You're An Idiot, Sherlock Holmes (OC x Sherlock)

Not My Idea of a First Date

"Lauren," I acknowledged, who was standing in front of my door patiently when I got there. Unlocking the door, I asked, "How long have you been standing out here?"

"The whole day," she answered with a shrug. I looked up at her response before shaking the thought that she may have been stalking me.

"I didn't even tell you my apartment number," I pointed out. "Or the building, for that matter," I added under my breath.

"I googled it."

I nearly dropped my keys in the process of jangling the doorknob. "Is that so." I hesitantly opened the door, keeping my eyes glued to Lauren as she walked in behind me.

"All right," I said, tossing my purse aside and plopping on the couch. I knocked my heels off and rested them on the coffee table. This was my apartment, after all. "Whatcha get this time."

She took a seat beside me and with an awkward clearing of the throat. I retracted my legs and sat in a normal position, slightly moving in the direction away from Lauren.

"I talked with Deacon myself," she announced proudly.

"Wow," I said with an approving nod. "Doing better than Scotland Yard at everything, I see."

"He said he'd been wanting to start his own chapstick company . . . "

"As would every chemist," I said under my breath.

"And he wanted his sister to be the first one to try the brand, give him some feedback, all that stuff," continued Lauren. "And I even talked to the Scotland Yard's forensic team . . . "

"As would every idiot," I muttered, holding back an eye roll.

"And they said nothing was in the water. Instead, it was the chapstick."

My brows knitted together at the comment. Didn't Lestrade say it was what was in the water from Winchester's bottle?

"Oh, is it, now?" I asked, suppressing my challenging expression.

"Yes, and they're going to arrest Deacon right now," Lauren said happily. With that, she rested a soft hand on my knee. I hid my widened eyes from her. Do I move away? Get up? Push her hand off? "You know, there's one thing I haven't told you that makes me very naughty," she said, suddenly with a seductive voice.

I laughed nervously, my eyes still wide, not knowing what to do.

"I've never told anyone this, but . . . detectives turn . . . me . . . on . . . "

With every word, her hand progressed up my thigh. Out of panic, I take her wrist with two of my fingers and pry her hand off. Again, still in a panic, I quickly rose to my feet and blurted out, "Do I smell a gas leak?" before fleeing out of the apartment.

I can just stay in the elevator until Lauren leaves. Live under a rock forever. Anything to get me out of this situation.

I don't want Lauren. I want Sherlock. 

before I had the chance to figure out what I should do, I heard a gunshot coming from the direction of where I had just fled.

"Lauren?!" I called out, running back into the apartment, fumbling for my keys.

Once I unlocked the door, I withheld a gasp at the sight of Lauren lifeless on the floor, a red liquid slowly spilling out of her temple.

Stumbling for my phone, I immediately called Scotland Yard.

~

"We found the killer," Lestrade stated, walking into my office. I closed a folder and set it aside, giving the Detective Inspector my full undivided attention. "Deacon Winchester: brother of the victim and murderer of Lauren."