[Complete]
Sherlock was not one for relationships. Ever. No exceptions.
Well...maybe one.
Melody Winters was the one person to turn the Consulting Detectives head, despite being just about the only one not intending to. So what happens when Melody...
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As Melody walked up the stairs, she could hear Sherlock rushing around, looking for something. She had just got back from her rehearsals, having neglected them for the past week. The boys were so close to finally solving the case of the dancer that was murdered, the time that Melody and Sherlock first met. It didn't feel like that long ago that it happened, but it had already been 9 months. Time flies by when you're trying to avoid a criminal. And keep a secret from those close to you.
"It was him! It was the brother! I knew it." Sherlock shouted as she walked into the room.
"Wait, what? It was Jackson?" Melody asked. She never would have suspected Lydia's brother. He always seemed so quiet, so...sweet. "Huh. I guess you never really know someone." Hypocrite, she thought. She shook her head at herself.
Just as Melody was about to speak again, the doorbell rung, cutting her off. They all waited in silence, trying to listen to Mrs Hudson speak to the person at the front door, but they couldn't hear anything. After what felt like ten minutes had gone by, the door to the flat swung open to reveal two men in black uniforms, both with club tattoos on their necks.
"You have been ordered to come wiv' us. Boss said that we leave here wiv' you, conscious or unconscious. Your decision." Both of them waited for someone to say something.
"Which of us is it you've come to take?" Melody asked, seemingly unfazed by the men, but in reality, shitting herself, as she knew what was to happen today.
It's all part of the plan.
"Both of ya's. The ova' one can stay 'ere." He pointed to John, who rolled his eyes.
"Thank you for very kindly sparing me. Although I do have a complaint-" John started sarcastically.
"-Yes, John thank you for your opinion, but I don't think they were really looking for it. Now if you'll excuse us, I think Stanton is expecting an appearance." Said Sherlock, standing up from the sofa and buttoning his suit jacket, while Melody put her coat on.
"There will be no need to restrain us, we'll happily come with you." She paused for a minute. "O-okay, well, maybe not happily, but we'll come nonetheless." Melody was sure that she was on the brink of hyperventilating, but she tried to keep calm. If she started freaking out too much, then Sherlock was sure to suspect something, and that could not happen. Not yet, at least.
Both Sherlock and Melody were escorted downstairs, making sure to stay close to each other the entire time. When they stepped out of the door, the first thing that Sherlock noticed was a large red SUV. So as I thought, not an average criminal. Maybe more of a stupid one, then. One of the men walked over to the back of the car and opened one of the rear doors. Melody slid in first, followed by Sherlock, who as analyzing everything as they went.
The ride to wherever they were meeting Stanton (well, that's what they both assumed they were doing) was a long one. Three hours of pure silence, except for the classical music that was playing on the car radio, and they finally arrived at the destination. Sherlock couldn't help but think that all of this was far too easy; there had to be a catch. Either Stanton was giving up, throwing in the towel, waving the white flag, or; neither him nor Melody were leaving alive.
