In The Game of Love

two

Irene flashed her one last smile before she shut the door and disappeared into the night. Y/N stood frozen as her mind raced with different scenarios. She could back up and disappear right now, but how far would she get? Or she takes her chance with Irene and hope that she stays safe?

"I should have shipped off to America when I had the chance," Y/N muttered, running her hand down her face.

~~~

The next morning, John showed up to apologize for his roommate.

"I really am sorry to you both for what happened last night," John sincerely stated. "Sherlock struggles with basic-"

"Manners," Y/N interrupted. She waved it off. "Seriously John it's fine. Actually... I was meaning to talk to you."

"Yes?"

"I would like to see Sherlock again."

"What?" Both Mary and John questioned.

"Honestly, I would. He seems interesting and I need some of that in my boring life."

"I-I-I don't know if that's a good idea Y/N."

"I promise he can't do anything to me. I just want to test the waters."

John eyed her silently for a while before caving in with a sigh. "Fine. I'll mention something to Sherlock. See what I can do."

~~~

John showed up at the fight ring after stopping by Y/N and Mary's. It was empty, all but the workers, and a mess from the night before. He already knew where Sherlock would be so he headed up the stairs to the small room above the bar. Opening the door, he found his friend picking notes on his violin while studying a glass bottle of flies.

"Watson?" Sherlock questioned. He paused what he was doing and stood up straight.

"Right," John confirmed. "Let's go." He headed further into the room to see what Sherlock had been taking.

Sherlock began circling around the jar of flies. "What started merely as an experiment, has brought me to the threshold of monumental discovery," he stated. He paused, picking at his violin again. "Now, if I play a chromatic scale, there's no measurable response."

"You do know, what you're drinking is meant for eye surgery."

"But, now, and this is remarkable. If I change to atonal clusters... Voila! They fly in counter-clockwise, synchronized concentric circles. As though a regimented flock." John came closer. "Watson this is exceptional. I, using musical theory, have created order out of chaos." After looking into John's eyes for a brief second, he began picking at the violin once again.

"How did you lure them in?"

"Excellent question. Individually. I've been at it for six hours."

"And what happens if I do this?" John opened the top of the jar and tapped against the glass with his cane, causing the flies to fly out.

Sherlock watched all the flies hurry away. "Right."

"Clean yourself up. You are Blackwood's last request."

Sherlock got as cleaned up at he wanted to. Which meant he put on a tie and gathering the rest of his clothes in his arms before meeting John at the carriage. John was silently brooding as he started out the window.

"Look at those towering structures," Sherlock tried, moving to look out the same window. John turned away. "It's the first combination of a Bascule's suspension bridge ever attempted. Most innovative." Turning to Watson, Sherlock fell back into his seat. "What an industrious empire! Oh, I have your winnings from last night." He held up some money. "You weren't there, so I made your customary bet." John went to reach for them but Sherlock quickly retracted them. "You're right. I'll keep it with your checkbook, locked safely away in my drawer." John licked his lips in frustration before focusing back out the window. "Did you know the opera house is featuring Don Giovanni? I could easily procure a couple of tickets if you had any cultural inclinations this evening." Sherlock sighed when there was, again, no response. "You have the grand gift of silence, Watson. It makes you quite invaluable as a companion."