A Sign Of Two

4 - Let's Solve A Murder

7.30AM

Knock. Knock. Knock.

It was Saturday morning, and I'd decided the previous night to give myself a well-earned lie in. Well...that's what I had planned for myself at least. At this point I had still not yet learned that there is very little that regularly goes 'to plan' in Baker Street.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"Ugggh" I groaned, rolling over in bed and shoving a pillow over my face as to block out the annoying knocking noise. Who on earth would be calling at this hour? Probably Ms Hudson, wanting me to do a stupid job that she didn't want to break her back doing.

The knocking ceased and I thought I was finally going to be left alone to enjoy my bed and my sleep, until I heard my door handle creak and turn.

The door to my flat squeaked with age as it opened, I tried to forget my tiredness and open my eyes.

I heard footsteps.

I looked over to the door and opened my right eye slightly, but squeezed them tightly shut again when the daylight coming in through the windows starting burning my pupils.

"Good morning" a voice said.

A male voice. A deep, male voice.

I opened my eyes.

"Jesus Christ!" I cursed out loud, rapidly sitting up in bed and pulling the bedcovers up to my shoulders in utter shock.

"Nope, just me" Sherlock replied, putting emphasis on the 'p' in 'nope'. He was wearing pyjamas and a thin dressing gown over the top, but he didn't look tired like me, he looked radiant. He was looking around my flat. That nosy sod.

"What the hell are you doing in my flat?!" I exclaimed, still in shock, and feeling a bit embarrassed.

"John's away" Sherlock muttered "And having a person to talk to is much more entertaining than talking to a skull. You shouldn't have left the door unlocked really."

I groaned at the annoying detective "What do you want Sherlock?" I frowned at him, irritated that he had disturbed me, but also feeling a bit flustered.

"I want you to come on a case with me" he replied bluntly.

I stared at him for a few seconds, not really knowing what to say or how to react.

Solve a crime with Sherlock Holmes? Why me? It sounded insane. It sounded dangerous.

It sounded fun.

Sherlock noticed my shock and his lip curled into a half-smile. He turned away and walked over to the door.

"Get ready. I'll be upstairs. Don't be long." he said. And even though he had his back turned, I could hear the smile in his voice.

*1 Hour Later*

I trudged up the stairs, still tired and slightly pissed off at having been woken up so early, I wasn't complaining though, an adventure is an adventure after all. I was wearing skinny jeans, tatty converse and a coat with fur on the hood, my hair was thrown up in a messy bun.

I reached the door to Sherlock's flat. It looked normal from the outside. I knocked twice.

No answer.

I knocked again.

After a few seconds of wondering if I'd got the right flat, the door flung open and I was greeted by a weirdly cheerful Sherlock Holmes. He was still in his pyjamas and dressing gown.