Experiments (Sherlock BBC- Johnlock Fanfic)

13- Murder Number 3

-Sherlock-

A 27 year old female with mousy brown, loosely tied hair lay dead in her apartment, just outside of London. Her apartment was tiny but pristine, with one single bed, suggesting that she did not consider herself romantically or sexually attractive. It suggests that she is also single. Along with a small kitchen with barely any food (suggesting she was too busy to cook), her apartment featured a small desk, clustered with textbooks and a laptop.

I gathered that she was a busy university student who passionately studies architecture (she had extra textbooks not necessary for the subject).

Aside from the woman's personal life, who had been identified as Tess Vernon, the cause of death was the same. The ammonia and bleach had been mixed in the bathroom, and another message was written on the wall.

'In honor of my colleague.'

It was scratched with the same material as the others, so no residue had been left on the wall or paint. It shows that the material was too hard to leave residue, and the material was sharp enough to leave scratch marks but not defined ones, meaning it couldn't have been a knife.

What could have done it? What did the message mean? I moved to look at the girl again. What was her name again? She kinda looked a bit like Molly. That was weird. How did she die again? How come I couldn't remember anything? I wonder where John was? Wait... did I run off on him again? Not again. I didn't mean to. Why am I here again?

I turned around, ready to go back home in confusion, when I saw John behind me. He looked windblown and messy, his hair was mussed and he looked at me cynically. He was kinda cute.

'Anything different about this case?' he asked me. His voice was slightly husky and he was puffing. Did he run here?

Oh, the case. Right.

'Um yeah it's fine.'

He shot me a questioning look. I couldn't look away from his eyes.

God what was happening to me!

'No no differences. I need to completely dust for prints, and send the laptop in for scanning of anything unusual, although it will probably be just like the last, and nothing will be found.'

I couldn't stop looking like John. I couldn't think. I couldn't focus. Not with him here.

My eyes drifted around his face subconsciously.

'John. You need to leave.'

Hurt flashed across his eyes before they narrowed in suspicion.

'Why?' he asked.

I wanted to tell him that I couldn't focus when he was around. I wanted to tell him that when he was near me all I wanted to do was look at him, or touch him. I wanted to, but I couldn't. I wouldn't ruin this friendship we had.

'Just go John... please'

He looked at me with confusion and hurt. I felt guilt well up inside me. I felt lonely without him, like there was something missing. He was always around me on cases, motivating me and giving me his opinion, and I would miss him. I don't know what changed in our relationship, but he made me nervous and flustered and unable to focus. Maybe I should see someone about it?

Regardless of my guilt, when the door swung shut behind him, I felt my mind being worked into action.

I had a long day of work ahead of me.