Sherlock: Carpe Diem

A Game, A Case and A Trap from Jamie

Author's Note: Sherlock wears the purple shirt of sex in this chapter...I'm in love with that shirt...

Baker Street was still in uproar, and Sherlock didn't think he could take it anymore. The constant noise was stopping all logical thoughts from even entering his brain. He should have forbade John from letting those monsters stay with them. It seemed as though none of this was ever going to end. He now found himself in his housecoat and pajama's all day, curled up into the couch trying to block all of them out. Nobody payed attention to him now anyways, always to caught up with making sure that the girls didn't do anything too dangerous that could potentially kill them all. But what did it matter what they did? The real focus should be why nothing has happened yet! Why no criminals have done anything even of remote interest. The world was dull and boring and Sherlock could not live with that! He couldn't live in a boring world, what would be the point in that. The days already seemed to drag on, but at least he knew that at some moment he would be given a case to work on. Everything was just taking an endless amount of time now. He got up from his place on the couch and went into his room to go and get changed into his purple dress shirt and his pants. He then walked back out to the sitting room, snatching his violin out of Tessa's hands as he walked past, noticing the glare that she gave him in his peripheral vision. He tuned his violin and began to play it. It was just his own music that he wrote, and sometimes he would change it up. He heard John's footsteps running around the flat and he was quickly able to assume that he was running late for an engagement and would be leaving Sherlock here with the three demon teenagers. Oh the joy. He heard John run downstairs and he heard him take an intake of breath, indicating that he was about to say something.

"Your leaving the flat, because you have an engagement, probably with a girl, seeing as you are in such a hurry and are worried about being late. Just go." Sherlock sighed.

"Yes you're right, as usual, Sherlock. Girls, don't do anything bother Sherlock when I'm gone. God knows I can't save you from him if you piss him off."

Sherlock smirked as he heard the door to the flat shut and John walk down the stairs leading out towards the street. John was right, he really couldn't save them if he wasn't there, so they had better listen to John if they wanted to stay on Baker Street. He chuckled lightly to himself and continued to play his violin, noticing that the apartment had become more quiet. It seemed odd, out of character for the girls. He turned around and he saw them all sitting on the stairs that led up to John's room. Just sitting there, not doing anything. Instead of questioning their actions, he stole the rare opportunity of silence and used it to his advantage to keep playing his violin and allowing his thoughts to drift. It was the first time he had been able to thing clearly since Jamie's first day here. He thought about past cases, and even some more previous ones, thought about things that he just couldn't quite figure out. Like the shoes. The ones that had belonged to Carl Powers. Obviously they half played their part in the game Moriarty and himself had played, but how had he known 20 years prior that this was all going to happen. It was impossible. Sherlock himself wasn't even an adult at the time, so it was impossible for Jim to have been one either. So how could he have known that he would need the shoes? Perhaps he kept them as a trophy? Moriarty, in the most simple terms, was vain, and perhaps the shoes were a token of victory for killing Carl Powers and getting away with it. But even then, why keep them for so long. Only to just give them away. It didn't make sense. He heard noises once more, and sighed, wishing for quiet again. If he were anyone but himself, he would have been thankful for the small amount of quiet he got, but no. He was just bitter and angry once more. He heard footsteps running from behind him, and he saw Dynah run up to the window, looking down on the street.

"Hey, Sherlock?" she said.

"Yes, Dynah? Do you recquire something?" he asked, irritation obvious in his voice.