Miss Moriarty is Holmes!

Chapter 8: Friend and a fangirl on my first day?

Authorney:

Greetings, (Actually there's no need to be formal)

I just realized that I'm talking to you guys lately, like in every chapter I babble things. So, here's the thing that I'm gonna babble for the day:

To the Sherlolly fans out there, have I disappointed you when Molly said she's gonna get married to the copycat-of-Sherlock-who's-not-special-at-all-name-Tom? Sorry, this is not a Sherlolly fanfic (But still, that doesn't make me reasonable for my actions, isn't it?) It surprises my friend also---like 60-80%---and maybe some of the silent readers. Sorry.

But not sorry for more Moffat bombs on the way, let me think of something that will...'burn' the heart of everyone. (You can suggest if you want *winks*)

Have a nice day in reading (I'll stop talking for a while, seriously)

(Joan's POV)

I reached for an aspirin and a glass of water in the kitchen. I haven't slept after I accidentally slept in Sherlock's bedroom. That was embarassing. A terrible insomia fell upon me after that. I tried to close my eyes and sleep, but sloppyness became the opposite. I'm wide awake, maybe its the thrill and excitement for my work.

So instead, I exercised, took a shower, watch the telly, ate breakfast, staring at the ceiling for a long time and finally dressed up for my work. I did all of those things for an hour and it's still early in the skies. I groaned for my unsuccessful attempt of passing time, it's still 5:20 a.m. I got more hours to kill, but it seems that the silence will kill me first.

That's when I decided to wear on my hoodie jacket for a jog. I raced outside the Baker street along with nobody. Today's a nice day to jog with a fine English weather painted around London.

(Sherlock's POV)

I tried to sleep and sleeping...is definitely boring. I tried my best to sleep but still my mind works which pulls me away from the attempt of sleeping.

I knew she was drunk as she walked directly to my room and locked it. I blinked several times after that. I waited for an hour to see if she was joking or going to recognize her mistake. Clearly, she haven't. So I knocked gently to wake her. It might be the most polite thing I did rather than yelling or kicking her out. I kicked John once and he rolled out from my bed. Don't ask about it. He haven't post that one in his blog.

Ella's scent leaves a tiny fragrance of apple-raspberry in my bed, I could smell it. Is it shampoo, body wash or perfume? It was distracting me from sleeping, but I never said it doesn't smell nice. It is, but it's just that it seems like I'm not sleeping on my very bed. Instead, it's more of a woman's bed. No, not The Woman.

I sat down on my favorite armchair, plucking the strings of my violin with 5 nicotine patches on my arm. Deafening silence, John's not here, Mrs. Hudson is still asleep, and Ella must be sleeping finally on her bed.

No, she's wide awake. And is about to leave her flat. But it's very early.

Just I have predicted, I heard a door closed and steps going down. I rose from my armchair and peeked from my window, she was on her hoodie jacket jogging. What is she up to? I thought.

Doesn't have any destinations, just jogging to anywhere she'd go. Killing time. Health aware---seriously, like Mycroft. Early bird. Up too for the case, I guess so. Sleep.

Wait, what did I just say internally? Sleep? Why would my brain say such a thing? I already tried and I failed to do so.

I listened to it and gave myself a long yawn. I shake my head to shake drowsiness off me and trace my steps back to my bedroom.