𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

16: Mistake

I was lying on my bed, contemplating possible murder when I heard the door to the flat downstairs open.

Sherlock.

Where has he been?

I checked my watch. He had been gone for a little over an hour. I heard him bustling around downstairs, doing lord knows what. After a while, it went uncharacteristically quiet. I slipped on a jumper and headed downstairs to investigate.

"What are you doing?" I asked suspiciously. Sherlock was lying on the sofa, his eyes closed. "Nicotine patch. Helps me to think," He replied, pulling up his sleeve, showing me the three patches pasted on his arm.

"It's impossible to sustain a smoking habit in London these days, how do you manage to do it?" he asked, not moving from the sofa, looking uncannily like a sloth. I pulled a cigarette out of my pocket and lit it. He stared at it enviously. I took a deep puff and blew smoke in his direction.

"It's good news for breathing, bad news for brain work," He said to me, his eyes following my cigarette with something that resembled hunger in his eyes.

"Oh, breathing, breathing's boring." I waved off his distractions. I sat down on Sherlock's armchair and continued smoking, both of us dissolving into the silence.

I noticed a pink case on the kitchen table. So you found it then?" I said, taking another deep pull of the cigarette as I assessed it. It matched the description of the murder victim's case.

"Atta boy Sherlock," I cheered. Sherlock rolled his eyes at me.

"How old are you?" he asked. I stuck my tongue out at him and pulled a face.

"Old enough," I replied.

"Old enough for what?" he asked suddenly, probing.

"Old enough to partaaayy," I grinned, giving Sherlock a salute.

He rolled his eyes at me and resumed his sloth position on the sofa.

At that moment, we both heard footsteps coming up the stairs. Heavy, uneven steps, male, walking with a cane.

"John," we both said at the same time.

He came shuffling into the flat, before collapsing into one of the armchairs.

"Hey John, where've you been," I asked curiously.

"What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, cracking open an eye to look at John.

"Just met a friend of yours," John blurted out.

"A friend?" asked Sherlock somewhat disbelievingly.

"An enemy," clarified John, looking at Sherlock in a new light.

"Oh," said Sherlock.

"Which one?" asked Sherlock, sitting up and ruffling his hair.

"Well, your arch-enemy, according to him. Do people have arch-enemies?" mused John aloud.

"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Deduced Sherlock.

"Yes," John admitted.

"Did you take it?" asked Sherlock.

"No! I wouldn't do that!" said John defensively.

"John, I am against your morals," I said, crossing my legs and reclining on the chair.

"Pity, we could have split the fee," muttered Sherlock, standing up and walking over to the window, pulling the curtain aside and looking out onto the quiet street.

"Think it through next time," added Sherlock to John.

"Who is he?" John demanded, standing up and looking Sherlock in the eye.