Sixteen

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The news showed brief pictures of Zhara the next day along with her "tragic" story and plenty of teary-eyed people who were either fans of the model or really wanted to be on the telly. Either way, they were over-dramatic with their interviews.

Molly Hooper had been watching it out of boredom for a few minutes while she was getting ready to start working in the hospital. To her surprise, she had a familiar name on her list, one matching that of the girl she saw on the news. Molly took a small (awkward) moment to chuckle at what she considered to be a coincidence.

"You know, the Universe is rarely so lazy." A certain detective's voice spoke behind her.

"Oh, uh, hello. Didn't hear you come in. What about the Universe?"

"Its rarely so lazy as to allow coincidence to occur."

"How...how did you know that's what I was thinking?"

"You're a fairly simple person to read. You just saw the news and you recognized one of the names on your sheet matched the one you saw. The chuckle also gave away that you found something humorous, but not quite to the point of bringing on laughter. Quite easy and obvious."

"What d'you mean?"

"It isn't a coincidence with the name, I made sure that you got the body of Miss Zhara Al-Kahtani. Maybe see if there was anything interesting, though I doubt it."

"Oh! I just remembered the thing about the man's body with a piece of fake skin attached; I pulled it off and there was a scar that looked like it spelled "Uncovered". A bit odd."

"Not very important towards my case, as I already figured that part out, but see if you find anything on this woman's body."

"Alright. I'll let you know later." Molly smiled politely.

Sherlock left the room before going to find something to do in his spare time. His first idea was to go talk to John and see about him helping out on a few cases, but he remembered that John had a job he was stuck at. That was when the second thought came into mind and Sherlock decided to try it, just to occupy himself. He hopped into a cab and headed back to 221B for the supplies he would need.

>>>>

Dr. Watson had already performed two routine check-ups that morning and he still felt half-asleep. Whenever Mary could, she popped into the room to try and wake him up a bit by bringing him some coffee or acting really energized so he would catch on. But nothing helped him out of his sleepy daze. It only caused the ringing of the office phone to be more irritating and noisy. And John still had another patient before his lunch break.

This man came into the room and sat down on the crinkly, somehow sanitary, paper over the cushioned matress. He was quite tall and dressed in clothing much too large for him. The man looked disoriented and like a bit of an odd duck. He coughed gruffly a few times, shielding his mouth with an arm.

"Good morning, Mr...ah....King." John greeted, looking down at his schedule sheet for a name.

The bristly man simply nodded.

"Ehm, what seems to be the problem?"

He stayed silent and pointed his finger at his throat.

"Is your throat sore?"

One nod.

"Alright, not much of a problem, sir."

John got up from his seat and grabbed a popsicle stick from a container before instructing his patient on opening his mouth widely. The man obeyed and stuck out his tongue as well. On a side note, John found his breath horrifyingly terrible and tried to examine his throat as quickly as possible to get him to close his mouth.

"Your throat looks alright, in terms of redness. Let me just take a little peek here and continue." John said and walked up to his patient.

He rubbed his fingers on the specific spots on the neck to check for anything out of the ordinary, only noticing a scar towards the right collarbone and shoulder of the shady man. He slightly winced at one point, but the doctor wasn't very concerned about it and judged that it was minor.

"Alright, Mr. King. Nothing seems to be wrong. Have you been eating things properly, biting and chewing food completely? Making sure it doesn't scratch your throat when you swallow? Maybe it's been a bit nippy out and it was perhaps too cold for your throat? But I don't think its very serious. Thank you for stopping by."

The man coughed, "I have come to see you, John...from a faraway land."

"Oh, is there a problem I should know about or are you being funny? Sorry, I can't quite tell."

"I thought you would recognize me...now I feel wounded."

"Sorry?"

"Yes, sorry indeed. You have gravely pained me today, John Hamish Watson."

"Excuse me, how do you know my middle name?"

"My name is Josef King, but my friends call me Joe. It's a bit of a common name used among jokesters and during pranks for the stupid reason that it can be seen as a joke, which you clearly didn't comprehend, John." The man spoke clearly in a completely different, and better-known voice which caused the doctor to roll his eyes once the man took off the oversized jacket and grubby beanie-style hat.

"Why would you do this, Sherlock? While I'm working!" John sighed.

"I was bored and couldn't just break into your home to find myself an activity, you wouldn't be very pleased with me."

"Damn right, but this isn't much better. You've got to find yourself something to do, Sherlock, this is getting to be ridiculous."

The detective shrugged casually and waved a quick goodbye with his fingers waving (in a mildly playful way), having a smile flash onto his face. He rushed off, back to his own flat while ignoring John's calls and Mary's surprise at seeing his familiar face. Sherlock had to walk a few blocks to finally reach the main street where more cabs were located to get home to Baker Street.

John had finished with the beginning of his day and shook his head while rolling his eyes at his observant, yet very blasé friend. He told his wife later on about Sherlock disguising hinself that day just to pull a prank on him. Mary laughed and told her husband that she had liked Sherlock from the first day she met him. Now he just occasionally acted like a child from feeling spiritless on a daily basis.

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