I believe in you - Sherlock Fanfiction.

Chapter thirty two - Shezza Homie.

AN: Thanks for your lovely comments! I want to start dedicating to people:) I'm pretty sure i'll dedicate some chapters to all of you. This ones dedicated to KatAteYourWiFi. :)

After a while of driving, we finally reach our destination. John parks on a piece of concreted waste ground outside the address Kate gave us. John gets out and opens the boot of the car and takes something out, then walks around to my side and opens the door for me, then walks around to the passenger side. I hear Mary laugh at him as he tucks something into the top of his jeans.

"What is that?!"

"It’s a tyre lever."

"Why?"

John nods towards the house, "Cause there were loads of smackheads in there, and one of them might need help with a tyre." He says sarcastically, "If there’s any trouble, just go. We'll be fine."

I smile at her before we both start to walk towards the building.

"Er, John, John, John!"

We stop and turn around to see her getting out the car.

"It is a tiny bit sexy." Mary says to him. I laugh.

"Yeah, I know." He reply's nonchalantly. 

Mary waits by the car while we start to go towards the house. We walk in front of the front door, which has a large sign saying, "PRIVATE PROPERTY. KEEP OUT."

John bangs loudly on the door, "Hello?"

"How many do you think is in there?"

He shrugs, and was about to answer my question but was cut short by the door opening by a young man wearing a jacket with the hood pulled over his head. He looks scruffy and dirty.

"What d’you want?" He asks, then looks towards me and grins. I cringe. "We don't get many pretty ladies like you up 'ere."

"’Scuse me." John says, and barges his way in and walks down the hall. I follow him, and the man turns towards us.

"Naah, naah, you can’t come in ’ere!"

I look into a room as we walk past, "Were looking for a friend."

"A very specific friend – Were not just browsing." John then says, joining me and looking through the doorways as we walk past. We reach the last room, look in there then start walking back again.

"You’ve gotta go. No-one’s allowed ’ere."

"Isaac Whitney. You seen him?" John questions.

The man takes out a flick-knife from his pocket and snaps the blade open. I roll my eyes, "He's asking you if you've seen Isaac Whitney, and now you’re showing us a knife. Is it a clue?"

The man gestures towards the front door with his knife.

"Are you doing a mime?" John speaks up.

"Go. Or I’ll cut you."

"Ooh, not from there. Let me help." John walks closer, stopping close enough to the man that he could stab him if he wanted to. The man stared back at him wide-eyed. "Now, concentrate. Wheres Isaac Whitney?"

"Okay, you asked for it." The man threats, but before he could even think about moving, John lashes out with his left hand, seizing the mans right arm and slamming his right hand down onto the mans arm. I cringe, as it looked painful. The man cries out in pain and John wraps his right hand round the front of the mans neck then slams him against the wall, then uses his right foot to sweep the mans feet from under him. The man slumps to the floor and John steps back. The man then chokes and groans in pain, and John bends down and picks up the flick-knife which has fallen to the ground.