I believe in you - Sherlock Fanfiction.

Chapter five - A call from Lestrade.

The first call from Lestrade came exactly two days after Johns and Sherlock's 'making up'. John's still a bit fussy around him, and tries to avoid him when he can but I think he's taken it all in that Sherlock was in fact, not dead.

"Are you coming, John?" Sherlock questioned after coming off the phone with Lestrade. John cleared his throat.

"No, I, uh," he shoves his hands in his pockets. "I have to – there's something I have to do at work."

I couldn't help but to roll my eyes. Could he make it more obvious that he didn't want to go? I mean yes, I understand why. Maybe it was the rush of it all, and he didn't want to go into a case too quickly. Especially since he had just go his life under control with his job and girlfriend. He didn't just want to change it all. But I, on the other hand, didn't mind at all.

"I'll go."

"Its fine, I can go by myself." Sherlock responded, his annoyance obvious by the fact that John wouldn't be tagging along with him.

"Why can't I come?"

"Why do you want to come? Its stressful."

"I know."

"Scary."

"I don't scare easily."

"Dead bodies."

"Its cool."

He narrowed his brows, "Can you run?"

"Like hell I can." I let out a laugh, but then realising by his expression that he didn't appreciate my humour. I cleared my throat, "Could be just take a cab?" I inquired. All I did since I quit my job was sit around all day, besides doing my usual errands in the flat. I didn't really do anything productive, and I didn't really have friends to see beside going to visit Mary. So I wasn't a very good running as you could tell. I cant even run up the stairs without running out of breath.

He rolled his eyes, "Grab your coat, its cold outside."

"Yes!" I whispered to myself and made some kind of air punch gesture before running off to grab my coat, hat and scarf. I chucked them on quickly before waving goodbye to John and walking out the door with Sherlock. When I'm outside I'm met with a lovely, cool breeze. I smile, excited to start join Sherlock on a case. As I said earlier, I was such a boring person. I need a little adventure in my life.

Sherlock hailed a cab and once one parked on the gutter for us he climbed in, me following ensue and sitting next to him in the back.

"So," I began once the cab started to move towards our destination, "What did Lestrade call about?"

"You know, the usual." He replied, and I let out a soft sigh.

"The usual? Sherlock I'm new to this."

"Oh, right." He let out, like he has actually forgotten about me and replaced me with John. "Some woman had her throat slashed deeply, so deep that you could even see her anterior longitudinal ligament bone. It's the third one in two weeks and Lestrade needs my help. He thinks it's a serial killer."

"Yeah, the usual." I mutter. "Isn't he freaked out that you've risen from the dead?"

"I haven't 'risen from the dead simply because I was never dead to begin with.'" He looked at me, "He understands why I did it."

"Okay." I didn't want to say much more because he would just start moaning at me about asking too many questions, so I decided I would just leave it. After about a fifteen minute drive we pulled over at the crime scene and and paid the cab before hopping out. I noticed Sherlock gave a surprised, yet, disgusted look at someone.