You and Sherlock

A Vandal Scandal

And then Sherlock kept walking. You froze, indignation bubbling up in your throat. Had you thrown away for food for nothing? John kept sight of you and gave you a gentle tug to pull you along as Sherlock went to the rear of the building.

There was already a young man there. Inconspicuous enough, if you ignored the fact that he was vandalizing a solid metal door with the striking image of a policeman holding rifle. The spray can in both of his hands and the open canvas bag, which you shamelessly peered into, revealed more spray paint. He saw you, as you approached, but continued spraying, unperturbed. Tagging the painting "RAZ," he carefully added a few outlines.

"Part of a new exhibition." The man -- Raz, maybe? -- told her Sherlock.

"Interesting," Sherlock said, clearly not interested. 

Raz chuckled.

"I call it Urban Bloodlust Frenzy."

"Catchy," John looked at you, confusion in his eyes and you shrugged.

Raz hastily added more details, eyeing John furtively.

"I've got two minutes before a Community Support Officer comes round that corner." Raz frowned at Sherlock. "Can we do this while I'm workin'?"

Nodding,  Sherlock plucked his phone from his coat pocket and held it out toward Raz. Raz turned and tossed his spray paint can at John, using his now-free hands to take Sherlock's phone and scroll through the photographs. 

"Know the author?"

Raz shook his head.

"Recognise the paint. It's like Michigan; hardcore propellant. I'd say zinc."

"What about the symbols: d'you recognise them?" Sherlock pressed, his tone bordering on impatient.

Raz squinted at the pictures, his face screwing up in focus. And then, disappointingly, he shook his head. 

"Not even sure it's a proper language."

Two men have been murdered, Raz." Sherlock tapped the phone screen. "Deciphering this is the key to finding out who killed them."

Raz scoffed incredulously. 

"What, and this is all you've got to go on? It's hardly much, now, is it?"

It was cold and dark, and frankly, you were impatient.

"Look, Raz, are you gonna help us or not? There's a murderer on the loose." You stuffed your hands in your pockets and glared at the graffiti artist. Raz shrugged noncommittally. 

"I'll ask around."

"Well," you huffed. "Somebody must know something about it."

Sherlock nodded emphatically and looked like he was about to say something but then you heard an angry "Oi!"

The four of you whirled around to see two Community Support Officers -- police, really -- hurrying towards you. Raz swore, and Sherlock snatched his phone away and sprinted in the other direction. Raz, in the meantime, dropped his spray cans, kicked his bag toward John, and took off. 

"Oh shit," You muttered, turning to give the officers a hopeful smile. John looked meekly at the officers, still clutching Raz's spray paint. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing? This gallery is a listed public building." The first officer was belligerent, but you were glad he was more preoccupied with the apparently guilty John. Never mind that you'd seen John draw, and his doodles looked like a three-year-old's greatest art class accomplishment.

"No, no, wait, wait." John protested, idiotically holding up the spray can.  "It's not me who painted that."

You backed away slowly, mentally facepalming. John was still talking.

"I was just holding this for ..." And then, probably for the first time, he looked around, his voice trailing off. 

The second officer turned to you. 

"And you are?"

You raised your eyebrows helplessly. "An innocent bystander?"

No dice. The other officer kicked open the bag at John's feet. And, to no one's surprise, more spray cans were inside. The officer looked at John pointedly. 

"Bit of an enthusiast, are we?"

John sighed and looked at you. You shrugged; you had no idea how to talk your way out of this. 

"Well?" The second officer now jumped in and put his hand on the handcuffs on his belt.

"Erm, gentlemen," You injected, holding up your hands innocently. "This really isn't what it seems."

"No? And who are you, lady?" The first officer, you realized with dismay, was already drawing his handcuffs off his belt. 

"My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I'm a pathologist -- and I didn't have anything to with this, officer."

"Right. And you are?" The officer looked back at John. 

"Erm. John Watson -- I'm not a vandal, I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

"Well, Mr. Wrong-Place-Wrong-Time, we've caught you red-handed, vandalizing a public building, so we'll be taking you in." The officer held out his handcuffs and handcuffed John, who protested indignantly. "And as for you, Miss Pathologist," he turned to you, "You'll have to come with us, as well, to give a statement."

The second officer, who seemed nicer, gave you a reassuring smile. And you sighed. This was ridiculous. And not at all how your night was supposed to go. 

And that was how you found yourself obediently climbing into a police officer's car with JOhn beside you, handcuffed and looking bewildered.

"Y/N?" He hissed, and you looked at him. 

"Yeah?"

"What now?" 

You shrugged. "I don't know. I've never been arrested, or had to help someone who has." 

"Quiet back there!" The angry first officer grunted. 

***

And so that was how you found yourself, two hours later, sitting with John as he received a Court mandated appearance for vandalizing, even though you'd tried to explain or ask them to contact Lestrade, but they weren't interested in listening to you, really.

Especially after you'd said John had nothing to do with it. 

"So," you tried as the two of you made your way out of the building, "That was... time-consuming."

John shot you a dry look.

"And unfair, yeah," you sighed. It was late now. Really late. "Do you want to grab a bite?"

John laughed harshly, his breath foggy against the night air.

"You know what, Y/N?" John shoved his hands deeper in his pockets. "Yeah, I do."

"How does Chinese sound?"

You gave him a cheeky grin and bumped his shoulder as the two of you made headway into the city. 

___

A/N: Me: write like a normal person and post a chapter consistently

also me: write 5k in one day and then post incrementally.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed! More to come