Sherlock: Lover Mine [Book II]

The Storm {Susanna}

I thank the Pharmacist and pay for the new prescriptions before walking out to my bike with a sigh. Doctor McAdams gave me the bad news that the prescription medication that I've taken for years to manage my migraines is being taken off the market. It's a huge blow because I went through several other meds that didn't work well for me before I found it, and now I have to go through the same process to see if I can find a new drug that will help without making me sick and fatigued.

It doesn't help that the dosage for the meds also increased, so whatever happens it's not going to be small.

I get off the bike and secure it outside 221 before heading inside with the bag of prescriptions tucked in my purse. Missus H and Rosie are in the former's kitchen making muffins, so I give them a quick hello before heading up to 221B. John's at surgery and Sherlock's at New Scotland Yard, so I drop my stuff on the sofa and take one of the pill bottles to the bathroom, grabbing a cup of water on the way.

I take two pills, per instructions, and wash them down with water before returning to the living room and sitting in Sherlock's chair with my phone and a book.

In about an hour I feel a wave of fatigue overcome my body and I sluggishly curl up in the chair, "Great..," I can't even keep my eyes on my book anymore. My head feels foggy and sore. An achy sensation trails from my head to my feet and I groan, "Nope. This is not going to work..."

Sherlock bounds into the living room and stops when he sees the state I'm in. He walks over and kneels, "Are you alright, Love? Did the appointment go poorly? What's got you like this?"

I groan and explain what all happened and why I'm folded over in his chair, feeling like I've been hit by a bus. Sherlock frowns, "So you have to try three different medications before you are considered eligible for the newer drug?"

"Yes. And the one I took an hour ago is definitely not working for me."

"Would you like some tea?" I shake my head.

"No thank you. I'm not sure I could keep it down at the moment." He nods and strokes my cheek.

"I've got a few experiments to run. Stay here as long as you need, Love."

"Thanks, Sherlock." He kisses my forehead and takes off his coat, draping it over and tucking it in around me. I smile weakly and he retreats to the kitchen.

Another half hour later I start to smell something that instantly raises the hair on the back of my neck. I sit up, wide eyed, and take a slow breath. Sherlock doesn't quite look at me but he notices, "What is it, Susanna?"

"Gas."

"What?"

"Gas. GAS, Sherlock. As it the kind that comes in through the pipes and is used by the stove and oven? I can smell it. Is the stove on?" He furrows his brows and looks up from his microscope.

"No. The medication might be affecting your senses though. I don't smell any gas."

I shake my head, "Sherlock, my danger antennae are on and I can smell the gas. If it's not coming from the stove..," Sherlock freezes, "Where is it coming from!?"

"I don't know," He gets up, "Stay." He hurries downstairs to check on Missus Hudson and Rosie. The smell gets too strong to be imagined so I get up and try and find the source myself.

I go into the kitchen first and recheck the oven and stove top. Then I pull it back and gasp. Found it.

The pipe that supplies the gas to the stove has been severed and has been slowly pumping out the flammable substance for at least two hours. Not only that, but there's a tiny detonator on a countdown. No!

Sherlock races back in and finds me fighting a wave of nausea from the smell while trying to reach behind the oven, "What are you doing?!"

"Back here, Sherlock," I cough and back up for him. He switches places with me and goes pale before pulling me away and grabbing his phone, "Darling?"

"Shh," He puts his cell to his ear, "Lestrade? I need you here. I believe that the arsonists broke into 221B... The gas line is leaking and there is a remote detonator... Susanna smelled it and figured out the source, yes... Fine-"

I hear the detonator click and grab Sherlock, pulling him around the corner as a spark ignites the gas.

BOOM!!!!

The explosion shakes the flat, setting off smaller ones from Sherlock's experiments and subsequent shocks from the gas pipe. Sherlock pushes me to the floor and covers me, "Yes, Lestrade, we're going to need a fire engine!! It just detonated!... Probably..."

"Sherlock..." I moan. The room spins and the nausea hits harder than before.

"What, Susanna?"

I drop all the way to the floor and heave, "S-Sick..."

"Lestrade! Hurry!" He hangs up and slides his arms under me, picking me up and carrying me downstairs and outside. Missus Hudson has Rosie safely outside and the cafe has been evacuated. A second, though smaller, explosion hits as we clear the building.

I can't quite process the blur of events that comes next. The Yard arrives and Sherlock has the ambulance crew check me over as fire and bomb teams head into the flat.

Sherlock gathers Rosie and Missus Hudson to the ambulance where the E.M.T.s are watching me closely and standing by. The detective himself stays near Lestrade and the flat entrance. I've got an orange shock blanket over my shoulders and a sick bag in hand, in case the nausea rears its ugly head. John shows up as the scene is declared secure. It finally sinks in.

221B was just attacked by the arsonists... This is a strike at Sherlock.

Thank you for reading!