𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

24: Shadowed

Following Alex proved tricky as she kept looking over her shoulder, almost as if she expected to see someone following her. He felt it to be quite tedious, having to duck in and out of alleyways to prevent himself from being seen.

Alex seemed to be determined as if on a mission, avoiding eye contact and keeping to herself. He narrowed his eyes at her and thought back to the past few days. Recent signs of stress and anxiety, unexplained usage of a high quantity of drugs.

Something must have happened.

He followed her to a bridge, where he stood discreetly behind a marble pillar, as he watched Alex and a man he didn't recognise converse. They were too far away for him to hear what they were saying, but the man seemed agitated. Sherlock narrowed his eyes and deduced what he could.

Agile, knows how to use a gun, as seen from the positioning of his hands and the revolver in his jacket pocket. Constantly scanning his surroundings. Seasoned high-class criminal. Elevated alertness, looking around constantly, worried. Romantic or sentimental attachment to Alex. Sherlock furrowed his brow as he continued to watch them. 7 minutes and 23 seconds after they had met, the man's eyes widened as he shook his head furiously. Alex seemed annoyed as if she was trying to persuade him of something. This went on for some time until he appeared to finally give in. They both said their goodbyes and parted. Alex turned and came walking his way, much to his panic.

He couldn't move without immediately being seen. He was preparing his excuses when she walked right past him, not noticing him at all. He blinked in surprise as saw her round the corner. How? Alex notices everything. Something's wrong, but I can't ask or else she'll know that I followed her. But at that moment, he realised he had another more pressing matter. He had to get back to Baker Street before she did.

Rushing through the crowds, he gained a few curious looks from the people on the streets as he turned the corner onto Baker Street. Running up to the door of 221B, he hastily fed the key into the lock and slammed the door shut behind him.

Alex had been keeping secrets, and his burning curiosity got the better of him. He checked his watch. John should be back from his date in half an hour. He took off his coat and went straight to the window, waiting for her to return.

***

As I opened the door to the flat, I found Sherlock sitting on my chair, his eyes closed. A picture of tranquillity. John sat in his chair, looking gloomy.

"What's wrong John," I asked. John looked up, glum.

"Kate broke up with me," he said.

"How can she have broken up with you If this was only your first date? It is most likely that she found someone before coming to this date, and then decided to let you down gently. She wasn't the one for you John. You will probably find someone better." John smiled.

"Thanks, I think," he said. He went to his room, probably to go on that infernal blog of his.

"So Sherlock," Alex began quietly.

"Been anywhere interesting Sherlock? Other than sneaking around and stalking me, of course," she said.

Sherlock flinched guiltily.

"How much did you hear?" I snapped. He crossed his arms as he stared at me.

"I heard everything, Alex. Quite shocking what you're getting up to with your little friend."

I tensed, but then quickly relaxed.

"You're lying." Sherlock frowned at that.

"I've been told I'm an excellent liar" he raised his brows.

I snorted.

"You are fairly average. There was a behavioural delay when you replied. Then there was your eye direction. Several studies talk about the direction of eyes during the period someone is lying. Typically when people look up and to the right they are lying or tapping into their imagination. When they look up to the left they are remembering or recalling something, tapping into the memory part of the brain. You looked up to the right Sherlock."

I settled into the chair John had vacated, drumming my fingers on the worn leather impatiently.

"So why did you follow me, Sherlock?" I asked quietly.

"You were high, and I wasn't about to unleash you, a notorious loose cannon, on London in that state," I raised an eyebrow.

"And exactly how many times have you been high outside," she retorted.

He shrugged.

"Touché. But I'm not a wanted mass murderer and assassin."

"Who was that man you were talking to?" He asked curiously. I frowned slightly, irritated.

"A friend, you should try finding some." I looked him in the eye, daring him to probe further. I pulled my headphones from my jacket pocket and put them on, the loud music beating rhythmically in my ears. I pointedly ignored Sherlock's probing gaze.

He gave up, striding over to the kitchen as I watched him pick up abandoned test tubes and dumb them into the sink in a feeble attempt at clearing up the hazard that was the kitchen table.