enough to actually engage with.

He was bored as hell, he thought Y/N would have been here, or John. But the only person who came was Mrs Hudson.

With the tea, then left.

If Sherlock were being honest, then he'd say he rather missed the company of his two, well, friends.

"MRS HUDSON?!" He called.

No reply.

"MRS HUDSON!!" He yelled.

He become impatient, but was too lazy to move. So he shouted once again.

"MRS. HUDSON!" He shouted.

Still no reply. He could tell someone was down there, but why on earth wouldn't she answer.

Instead of shouting, or yelling, or calling, again, he decided to get up and walk down to her flat. He swung the door open and saw her sat with Y/N and John.

"Sherlock!" She shook her head. "I thought you would have been dressed by now!"

"No," He paused. He looked at his two friends, he went to say something, but stopped himself. "No."

"Hey Sherlock." Y/N smiled. She had a cup and saucer in her hands. John was the same.

"Y/N." He acknowledged her. "John."

"Sherlock." John gave a small pathetic excuse of a smile.

"Why are you here?" Sherlock asked.

"Greet your friends nicer Sherlock, they are here for you. I thought you were asleep." Mrs Hudson got up and freed the seat for Sherlock.

"We went and met Sebastian Moran."

Sherlock didn't say anything. He just looked at them. He took a biscuit from the tray and sat down next them. He took a bite and carried on looking emotionless.

John and Y/N gave each other a look. They then carried on.

"He was just like they say."

"And?" Sherlock asked.

"I definitely think Moriarty is back."

"Y/N knows he is." Sherlock replied.

John's head shot towards Y/N. He looked shocked.

"Excuse me?" John asked.

Y/N tried and looked as confused as he did, she had gone in for a sip of tea, but tried not to spit it out.

"Oh, come on. Surely your still not that slow." Sherlock said.

"I'm not slow, I'm just not a bloody genius." John yelled.

"She knows he's back."

"Do I?" Y/N asked.

Sherlock clearly didn't look impressed.

"OK, yes I do. He told me not to tell you guys." Y/N said in her defense.

"Or what? He'd kill you?!" John shouted.