It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

86 - Meeting Henry Knight

None of this pleased the detective, "Nothing of importance?" He let out a growling yell of vexation as he slammed the bottom of the harpoon on the wooden floor, "Oh God!"

Elizabeth looked up at the detective with a small frown at his behaviour. John waited for Sherlock's next statement showing his desire for some entertainment.

"John, I need some. Get me some."

Elizabeth frowned more at this request.

"No."

A fierce look crossed Sherlock's face as he demanded again, "Get me some."

John remained firm in his reply, "No. Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what." He turned the page of his newspaper, "Anyway, you’ve paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius’ll sell you any."

As John spoke, Elizabeth was moving papers from off her lap so that she could stand to approach the erratic detective.

"Stupid idea." Sherlock spat at John, "Whose idea was that?"

John merely cleared his throat, giving a pointed look to the Holmes resident. Sherlock sighed, clearly aggravated by the lack of something adrenalin-inducing. Elizabeth was stood in front of him by this point, giving him a sympathetic look as she ran her hands down his upper arms.

"C'mon, Sherlock, you promised me you would try."

He huffed, something changing in his eyes and he leaned in to whisper something into her ears. The heat rose in her cheeks as he pulled away. Elizabeth looked over at John who had resumed reading the newspapers and then back at the detective, shaking her head.

"I - not now."

"Please."

"Sherlock - "

"I need y - "

"I know you need something to do - "

"Like you." He spoke just loud enough for her to hear.

"Not. Now."

Sherlock pursed his lips as he met her gaze. He really wanted to keep trying but this intense need for something could not be calmed or contained. And if he couldn't have his partner then at least a little smoke would give him some kind of a rush. Huffing again, he broke her gaze and looked straight towards the stairs.

"Mrs Hudson!"

It was Elizabeth's turn to huff now, releasing his shoulders and folding her arms across her chest as she continued to frown at him. Having been dismissed by the detective, she leant against the desk by the window. De-stressing the other way Sherlock had suggested just was not possible while John was around.

However, Elizabeth wasn't leaning against the table for long as Sherlock bumped her out of the way so that he could throw the desk papers on the floor in search of his cigarettes.

"Hey!" She had snapped at him when he did that but got no reply out of him as he continued his frantic (and ridiculous) chaotic search.

Instead, Elizabeth begrudgingly followed after his trail of mess, tidying it up as he kept on turning up the flat.

"Look, Sherlock," John began, "You’re doing really well. Don’t give up now."

"Tell me where they are. Please." Came the detective's tone of desperation, "Tell me."

He stopped trashing the apartment and turned to look at his partner and doctor friend again, a calmer, sweeter look on his face as he looked between them. Elizabeth's heart melted slightly at this front, but she was determined not to let him get back into smoking.