The Great Game (Sherlock Holmes x OC)

FIVE- The Rising Tensions

Sherlock was sitting in his armchair and Anita was sitting in John's, who was currently asleep in his room upstairs. Sherlock had the pink phone on the left arm of his chair and the two of them were watching the TV. The telly was showing the high rise block of flats and the headline read:

12 Dead in Gas Explosion

"Old block of flats. He certainly gets around," Anita commented.

"Well, obviously I lost that round- although technically I did solve the case," Sherlock grumbled as he picked up the remote and muted the TV.

"He killed the old lady because she started to describe him. Just once, he put himself in the firing line," Sherlock said. Anita looked over at him, eyebrows furrowing.

"What d'you mean?"

"Well, usually, he must stay above it all. He organizes these things but no-one ever has direct contact," Sherlock explained.

"Like the Connie Prince murder- he arranged that? So people come to him wanting their crimes fixed up, like booking a holiday?" Anita further questioned.

"Novel," he commented, softly.

Anita turned back to the telly just in time to see the story about Raoul's arrest. Anita whistled to get Sherlock's attention and pointed over at the TV. Sherlock followed her finger to the screen and saw the story.

"Taking his time this time," Sherlock said, staring at the back of the pink phone. Anita was still looking at the TV, but turned her attention back to Sherlock.

"Anything on the Carl Power's case?" Anita asked, scooting to the edge of John's chair.

"Nothing. All the living classmates check out spotless. No connection," Sherlock replied.

"Maybe the killer was older than Carl?" Anita tried to reason.

"The thought had occurred," Sherlock answered, dismissively.

"So why's he doing this, then- playing this game with you? D'you think he wants to be caught?" Anita pondered, hoping for a real solid answer.

"I think he wants to be distracted," Sherlock said, pressing his fingertips together in front of his mouth and smiling slightly.

Anita turned her head away and laughed, humorlessly, at Sherlock's reaction. She pushed herself off of John's chair and walked to the kitchen.

"I hope you'll be very happy together," Anita sneered, roughly pulling down a mug and setting some water on the burner. She was trying to be considerate that John was still asleep, so she wasn't being as rough as she wanted.

"Sorry, what?" Sherlock asked from his seat. He knew Anita was mainly upset that people died, but couldn't understand why he was getting caught in the crossfire.

"There are lives at stake, Sherlock- actual human lives...do you care at all?" Anita asked, walking back to the kitchen doorway in her anger. Her voice was low, but it's tone showed how angry she was.

"Will caring about them save them?" Sherlock asked, irritably.

"Nope," Anita snarked, popping the 'p.'

"Then I'll continue not to make that mistake."

"And you find that easy, do you?" Anita argued, her voice raising a bit. Sherlock knew Anita found it difficult to detach herself and Anita knew Sherlock found it difficult to attach himself.

"Yes, very. Is that news to you?" Sherlock asked, annoyed at the conversation. Anita knew the answer to the question, there was no point in asking. Anita turned her back on him, heading back into the kitchen.