Why Fireflies Flash

Oranges

Soo Lin Yao's Flat

Quinn winced at the sound of Sherlock knocking the vase off the table next to the window. The wet spot on the rug caught his attention. "Someone else has been here. Somebody else broke into the flat and knocked over the vase, just like I did."

"My father helped Soo Lin Yao escape from the Black Lotus crime syndicate," Quinn says as she checked the drier. The clothes smelled heavily of mildew. "Back before he was promoted. After that, the only person she would talk to was me or my brother, Alfie."

The doorbell buzzed. "Do you think maybe you two could let me in this time?"

Sherlock ignored John's pleas as he felt the fabric hanging on the door. "Interesting."

"Could you not keep doing this please?" John begged. Again his cries were ignored.

Quinn went to the counter and scribbled a note in Mandarin before turning around in time to watch Sherlock choke back a gag brought forth from the smell of rancid milk. She had to stifle a giggle. "Should have checked the date."

"We're not the first," he says ignoring her.

"Obviously. She would be at the museum if we were. Somebody is after her." She walked over to an older photo of Soo Lin and her brother.

"Size eight feet," Sherlock states, "small but athletic."

"Small, strong hands," Quinn whispers analyzing the hand print on the glass. "Our acrobat."

"Why didn't he close the window when he lef- oh... Stupid, stupid! He's still here." He looked around spotting the changing screen in the corner. Slowly walking towards it, he reached out, and when his fingers graced the edge, pulled it aside to reveal an empty space behind it. Behind him, Quinn gasped and began choking.

He spun around to spy the killer choking Quinn with a piece of white fabric. He didn't move a foot before Quinn picked her foot up and stomped on the assailant's foot. He loosened his grip just enough for Quinn to pull what turned out to be Soo Lin's dish towel from his hand. She managed to spin around before the man gripped her neck and threw her into the vanity across the room. The mirror shattered on impact, slicing through the silk of her dress and giving Quinn a two inch long cut on her left shoulder blade.

"Anytime you want to include me!" John calls through the mail flap.

"John!" Sherlock tries. The call, however, is too weak to be heard by him.

Standing up straight, Quinn tore herself from the pain in her shoulder to the scene of Sherlock now being strangled by the killer. Shaking the glass from her hair, she bound over to them, kicking the smaller man squarely in the chest, effectively causing him to back off.

"-MASSIVE INTELLECT!"

The move cost Quinn her balance, allowing the man to slip something in Sherlock's coat pocket before slipping back out the window.

Sherlock pulled the towel from around his neck and started hacking trying to bring air back into his lungs. He sits up and slips his hand into his pocket pulling out a black origami lotus.

"He was not planning to kill us," Quinn says breathless.

"Certainly felt li..." he clears his throat, "like he was."

"Strangulation is not his M.O. We need to find Soo Lin. Before he does." She held her left hand out to him to help him up. Her took her up on her offer and clasped it. Needless to say, she pulled him up but with a slight wince as the move tugged at the newly made wound.

"Are you hur... ahem... hurt?"

"Please do not feel like you must feign worry over me. It is not needed. I am fine." She pulls her hair out of the knot holding it on the crown of her head.