The Science of Deduction Does Not Extend to Relationships

Chapter 4: Does That Really Make Us So Bad?

            “Oh, I really hate him sometimes!” I groaned, putting my head in my hands.  John cocked an eyebrow at me in confusion.  “My father,” I elaborated.  “He’s never liked Sherlock much, or it was more that he didn’t like his little girl spending all of her time with Sherlock.  I think he always thought Sherlock was a bit odd.”

            “Well…”

            “Yes, yes I know he isn’t like most people, but my dad should accept my friends…especially when they lived next door to us.”

            “True,” John nodded.  “Okay, so I have to ask.  What was Sherlock like growing up?”

            I laughed remembering the tall, little dark-haired kid who was a younger Sherlock.  “Well, he was like he is now.  We didn’t play with too many other kids, not that there were many in our neighborhood, and he and Mycroft fought all the time.”

            “So nothing new there then,” John commented.  “But, like, what did he do?  I can’t imagine him playing with toys or blocks like most kids do.”

            “Not at all.  We used to play games like Cop and Robber or I’d create mysteries for him to solve.  And if we didn’t want to do that, we would play Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit, or sometimes watch Jeopardy; basically anything to stimulate the mind.”

            “Hahahaha, I…can’t…even…imagine!” John was doubled over in laughter at the thought of a young Sherlock.

            “And what, may I ask, do you find so funny, John?” I deep voice came from the doorway.

            “Oh nothing, Sherlock,” John forced back his laughter.  The two of us were smiling like idiots up at Sherlock who was looking quite aggravated. 

            Noticing this, I frowned slightly.  “Sherlock, we’re just taking the mickey out of you a bit.  Don’t take it so seriously.”

            “That’s not it.”

            “Then what is?” I asked, giving my friend a confused look.

            “It’s too quiet,” Sherlock muttered thoughtfully in response.  “Moriarty.  He hasn’t made his next move yet,” he elaborated at the highly confused looks John and I continued to give him.

            “Sherlock…it’s been roughly twelve hours.  Don’t you think it’s a little soon to be expecting something from Moriarty?” John asked.

            “It’s been eleven hours and twenty seven minutes to be exact, but the moment we let our guard down is the moment he’s bound to strike next.  I have to catch him before then.”

            “Sherlock,” I said standing up and rubbing his arm gently.  “You can’t live every minute worrying about avoiding or catching Moriarty.  It’s going to consume your life.”

            “Maybe you’re right Lils.  I’ll go back to focusing on other cases,” he nodded absentmindedly and I could tell he wasn’t really listening to me and wasn’t really going to stop hunting Moriarty, but I just left it.

            “Well, what are we going to do now?” Sherlock asked.  “I’m bored.”

            I giggled at his sudden change in attitude.  “Alex has a football match with his pub league in a little bit, so I’m going to go to the flat to get what I left behind.  I left in a rush last night and only took what I really needed.  Then I’ll probably find a hotel to stay in until I can get a new flat, and if there’s time, I’m partaking in retail therapy.  You two are more than welcome to come with me.”

            Sherlock sighed and thought about it for a good few minutes.  “…Alright, I’ll come along,” he finally decided. 

            “I have some errands to run this afternoon, so I’ll have to pass, but when you two are done, why don’t you meet Sarah and I for dinner?  How about the place we went Thursday of last week, Sherlock?” John suggested. 

            I smiled brightly, eager to meet this Sarah.  “Alright, sounds good John.  We’ll meet you there at seven, sound good?”

            “Sounds great.”

            “Okay, I’m just going to throw on some clothes and get ready then we can go Sherlock.” 

            Half an hour later, Sherlock and I were in a cab on the way to my old flat.  When we got there, I rummaged through my purse to find the key; my companion impatiently huffed in the hall behind me.  “Something wrong, Sherlock?” I asked, smiling slightly but turning so that he couldn’t see my face.

            “Oh not at all, Lils, but you could hurry it up a bit.”

            “Calm down buddy,” I laughed at Sherlock’s childish behavior and opened the door.  “Welcome to mi casa...well, mi ex-casa.” I left Sherlock to look around while I got together the last few of my belongings in some boxes we had on the closet shelf. 

By the time I was done I had packed up blankets of mine, my pillow, my phone and iPod chargers, a straightener, my favorite mug and several other dishes, files and the computer from my home office, some framed pictures, and a few photo albums and scrapbooks I had put together over the years.

“Okay Sherlock, I think that’s everything.  Let’s get out of here,” I called out and Sherlock popped his head out of my home office.  What nonsense he was getting up to in there, God only knows, and I knew better than to ask.  “Help me with these boxes, will you?”

Before either of us had the chance to pick up the boxes, however, we both heard the door click as it opened and closed behind someone.  Turning, I found myself face to face with Alex.

Hope you all continue to enjoy <3 I figured the picture was appropriate seeing as we have to wait until 2012 for the next season of Sherlock.  I don't know about anybody else, but the wait is slowly killing me.  If it weren't for Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy and War Horse coming out later this year, I don't know how I'd get through this Benedict Cumberbatch withdrawl.