What's this??? Two chapters in a day?! *gasp*
Don't thank me yet. You should read the chapter first.
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Nine
John
I could have sworn I saw Sherlock walking by Baker Street today. I looked out the window and saw a tall man with dark curls walking by, but he was wearing jeans—jeans for christ sakes. Sherlock would never wear jeans. I don't think he even owns a pair of jeans.
I tell Mrs. Hudson I'm going to take a walk to clear my head and take the long way to Lauriston Gardens, the first crime scene I went to.
I'd seen plenty of dead people before in the army, but this was different. This time no one knew how the person died. They weren't just stuck in the line of fire.
It was different because I had Sherlock by my side.
I look up at the house, feeling small as it looms over me, casting a shadow from the setting sun.
I walk across town to 22 Northumberland Street. I go into the restaurant across the street. Angelo is at one of the tables, taking someone's order.
He turns and looks surprised when he sees me. "John!"
I smile and nod.
"I didn't expect to see you here. You know, after what happened . . ."
When I don't say anything, Angelo claps his hands and rubs them together like he just came up with some evil plan. "What can I do for you?"
"I came here for dinner," I lie.
He squints and I wonder if he can tell I already ate, but then he smiles and motions to the mostly empty restaurant. "You can sit anywhere you'd like. Dinner is on the house."
I open my mouth to protest but Angelo holds his hand up. "Please, I insist."
I give in and not, scanning the room even though I already know where I want to sit.
Angelo hands me a menu as I sit at the table—the one Sherlock and I sat at with the large picture window.
I look out the window at 22 Northumberland Street and sigh.
When Angelo comes back I order pasta, the same thing I got last time, and roll a straw wrapper between my thumb and forefinger while I wait for my food.
I look back out the window and see someone leaning against a streetlamp across the street.
Angelo places a steaming bowl of pasta on the table in front of me and I thank him. When I look back out the window, the figure is gone.
Author's note:
Do you think John would've seen Sherlock at Lauriston Gardens if he hadn't taken the long way?
Tell me what you thought of chapters eight and nine in the comments, I want to hear what you have to say about it :)
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