Fourty-Four

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Lottie had remained distant from the detective for the entire weekend and continued to do so for the Monday when John returned to work. Sherlock didn't care at first, then began to feel pestered at the fact that there was another person nearby that was pretending not to notice his existence. His eyes glanced upwards from his computer screen to peek at what the blonde was up to whilst ignoring him. She was leaning over the kitchen counters with her phone in her hands, demanding her attention for a solid hour and a half.

Surprisingly, it was her who broke the silence- "You know, you could be lying dead in a ditch somewhere for knowing what I used to be."

Sherlock smirked, "Who would have the gruesome task of killing me?"

"Possibly me, if I really was that bored. Other people would easily volunteer to do so as well."

"How would you manage to do the deed?"

"Something cleverly simple. So you'd look like a fool for being killed so easily."

"That'd make a good newspaper title, wouldn't it? 'Genius detective accidentally consumes cyanide'. Sounds quite humorous."

"Either that or you fatally stabbing yourself without knowing. Place a knife on the edge of a surface, make sure you weren't looking, then wait until you turn the wrong way and bleed to death."

"Violent thoughts for an individual such as yourself."

"What do you expect? You knew what my parents were up to, how was I supposed to grow up normally?"

"You've heard of my parents and how their children turned out. Your parents don't justify the way you became yourself. Someone absorbs the bad if they enjoy it, subconsciously or not."

"How are you so talented at reading people? Of course I loved the rule-defying behavior set before me as a child. My thoughts don't differ, remaining to be bloody and usually plans to benefit myself." She now stood before Sherlock with a cocky expression and in a confident stature.

"The path to fame for you must have been a piece of cake then."

"Of course it was, and you find my defiance of morals to be intriguingly refreshing."

He remained silent at Lottie's comment and felt outsmarted by her again. She chuckled in response to his thoughts of defeat and sat down in the seat acroos from him, smugly training her blue eyes on his. Sherlock shut the laptop lid in slight frustration and stared back at her, immediately launching the start of a staring contest between the both of them.

After a few moments of increasingly glassy eyes, Lottie blinked and groaned. The detective laughed quietly at his first victory against the girl. It was then when he took closer notice to her appearance- a messy bun of gold hair atop her head, a face free of makeup, black leggings, and a worn-out grey sweatshirt that was loose enough to reach her mid-thigh. The detective made the obvious deduction that she wasn't planning on leaving the flat and felt comfortable enough around him to look as careless as she did.

"What are you looking at me for?" Lottie asked.

"Nothing, you just obviously have no plans for the day."

"Not fully true, Mr. Holmes, I've got a date with Netflix and a bag of crisps." Lottie's softer demeanor became evident when her smile turned from being snarky to comical.

She stood up quickly, snatched the crisps off of the counter and made herself comfortable on the couch with her laptop open to Netflix. Dramatic intro music played while the crunching of Lottie devouring snacks began. A male American voice spoke seriously from the electronic device, saying "Previously on Teen Wolf ..." followed by loud footsteps and screaming. Sherlock tuned out the noise and watched the girl's smile widen then fade numerous times throughout the episode. Being absolutely clueless as to what was occurring on the screen, Sherlock found her distorted expressions to be extremely hilarious while she responded to the character's actions.

John returned in the early evening, spotting Sherlock to be in the same position as he had been the whole day- sitting aimlessly in his chair while Lottie binge-watched episodes of tv shows with snacks. The doctor started to question why his partner had done nothing all day, but the detective cut off his sentences by spouting out an unrelated fact to make up for an answer. Eventually, John gave up on up-keeping a conversation with the detective and went out somewhere with Stamford. This was, finally, the one thing that caused for Sherlock to get up and wonder why John was acting so moody. He didn't see how him staying home with Lottie would cause for such tensions to arise.

The evening had remained mainly silent until the quiet was interrupted by a phone call to Sherlock.

"Hello?" The detective answered in a monotone voice.

"Yeah, there's been a robbery and we can't figure out how someone's gotten in and out of here since there aren't any marks on the crime scene..." Detective Inspector Lestrade replied.

"Where?"

"315A Kingston Street."

"I'll be there soon. Don't ask any questions, just let us in to investigate."

"Alright bye." The police detective ended the call.

Lottie, of course, had been eavesdropping on what was going on and pointed out, "What do you mean by "we"? John's out."

"Simple fix, would you mind if I extracted you from your tv series daze so you could accompany me on a case?"

"I don't really want to leave the flat, but I guess I'll have to if I'm here to help you solve your mini-mystery." Lottie sighed, brushing crumbs off of her lap and standing on her sore legs.

She didn't pay any mind to the fact that her face was completely uncovered while a pair of shoes was slid onto her feet. Sherlock took slower, smaller paces and joined her inside of a cab to travel to the scene. The robbery was apparently so amazing because an entire store was emptied, but there were no traces of someone breaking in or outside of the building.

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