Of werewolves and vampire's

Untitled Part 5

Once in the cab, Sherlock turned toward John.

"Ask. You have questions, I can tell."

John did in fact have quite a few, and a few things to correct. Like the fact he had a half-sister and was a werewolf, not a shifter. Werewolves mostly kept to themselves and avoided larger cities. John hadn't grown up around werewolves. After his father left when he was six, John hadn't met another werewolf until he was sixteen.

"Where are we going?"

"Crime scene. Next question."

"What is it that you do? You left a strange text on my phone about arresting someone's brother."

"What do you think I do? "

"I'd say private detective." That didn't seem right, but Sherlock was being tight-lipped for some reason. Back at the flat he spoke readily about what he thought was correct.

"But?"

John really didn't wish to in lust his mate so early on in the developing relationship hell, they weren't even friends yet. However, it would make him open up a bit out of pride.

"The police don't hire amateurs. "

"Amateur!? " Sherlock sounded offended. John only smirked. "Let's start with the fact I knew about the fact you're an army doctor. Your haircut, the way you hold yourself, says military. But your conversation as you entered the room said trained at Bart's, so Army doctor – obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. You have a slight limp at times, and your shoulder which suggests you were wounded in action. That and combined with the tan, which leaves us with Afghanistan or Iraq."

John was already impressed. The wolf preened in the knowledge that their mate was so smart. But it was clear Sherlock wasn't done yet, he had just briefly paused and had John's phone in his hands.

"Now for your brother, your phone tells it all. It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player, but you're looking for a flatshare – you wouldn't waste money on this. Even if you knew how to use all of it. Clearly it's a gift. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bits easy. You know it already."

"You're talking about the engraving on the back?" Carla loved to engrave and monogram things. She had engraved all of Harry's phones since they became a couple. Engraved on it was Harry Watson From Clara xxx.

"Harry Watson: clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father; this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to, so brother it is. Now, Clara. Who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. She must have given it to him recently – this model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then – six months on he's just given it away. If she'd left him, he'd have kept it. People do – sentiment. But no, he wanted to get rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you: that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but you're not going to your brother for help: that says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife; maybe you don't like his drinking. Either way you're here now."

"How can you possibly know about the drinking? Everything up to that point makes sense." John asked, amazed.

"Shot in the dark. Good one, though. Power connection: tiny little scuff marks around the edge of it. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge but his hands are shaking. You rarely see those marks on a sober man's phone unless he has a condition that causes tremors, but you never see a drunk's without them."