From desk worker detective to Sergeant at Scotland Yard, Adelaide Gregson has come a long way from her days in Manhattan. When one consulting detective catches her eye, things get complicated. When a case now means life or death, will sentiment prov...
It was getting late so the two of us decided to head back to Baker Street. After Sherlock paid the cabbie, I followed him upstairs to where John was sitting reading the paper. I pulled the check Sebastian had given me out of my pocket and handed it to John.
"Christ, what the hell is this?" He asked, eyes wide.
"From our case today. It's made out to Sherlock but I think it would be safer in your hands for now." I smiled.
"Right, thanks." He said slipping it into his wallet.
Sherlock sat down in his chair and began to think, I could tell he was away in his mind palace. After chatting with John for a little bit and bringing him up to date on the case, he decided to turn in for the night. I sat down in John's chair and watched Sherlock think. It was the strangest thing, he barely moved, barely blinked. His eyes were open but it was like he couldn't see what was straight in front of him. I don't know how long I had been staring at him before I drifted off to sleep.
The next morning I woke up on the couch with a blanket draped over me. I slowly raised myself up and turned my head. I saw Sherlock back in his chair in his mind palace. I hoped he hadn't been there all night and that he got some sleep. I also didn't know how I got to the couch, but one question at a time.
Just as I was waking up I saw John walk in the door.
"I said could you pass me a pen?" Sherlock spoke suddenly.
"What? When?" John asked confused, he turned to see if Sherlock was even talking to him.
"About an hour ago." Sherlock answered, I hadn't realized that it was nearly 10 am.
"Didn't notice I'd gone out then?" John said, tossing Sherlock a Sharpie. He caught it without even turning his head or eyes. I was surprised, and a little bit amazed.
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"I went to see about a job at the hospital." John explained.
"How was it?" Sherlock asked, I wondered if he actually cared or he was just asking because it was social convention to do so.
"Great. She's great." John answered.
"She?" I asked, my voice husky and sultry from just waking up.
"It." John corrected himself, but he wasn't surprised by my presence.
"Look who's finally awake," Sherlock said, "Have a look at this." He said while tossing his phone at me. I caught it with one hand, flipped it around and read the news page that it was on.
"The intruder who can walk through walls." I read, sitting up.
"It happened last night. Journalist shot dead in his flat. Doors locked, windows bolted from the inside. Exactly the same as Van Coon." Sherlock explained.
"He's killed another one?" John asked. I knew where the three of us had to go. Even on my vacation I had to work, great.
Since Lestrade was out most likely trying to salvage what was left of his marriage I had the delight to have to meet with Dimmock again.
