A Market Meeting

Part 3

Sherlock dodged around the man in the wet jumper as soon as he caught a glance of his suspect slinking toward the side door behind a vendor stall. It was a slight opening at the mouth of the alleyway, exactly where he anticipated, just to the right of a farmer selling winter vegetables. Sherlock waited a moment before silently creeping through the door, and a sharp smell greeted him as he entered. The dark room began to take shape as his clear eyes adjusted, and Sherlock realized he was in an old storage facility for a butcher shop. A few animal carcasses hung around him like that of a working butcher shop, but they were putrid, obviously not being sold, instead being used to throw off a scent. He scoffed lightly, this was one of the oldest tricks in the books. He rather hoped he was dealing with a higher caliber of criminal, but alas this seemed to be another generic, dull-minded criminal web that Lestrade and his incompetent team still could not apprehend. He shrugged away his disappointment. He could hear voices coming from somewhere in front of him, and navigated his way through the horrendous smelling creatures hanging from the rafters. If his investigations were correct, there was to be a large drop happening in roughly an hour, and he needed to catch them in the act, making sure there was evidence to put these men away for a while.

John climbed the stairs to his apartment two at a time, hoping to get into the deceptively warm room sooner. He shut the door behind him and stripped off the jumper that had started to freeze on him and discarded it on the kitchen counter to be washed later. He ran to his dresser and grabbed a thermal tee shirt, slid it on, and tossed another rather tacky jumper over top. He couldn't seem to get warm soon enough, and hustled to put on the kettle to make a quick cup of tea. While his brain continuously reminded him how cold he was, he couldn't help but drift off a bit to think about the man from the market. What had been behind his eyes that John found so fascinating? He sat on his old, slouching couch with a fresh cup of tea warming his limbs, wondering to himself, making conjectures, and imagining all about this stranger he found so endearing. A warmth grew in his abdomen as he drank his tea, but he soon realized it wasn't only the tea that was causing this feeling. He was genuinely curious about this man, feeling like there was more to his story, more to know and learn about this odd connection he felt he couldn't deny between him and the stranger. John felt like he was going a bit mad, letting his mind wander so much, but decided to lean into this feeling and make an adventure of it, he was tired of sitting alone in his drab apartment anyway. Once he had warmed up and finished his tea, he grabbed gloves, shoved on some warm socks, and laced up his old combat boots as he headed out the door, back to the market to continue his search.