Dancing with the Devil (part one)

Chapter 18: Do you care?

The next morning Astrid woke up, still not recovered from the dramatic series of events from the previous night. She sat up and swung her feet over the edge of the bed. The memories of the traumatic phone call to Jim came rushing back and she began to rub her head at the painful recollection.

She stood up, her bare foot against the soft and now clean carpet and slowly got dressed into some black jeans and an old star wars t-shirt. She felt like she was going to cry as she looked down at her hands in disgust, but was distracted when she heard the TV being turned on upstairs.

Astrid sauntered over to the full length mirror she had put up on the back of her door and looked in it sadly. She could see tears beginning to form in her eyes and wasn't hesitant to wipe them away. She smiled at her messy reflection and as confidently as possible, went to join the boys.

She entered the front room to find the two staring at the television, she arrived just in time to hear John say something about someone getting about a lot.

"Well, obviously I lost that round - although technically I did solve the case." Sherlock said angrily as muted the TV. He looked up at Astrid and frowned at her disoriented appearance, "have you been crying?"

"Sorry?" Astrid replied.

"You're eyes are red, and your right hand has mascara on it."

"Sherlock, stop it." John butted in, which Astrid pulled a chair over and sat with them.

"It's okay, John." she smiled, causing Sherlock to grin at the frustrated doctor, "just had a bad night."

"Is everything okay? I heard noises in your room last night." Watson said protectively.

"it's fine." Astrid sniffed, "guy trouble."

Sherlock frowned at her.

"My boyfriend broke up with me." She improvised and realisation dawned on the clueless detectives face.

"Oh, sorry."

"S'okay" She said rubbing her eyes, "he was a twat anyway."

John chuckled as Sherlock continued to look into space thoughtfully.

"The bomber killed the old lady because she started to describe him." Sherlock considered what Astrid thought to be blatantly obvious. "Just once he put himself in the firing line."

"What d'you mean." Astrid asked.

"Well, usually, he must stay above it all. He organises these things but no-one ever has direct contact."

"What ... like the Connie Prince murder – he-he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?" said the doctor who Astrid was starting to realise was quite stupid.

"Novel." Sherlock said to no-one in particular, John gave a questioning sigh and Sherlock pointed his head towards the muted TV screen.

Raoul the house boy could be seen being escorted outside the grand house by two police officers.

Astrid continued to stare at the TV where Kenny Prince could be seen in the window of his sisters grand house holding his Egyptian named cat looking un-approvingly at the crowd outside. She chuckled to herself as the detective and the doctor talked about Carl Powers.

"Anything on the Carl Powers case?" Watson asked

"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection"

"Maybe he was younger than the bomber?"

"the thought occurred."

"So why's he doing this, then – playing this game with you? D'you think he wants to be caught?"

"He wants to be distracted," the detective corrective and Astrid momentarily tilted her head; he wasn't wrong there.

"I hope you will be very happy together." John said as he got up and walked towards the kitchen.

"What?"

"There are actual lives at stake, Sherlock!" he said as he angrily paced back and leant onto the back of his chair, "actual human lives... Just – just so I know, do you care about that at all?"

"Will caring about them help them?"

"Nope."

"Then I'll continue not to make that mistake"

"You find that easy?"

"yes, is that news to you?"

"No." He smiled bitterly, "no."

"I've disappointed you." the detective stated.

"yeah, that's good, that's a good deduction."

"Don't make people into heroes, John. Heroes don't exist, and if they did, I wouldn't be one of them." He said flatly, until the pink phone beeped and he smiled, "excellent."

"What is it." Astrid jumped out of her seat and looked over Sherlock's shoulder at the phone.

"View of the Thames. South Bank – somewhere between Southwark Bridge and Waterloo." he said and looked up at the still angry John Watson, "you check the papers, I'll look online..."

He stopped talking as he saw John looking like he couldn't be bothered, he smirked as he took out his phone from his pocket.

"You're angry with me, so you won't help." He began to look through his folder as Astrid decided to make her way to the pile of papers on the coffee table and flick through them, "Not much cop, this caring lark."

After a few moments of silence John begins to walk over to Astrid.

"Archway suicide." She muttered to herself and Sherlock snapped something back as the doctor sat down next to her and began flicking through a magazine. "Two kids stabbed in Stoke Newington."

"Ah, man found on the train line- Andrew West."

"Who?" Astrid asked as Sherlock sad something to himself irritatingly.

"Something that Sherlock's brother was asking me to look up." he said as he got up at the same time as Sherlock, "come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Crime scene." Sherlock said dramatically as he wrapped his scarf around his neck.

Astrid smirked as the doctor followed the detective, Astrid took her phone and texted Jim as the boys got ready at the front door.

Who's Andrew West?

AH

She put her phone in her pocket and quickly got ready and went with the boys.