𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐄𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫 || 𝐁𝐁𝐂 𝐒𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤

31: The Blind Banker

There was currently an epic sword fight going on.

Good thing I had snacks. I took a bit of an apple as I watched as Sherlock was locked in hand to hand combat with a six-foot Sikh warrior in a turban and full traditional battle dress. I watched as he lunged toward Sherlock with a lethal-looking blade, Sherlock narrowly avoiding the sword as he jumped back to avoid the blow. However, the warrior feinted and managed to land a solid kick.

I winced inwardly. that was definitely going to leave a bruise.

The Sikh warrior kicked out again and managed to knock Sherlock back onto the table. Sherlock rolled away just in time before the knife landed, gauging a hole in the table.

They both aimed blows at each other, equally matched, although arguably Sherlock was at a disadvantage that was becoming more and more noticeable.

"That must hurt, do you need my help yet?" I asked casually as I watched A punch land in his stomach. I stretched luxuriously and watched, amused as Sherlock punched the assassin in the face. Twice. I whistled appreciatively.

"Nice one, got him right in the nose," I cheered.

Sherlock managed to give me a dirty look before the assassin renewed his efforts. But I was beginning to find that this fresh source of entertainment was getting rather boring. Sighing, I generously decided to intervene before Sherlock was seriously injured.

"OI!" I yelled at the assassin. He turned automatically at the sudden shout, giving me a chance to hurl my half-eaten apple straight at his face, hitting his nose with a satisfying thud. I watched blood spurt from his nose as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Sherlock groaned and got up from the floor, wincing at the bruises that were blossoming under his shirt.

"Only you could turn an apple into a deadly weapon," he muttered. I inclined my head.

"I try my best."

"I was handling the situation," he insisted, causing me to snort.

"Sure, if it helps you to sleep better at night."

Walking over to the unconscious assassin I wrinkled my nose and kicked his motionless body, turning him over to expose his face.

"So what was this fight about?" I inquired. Sherlock sat down on his sofa, steepling his fingers under his chin.

"It's a message," he replied.

"Was it for the Jaria diamond case?" I guessed. He nodded.

"Glad to see that there haven't been any recent accidents in the kitchen, I think you deserve a gold star!" I exclaimed.

Sherlock rolled his eyes at me.

"The kitchen is still intact is it not?"

"Barely. Do you remember when John had to call the fire brigade last time?"

Sherlock huffed and ignored me. I gestured at the unconscious Sikh warrior. "Do you want me to take care of the trash?" I asked. Sherlock nodded.

"Please, but make sure that he's still alive, I don't want to send the wrong message," he replied.

"Okie Dokie sunshine, we're going on a little trip." I grabbed the unconscious man by the arms and dragged him out of the flat.

His head hit the floorboards with a satisfying thunk on each step. Mrs Hudson came out of her flat, probably to discover the source of all the noise again.

"Alexandria, what on earth..." she trailed off in horror.

"Morning Mrs Hudson," I said.

"Don't worry, he's still alive, just a bit bruised." I chuckled at the look on Mrs Hudson's face.