Sherlock: His Enigma Called A

The Loaded Question

Sherlock got back up to his feet to confront Creighton but didn't see him near the refrigerator. Adelaide tried to stand as well but he gestured otherwise, "Stay down there, Adelaide."

"But-"

"Stay."

Sherlock knew that Creighton could not have escaped the lab in so short a time. Then he's hiding under the tables. The detective readied his gun and crept around the desk, "Licking your wounds, Mister Lowry? Although I can't say that's recommended with poison. Once it's ingested it's quite hard to expel and down you go."

"You're making me dreadfully late for my flight, Mister Holmes. This has been fun, but it's time for me and Jacob to make our exit." Sherlock pinpointed the voice and knew exactly which table Creighton was hiding behind.

"Unfortunately Mister Powell will not be joining you. Rather, it seems, you will be joining him and missing your flight."

"I don't think so."

"You're cornered."

"Cornered doesn't mean beaten."

"Might as well in your case," They heard commotion outside the lab and Sherlock smirked, "Here's the Yard now, Mister Lowry."

A minute or so later, Scotland Yard officers busted through the door and swarmed the lab. John and Lestrade hurried in and the former beelined for Adelaide who was still pale as a sheet. He knelt down to check her, "Are you all right, Adelaide?" Then he saw Jacob knocked out on the tiles, "He was the poacher?"

"No, just his partner in crime. Mister Creighton Lowry is our poisoning poacher."

"Are you okay, Adelaide?" John asked again. She nodded breathlessly.

"Yeah, I-I'm alright, Doctor Watson."

"And you, Sherlock?"

"Fine, as always, John."

The officers cuffed Creighton and took him out first- sending him by ambulance to the general hospital to have his wounds tended. Jacob was loaded up and sent straight off to be detained. Sherlock suspected that they hadn't seen the last of them, however. Poisoners like them tend to weasel their way out eventually.

Adelaide had stayed curled up on the tiled floor until the foot traffic subsided from the Yard, and then she stood up and went to check on the animals. Sherlock immediately noticed that she was favoring her left foot and ankle after she slipped off her other shoe to walk easier, "John, what would the best treatment be for a soft tissue injury?" He suddenly asked.

"What?"

"Soft Tissue injury- like a sprain."

"Depends on what exactly got sprained. Did you sprain yourself?"

"Of course not. Adelaide seems to have twisted her left ankle, however." John turned to get a good look at Adelaide and nodded.

"Yep, probably a sprain, that."

"And?"

"Just getting it up and iced should do the trick," John replied and eyed his best friend, "Are you...?"

"Am I what, John?"

The blogger chuckled, "You like her, don't you, mate?"

Sherlock blinked a few times, "I do not know what you mean."

"Yes you do. You've got a crush on her, Sherlock."

"Sentiment is a disadvantage-"

"Don't give me that, Sherlock. You just asked about how to treat Adelaide's soft tissue injury and you were watching her all night."

"I was monitoring Jacob."

"Sherlock, it's not the end of the world if you like her and you obviously do."

The detective inhaled and exhaled slowly, "I am not a sentimental man, John."

"Yes you are," Sherlock pressed his lips together and John inhaled, "Look, Sherlock, I've been watching you and Adelaide and I know you've gotten close to her. I don't see why you can't get past the sentiment is a fatal flaw doctrine you always try to use. But I know that somewhere-" He poked at Sherlock's chest, "-In there you do have a heart."

"John, we're in the middle of a crime scene. This is hardly the time for a speech about sentiment and what I may or may not think of Adelaide." Sherlock remarked. The blogger sighed and shook his head at his friend.

"Moron. It's plainly obvious you like her yet you won't admit it because you're always trying to stay an emotionless machine-"

"It is critical for me to keep my head in control, not to let my heart get in the way."

"Sherlock-" The two abruptly stopped as Adelaide started to walk back over, trying to cover up her limp.

"Hey, is it alright if I go ahead and head home now? The animals are all okay and, um,.. it's been a long night. I've already given my statements to the Yard anyway."

John gave Sherlock a look and the detective cleared his throat, "You need to go home and treat your ankle. I'm fairly certain you twisted it during the confrontation. Ice and rest should help with the swelling and soreness," John aimed another look at him and Sherlock folded, "I will accompany you to make sure you arrive at your flat safely."

Adelaide blushed for the first time in a couple of hours, "I-I don't want to inconvenience you, Sherlock, I know you're busy with the crime scene and you don't have to come with me-"

"Nonsense. John I'm certain will be able to handle any other business needing attended to. John?"

The army doctor smiled, "Of course. I'll finish up here. You get home and rest your ankle. Sherlock will take you home." I might be stuck here all night taking care of this whole mess, but it'll be worth it.

Thank you for reading!!