Lets Play A Game - Sherlock Fanfiction [Sequel to IBIY]

Chapter twenty eight - Ghosts.

I woke up a few hours later. I checked the time, it was 22:15 PM. I slept through the whole afternoon which was good, as I didn't really feel as tired anymore, but then it also meant that I probably won't sleep through the night. I climbed out of bed and walked out my room, noticing that the only company I had again was Chester. I walk into the kitchen and saw a note on the counter. It read:

There's been another murder. I'll be back soon, the police and Mrs Hudson are downstairs if you need anything. - SH.

I wasn't sure when he left the note, but I'm sure he would be back soon. I started to feel jealous that he got to go to a crime scene, he knows how I've grown to love working for the police force (even though we didn't get paid.) I never expected to love doing what we do, but I do. I love the rush of adrenaline I feel and how proud I feel when we solve a case. It's something I have gotten used to.

I sigh, and open the fridge, moving Sherlock's bowl of dead flies that were put there when he was doing an experiment, which he had put on hold since this case came along. I grab the carton of orange juice and pout some into my glass before going into the living room, turning on the TV and sitting down on the sofa next to Chester.

I think sleep did help my memory. I remember a voice, a few words. I think he said 'Do you trust me?' and I moderately remember nodding my head helplessly before he kissed me. I closed my eyes as the memories flooded back, I couldn't remember everything, but I remembered lazily kissing back as a natural instinct. Which is probably why he drugged his victims, so it made them drunk-like and vunlnerable, agreeing to anything he said. But I also remember he didn't do anything else other than that, I think. Because I can't remember anything else but being kneed in the stomach and than kicked before everything went blank. 

I wouldn't tell Sherlock about the kissing event, obviously, but I'd tell him about his voice. I couldn't remember what he looked like, but his voice sounded ordinary. Deep, but not as deep as Sherlock's, and familiar.

I remembered his voice, but not his face.

I hear a growl, and look down at Chester. He was gritting his teeth together and growling, his eyes wide. I shushed him, knowing he growled at the most stupidest of things. He even barks at people as he stares at them through the window while they're walking down the street. He stands up and barks, still staying next to me. I quickly act, knowing Mrs Hudson would kill me If Chester kept on barking, "Chester!"

"You should pay attention to your dog," A voice speaks, and I freeze, remembering the voice immediately, "They say that dogs can see ghosts."