Enigmatic |Sherlock Fanficton|

Chapter 2- New Case

"Marie dear, we have another bedroom if you'll be needing one."

Marie turned to Mrs. Hudson as she came into the room, and Marie nodded her head, as a way to say that she'll be taking it. Marie turned to Sherlock once more, and she studied his face. He was obviously confused unto why she was staying, and why she was really here.

"Did Mycroft pay you to spy on me?" Marie rolled her eyes, and looked at her almost gone wine.

"No, Sherly. Mycroft only does that to people who he knows would actually agree to it." Sherlocks eyes followed Marie as she walked over to the couch, and set down her wine on the coffee table, and sat down.

"Why are you really here?" Marie cocked her head to the side, saying she was confused without any words. Sherlock walked up to her with his hands behind his back, looking her in the eyes, carefully.

"Does there need to be another reason unto why I wanted to see my bestfriend, Mr. Holmes? I have missed our deducing in cafes." She smirked slightly at him, and she watched as he relaxed more. She stood up and walked to him, dangerously close.

"I have a case for you." Sherlocks eyes immediately lit up, and his facial expression. Sherlock turned away from her quickly, and grabbed his laptop, checking his email.

"Tell me, oh bearer mine." Marie walked over to Sherlock, proudly, with her head held high as she looked down at him. Sherlock sat slumped over in the wooden chair, focusing on the laptop, and only that.

"A man was murdered. The usual thing. Until you read more into it. The man wasn't actually murdered. The police say he committed suicide, but the signs arent there. No one knows what really killed him. But the killer left one clue, for us all. But specifically for you." Sherlock watched closely as Beckham pulled out a clear bag, with an envelope, that was addressed to him inside.

Sherlock tried snatching the bag out of Marie's hands, but she pulled it away, somewhat teasing him. He gave her a confused look, and she smiled at him.

"Will you take the case, Mr. Holmes?" He rolled his eyes and finally took the bag from her, and put his gloves on. Marie watched as he took one of his professional tools, and delicately opened the expensive stationary. Marie noticed the small particles fly of the sealing, and Holmes took out a small Troll doll. Marie scoffed, and Sherlock studied it, trying to find any clues.

Marie walked away and sat on the couch. She watched as Mrs. Hudson walked in, and looked through the fridge, almost screaming at the decapitated body parts.

"Mrs. Hudson, would you mind showing me to my room?" Marie stood up once again, and followed Mrs. Hudson down the hall, and into a room, next to Sherlock's. The room was moderately sized, equipped with a bed already, along with a dresser and a mirror.

Marie flopped down on the bed, and took out her phone. She went to Amazon, and ordered a black bedspread, and dark blue accessories to her liking. She got up quickly and grabbed her keys. She walked out of the room, and she could feel Sherlock's eyes on her.

"Where are you going, Marie?" She stopped in her tracks, and faced him. He watched her every movement, trying to still figure out what she now was. She didnt answer him. She turned away, and walked out of the flat.

Sherlock got up, and watched her walk out, curious unto what she was doing. He shook it off, and sat back down in his usual seat. He put his hands to his mouth, in his thinking position, and decided to contemplate Marie.

Whenever Sherlock tried to deduce her, he couldnt find anything. Only question mark, after question mark. He didnt even know what to think. He thought about her, yes.

Sherlock had known Marie her whole life. He used to be able to read her oh so very easily. But, now... Sherlock didnt understand something, for once in his life. He didnt understand Marie Beckham.

Marie Beckham.

Marie.

Beckham.

He was starting to get frustrated, and he slammed the tea mug that sit beside him, against the wall. He heard Mrs. Hudson yelp, probably because she was startled, and he heard her start to walk up the stairs.

"Its okay, Mrs. Hudson. Im just frustrated." He turned to face Mrs. Hudson, and she could see the rush of emotions on his face. She nodded, and walked out of the room, as if knowing that Sherlock mustn't be bothered. He ignored the fact that there were shards of the mug next to him, and he sat back down without bothering to pick them up.

Marie was a woman. Just a simple woman.

No, she isnt. She cant be. Sherlock can read anyone.

Accept for her.

Rage coursed through his veins. What had he done to himself, letting her back into his life so easily? Sherlock got up, and started to play his violin. He knew the word to describe her now. Such a complicated word, yet so meaningful to her existence.

Enigmatic