Play the Game - Sherlock fanfic (Sequel to Painting Murders)

Old Friends

New Update Guys!

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I awoke with a start, jumping violently and sending paper flying as I sat up abruptly. I groaned and flopped back down when my head began to spin and covered my eyes in the crook of my arm.

I blinked against the darkness and slowly peeled my arm back to see I was laid across the sofa in the front room. The mind maps and papers I'd written on we're crumpled around me, some I was laid on and rustled as I sat up again.

The curtains had been closed and the TV turned off. The left over pizza had been removed from the coffee table and a glass of water stood in its place.

I rubbed my eyes; I must have slept through dad arriving home. I listened very carefully and heard him snoring lightly upstairs. At least he was back.

Suddenly music blared as my phone alerted me to the fact I had a text. It must have woken me up.

I groaned and clawed the phone before squinting painfully at the bright screen to read the text from an unknown number:

Meet me now @ Vicki Stn

I looked at the time, ten past twelve in the morning and groaned again. Should I go? Was it right to sneak around behind Sherlock's back like this? After all it was his case . . .

I tip-toed from the sofa up to my bedroom.

Technically it was my case too.

I found a tatty black denim backpack and slung my purse, keys and phone into it. I collected up a notepad and assorted pens and dropped them into it as well. I pulled off my clothes and replaced them with acid washed grey jeans and a t-shirt before pulling on my black waterproof. I pulled on black pumps and left the room, swinging the backpack onto my shoulder. As I left the house I grabbed dad's Oyster card from his wallet before shutting the door softly. I ran in the direction of Paddington station - maybe I could catch the last train on the circle line and get to Victoria station. But the underground could be unpredictable late at night. Or closed.

The station wasn't as empty as I'd thought as people charged past me with suitcases and backpacks and maps all wrestling to get through the barriers. I swiped the Oyster card and jogged to the platform.

I had to sprint and dive on the train just as the doors began to close.

"That was a close one!" One man in a long overcoat laughed at me as I straightened up, "Going somewhere important?"

I shook my head, grabbing the support bar as the train set off, rumbling and churning like a speedy monster.

"Victoria station, I'm meeting a friend." I smiled, rearranging my backpack on my back and thinking that I knew exactly where I was to meet my friend upon my arrival.

Although I was nearly the last person left on the train, Victoria station was still humming with scattered life and when I came to the surface I realised it was because it had started chucking it down. The rain bounced on the roofs of the cars and people's umbrellas with a colossal force, the noise was deafening.

I pulled my waterproof off so I could put my backpack against my t-shirt before pulling the coat back on. At least now my backpack wouldn't get soaked.

I fought through the crowds on the pavements; women in large heels and short dresses shivering under the coats of the gentlemen accompanying them, stag parties and just general people. Lights shone in restaurant windows and music boomed when pub doors were opened.

I splashed across the road between two parked taxi's and made my way towards the yellow lights of the twenty-four hour McDonalds situated there.

The neon M buzzed as I passed through the door and into the warmth; the smell of burgers and chips hitting me hard and making my stomach churn noisily.