Fight for Me

Chapter 43

"I'm so sorry I'm late!" Lydia cried as she ran into Speedy's the following morning.

They hadn't gotten back to London until late that night and Sherlock had not felt like sleeping, which meant that he was just sitting in the living room where Lydia was trying to get some rest. And Lydia didn't want Sherlock to find out that she was now having nightmares nearly every time she drifted off, which meant she didn't risk sleeping until he finally retreated to his room early in the morning. She had managed to catch a few hours, oversleeping a bit, and ending up being a few minutes late to her morning shift.

Thankfully, she was called in to help open the cafe before any customers would be showing up, so she didn't feel as badly as she would if she had left her coworker alone to deal with the breakfast rush. She immediately jumped into work, tying her apron around her waist, and organising the freshly baked goods onto the platters.

It had been not even an hour into her shift when Sherlock came barging in, making a beeline to Lydia who was busy making someone's drink. Ignoring the protests of her coworker, Sherlock slipped behind the counter and grabbed Lydia's arm to drag her from her work.

The tug on her arm nearly caused her to spill the drink she was making, but thankfully only causing a few drops to spill outside of the cup. Her eyes widened upon seeing Sherlock and she barked, "Sherlock, what the bloody hell are you doing here?!"

"We have a case," he replied tersely, taking the cup from her hands and placing it down on the counter.

"No, you have a case, I'm trying to work. I can't just up and go whenever you want my help. This is an actual job, Sherlock!"

Sherlock stopped in his tracks and turned back to Lydia, surprised by her rejection. He was getting the impression that she quite liked to be out on cases and to see him work, why would she choose this mediocre job instead of a murder?

But he quickly overcame his shock and let out a huff of annoyance, "fine, but at least take a look at the photo Grant sent me."

Knowing that Lydia would recognise the tattoo as belonging to a ring of smugglers and hoping that it would convince her to help him, he handed over his phone, analysing her reaction upon seeing it. As soon as her eyes lit up, Sherlock knew that he had her hooked, there was no way she would refuse a case like this, not when she would be able to offer her expertise.

But she still looked conflicted as she averted her eyes from the screen, "Sherlock, I'd love to help- I just, this is my job, I can't make it a habit of running off whenever you have a case. The tattoo, it's the mark of the Black Curs, they're a smuggling ring."

"Which means you could be quite helpful to the investigation," Sherlock prodded, not willing to let her refuse his offer.

"You don't need my help, Sherlock, I'm sure you'll solve it just fine on your own."

"But I want you there," he finally confessed, cringing as the truth fell from his lips. "Please, Lydia, just come take a look at then you can finish your shift."

She let out a sigh, but found herself unable to argue against him any longer. The truth was that she wanted to to go with him, more than anything in the world. But with her being bugged and having gotten a job, she would be better off staying put. Her lips twitched upwards as she caught herself in the lie. She didn't give a damn about her job and as for the listening device, well, Sherlock knew that it was there and certainly would not allow himself to slip up. The reason she didn't want to go was because she was attracted to the detective and the only way she even had a chance at staving off her feelings was to stay out of his presence as much as possible.

"Fine, I'll see if Poppie can cover for me," Lydia finally spoke, despite knowing that she was going to regret this. Her coworker narrowed her eyes at Lydia as she asked if she could handle the cafe alone, but dropped her anger when Lydia told her that she was being called in by the police. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but wasn't a complete fabrication.

The cab ride to the crime scene was tensely silent, not that Lydia had been expecting anything less. She was too afraid she would reveal her feelings if she spoke and Sherlock was certainly not a conversation starter. She vaguely wondered if he enjoyed the silence between them, because to her it felt nearly suffocating.

As soon as the cab arrived as close as possible to the scene blocked out by police tape, Lydia jumped from her seat and hurried over to the body. John had already arrived, giving her a kind smile as she came into view whereas Lestrade seemed surprised to see her at another scene, especially when John was already available. It seemed that Sherlock had gone out of his way to bring Lydia to the case, only making him more suspicious of the two.

Sherlock handed Lydia a pair of gloves before starting to investigate the body himself, trusting that Lydia would do the same. Rather than focus on the cause of death, which seemed quite apparent given the bullet hole in the victim's chest, or the backstory of the victim, Lydia began to search the body for any trace of stolen goods. She felt the police officer's gaze on her as she began to check the lining of his clothes, blocking out their sniggers when she reached into the man's trousers, knowing the male smugglers could get away with hiding merchandise there. Eventually, she made her way down to his shoes, removing one of them and running her fingers down the sole. There was nothing within the inside of the shoe, but sliding off the heel revealed a small bag of a white substance she immediately identified as cocaine.

She tossed it to the Detective Inspector, "well, he was definitely a smuggler."

"I'm sorry, but how exactly did you know where to look for this?" Lestrade spoke as he stared at the seemingly innocent woman in front of him. But now he was not quite sure if she was as innocent as she was letting on.

Lydia gave him a shrug, "I grew up around crime, Detective Inspector. Even if you don't partake in it, you learn a lot. For example, he's part of a group called Black Curs. They're quite a successful smuggling ring, unknown by law enforcement to the best of my knowledge. I don't want to sway the investigation, but I do know that they used to have a large feud with the Kray Syndicate. But that may not be the case anymore, I haven't heard much about them since I was a teen."

"I'll have my network look into that, I'm sure they'll have better luck than Scotland Yard," Sherlock spoke, his attention focused on his phone.

Lydia frowned, "you have a network?"

"The homeless," Sherlock signed at her, clearly not wanting to give the Foundation anymore information than the fact he informants.

Lestrade seemed confused by their interaction, but decided not to question it, instead asking, "do you have anything for us, Sherlock?"

He gave and nod and began spewing everything he had deduced of the victim. Lydia, however, wandered off mentally, wondering why the victim was killed. Her first thought was that it was a member of the Kray Syndicate, that was why she had mentioned it, but it seemed strange that they wouldn't have taken the cocaine after killing him. They certainly would not have left something so valuable behind, especially when it was hidden in such an obvious location for a smuggler.

After Sherlock had finished his deductions, Lydia pulled him aside. "You wouldn't mind if I went back to work, would you? I think I've helped out here as much as I can and I don't want to lose my job so soon."

Although disappointed, Sherlock could find no logical reason to keep her at the crime scene besides the fact that he wanted her there. Besides, he was about to leave himself and do some research back at his flat, which Lydia would realise he wouldn't need her help with.

So he nodded and handed over a fiver, "take this for the fare, I'll see you back at the flat."

Lydia was about to protest the money that he gave her, but realising that she probably didn't have enough money on her to pay for the ride back to Speedy's herself, she pocketed the money and gave Sherlock a word of thanks.

Back at Speedy's she quickly explained to Mr. Chatterjee that she had helped find a missing girl on Sunday and Scotland Yard had called her in for her statement, apologising profusely that it had happened during her shift. But he let her off with the promise that she would work an extra shift, which meant she'd be stuck working for most of the day.

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(A/N): Now we've got John and Lestrade noting how Sherlock and Lydia are definitely into each other (though let's be real, Mrs. Hudson knows too). I hope you enjoyed this chapter!