Darkness Follows...(BBC Sherlock Fanfiction).

Chapter 8- I'm Not A Sociopath...

Darcy's POV.

We all stumbled through the front door of 221B Baker Street, "I haven't had that much fun..." I paused for thought, "...well, ever."

John took off his jacket and hung it properly on a hook, while Sherlock and I just draped our coats over the bottom of the banister.

"Okay, that was ridiculous." John said, breathless as he leant against the wall and Sherlock stood next to him, both trying to get their breaths back. I just glanced at the stairs and perched on the bottom couple of steps. "That was the most ridiculous thing I've ever done."

Sherlock turned to him, "And you invaded Afghanistan." John giggled adorably, and I joined in. I was soon laughing so much I had to stop to regulate my breathing.

"That wasn't just me." John retaliated, earning a chuckle from Sherlock and myself after I'd calmed down.

I cleared my throat, "Why didn't we go back to the restaurant?"

Sherlock turned to me this time and frowned before waving his hand dismissively, "Oh, they can keep an eye on it. It was a long shot anyway."

I leant my forearms forward on my knees, "So what were we doing there in the first place?"

"Oh, just passing the time." Sherlock cleared his throat, "And proving a point."

"What point?" John asked, obviously confused.

"You." Sherlock answered, pointedly.

I frowned and Sherlock turned, calling loudly in the direction of the ground flat, "Mrs Hudson! Doctor Watson will take the room upstairs."

"Says who?" I inquired, he looked down at me before turning his gaze to the front door.

"Says the man at the door."

As if on cue there was a knock on the door, John looked back in surprise and walked along the hall. Sherlock leant his head back and let out a breath, I laid back on the bottom of the stairs and did the same.

"Sherlock texted me." I heard Angelo say and I propped myself up on my elbows, in Angelo's hands was John's crutch. "Said you forgot this." I heard him add. I chuckled under my breath, "Knew it."

"And this is for your daughter, Sherlock." He added and I grumbled, "Still not his daughter."

"Ah. Erm, thank you. Thank you." John stuttered and I rolled my eyes before sitting up again, properly.

"What's for me?" I asked, holding out my hand and John placed an envelope in it.

I sighed and tore it open, it read:

Hi,

My Dad wanted me to give you my number but, obviously, I wasn't going to do that. So if he asks, I gave it to you and you can stop by the restaurant anytime, I'd like to get to know you a bit, perhaps we could be friends? If you wanted. You could meet Shaun, my boyfriend, just to clarify.

Thanks a lot, Carl xx

"Dull." I commented and shoved the letter in the pocket of my jacket, where it was folded over the banister.

"What is?" John inquired.

I looked at him, straight faced, "Carl. Wants to be friends."

"So?" He frowned.

I sighed, "I don't do friends John, they just let you down."

"Why are you traipsing around after us then?"