Welcome to Baker Street (Sherlock/OC fanfiction)

22. Heroes

Emilia

Sherlock lead the way into Scotland Yard after stopping off at the flat to pick up a package. Of course, when I asked what the package was, he didn't tell me. It was a medium sized, brown, paper folder, stuffed with papers and documents. I walked quickly behind the much taller detective with John beside me as Sherlock held up the package, spotting Lestrade just outside of his office. "Raoul de Santos is your killer. Kenny Prince's house-boy. Second autopsy shows it wasn't tetanus that poisoned Connie Prince, it was botulinum toxin." Sherlock spoke and walked up to Lestrade, handing him the package. Lestrade looked back and forth between Sherlock and the package as Sherlock leaned closer, his voice going quieter, yet deeper and more intimidating. "We've been here before. Carl Powers. Tut-tut. Our bomber's repeated himself."

I stood beside John, confused to all hell what he was going on about, watching and listening to their conversation unfold. "So how'd he do it?" Lestrade asked.

"Botox injection." Sherlock said simply, as if it was obvious to everyone in the room.

Greg frowned just slightly. "Botox?"

Sherlock rolled his eyes and let out a sigh as he stood up taller. "Botox is a diluted form of botulinum. Among other things, Raoul de Santos was employed to give Connie her regular facial injections. My contact at the home office gave me the complete records of Raoul's internet purchases." He went on to explain. So Sherlock had to have known this all before John and I went to Kenny Prince's household. On one hand, we looked like fools, and on the other, a poor, blind old-woman was strapped up in a bomb for hours, terrified she was going to be killed! "He's been bulk ordering botox for months. Bided his time, then upped the strength to a fatal dose."

I glanced at John, who held the same concerned and frustrated glare as I did while we listened to the conversation. "Are you sure about this?" Greg asked to clarify.

"I'm sure." Sherlock quickly responded.

Lestrade sighed and gave a nod, tucking the package under his arm. "All right, my office." he said and walked around Sherlock, going into his office to talk with us more.

Sherlock turned and took a step toward the office and I moved into his way, putting my hand up on his chest to stop him. His brows furrowed and he looked down at my hand, and even through the pounding of my heart beat drumming in my ears, I looked up at him with irritation. "How long have you known?" I asked, my hand still on his chest and jaw tight.

"What?" He lifted one brow as he looked me in the eyes.

"How long have you known?" I repeated a little slower this time, my eyes narrowing threateningly.

I could feel his heart beating beneath my fingertips, even through his soft button-up shirt. "Well this one was quite simple actually. Like I said, the bomber repeated himself. That was a mistake." His deep voice turned my attention away from the feeling of his chest beneath my fingers.

"Yeah, but Sherlock, the hostage- the old woman, she's been there all this time!" John joined in. Realizing he was still there too, I quickly dropped my hand to my side, my fingers itching to feel his chest again, to feel his heart beating beneath my touch.

"I knew I could save her." Sherlock snapped, leaning closer to John as he spoke quietly, yet harshly. "I also knew that the bomber had given us twelve hours. I solved the case quickly, that gave me time to get on with other things. Don't you see? We're one up on him!"

I frowned up at Sherlock. I mean, he wasn't wrong by any means, but it was still a horrible thing to do, leaving that old woman in fear for hours. He glanced at me quickly before brushing past me to get to Lestrade's office. I sighed and looked down at my feet with a frown, John pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand as his other hand rested on his hip. "Come on then." I mumbled and turned around, going into the office with John.