Eccedentasiast (A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Four ; Lucy

I sat on the ground, MV curled up on my lap as I stared at the wall. I leaned against the sofa, legs stretching out. Papers were strewn across the floor and the details of the case had been taped onto the wall. Lottie called it the "Wall of Crazy". She was under strict instructions not to touch it when I was working on a case. Pictures of possible suspects littered the wall but no one jumped out. I sipped my brandy. In my boredom, I'd drained two and a half tankards of beer, one cracked glass of martini and a questionable whisky (tasting like MV drank it and spat it out afterwards for me) but it still wasn't enough.

Speaking of MV, he was sniffing the empty glass suspiciously. I would question how he is reaching it from my lap but any cat of mine was bound to end up with an interesting skillset. Right, Lucy, focus. This case was a dead end. I tipped my head back so it rested on the worn out sofa. At that point, Charlotte walked in. Gently, as to not disturb the dozing MV, she dropped her bag on the ground, manoeuvred the brandy out from under my grasp and sat beside me with a sigh. "Long Day ?" She asked turning to me. I chuckled, "Yep." I popped last letter, not even bothering to open my eyes. "I'm being forced to work with someone on a case." I frowned and she turned to me. "Tell me it's Not Anderson or-or Donovan" I laughed, startling MV. He scrambled off my lap and hobbled towards his bed. "Not those Morons thank God, no, it's the Great and Powerful Sherlock Holmes." My tone depicted my thoughts about the matter perfectly. She smirked before tugging her hair free from her bun. "Lucy, I'm sure he's not that bad."
"It's not him, it's the fact that Lestrade thinks I need help." Her expression softened and she turned to me. "It's not that, maybe he just feels you two would work well together. Sherlock isn't actually a police officer, maybe Lestrade just wants someone keeping an eye on him." I rolled my eyes. "Great, so I'm his babysitter." I glared playfully at her, punching her arm lightly. She opened her mouth to protest but my phone rang. I frowned before picking it up. "Hello ?" I asked, hearing someone's breathing at the other end. "Lucy ? It's Lestrade, there's been another one." My eyes widened and I stood up. Charlie looked at me questioningly. "I have to go, there's been another murder." She nodded before smiling. "I won't wait up." I returned the smile before pulling on my jumper and walking out the door.

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Note to self : When in London, bring a warm jacket everywhere. I shivered, staring at the scene. It was night and I only had a jumper to brave the cold. Sherlock and John already stood at the scene. We were at a pool. I could glean from the snippets of conversation I'd heard that someone had poured gasoline into a pool and set it alight, after tossing a young woman in her 20s into the cold water. She was tied to a kettlebell and probably would've been unconscious so there would have been no possible way to escape. But there was something off. The pool, it didn't smell like chlorine, it smelt sweet, like bitter almonds. My teeth chattered as I approached Sherlock and John. "Any ideas ?" Sherlock turned to face me with a disdainful look. "I believe that the water found at the first murder was a clue, a hint at what would be next."

"You think we have a serial killer on our hands ?"

"I do." We split up for a while, trying to find a clue. I'd lost feeling in my toes and my arms shook as I gazed into the murky pool water. Suddenly, I felt something heavy and warm being draped around my shoulders. Sherlock's coat. I opened my mouth to thank him but he interjected. "This is not me being kind" he seemed repulsed by the words. "I simply believe your brain will process evidence faster once you regain feeling in your limbs." I nodded and he walked away briskly. I noticed most of the officers staring at me, but one glare had them all looking at something else. The smell of almonds was overpowering now, distracting me as I tried to find a clue that the killer could've left. Then it came to me. I ran up to Sherlock with a grin. "Cyanide poisoning !" He sniffed the air once, twice, reminding me of a bloodhound before nodding curtly. "Good work Fitzgerald." A smile played at my lips as I handed him back his coat, watching him try to hide his jealousy. I walked up to Lestrade. "Let's go find our killer shall we ?"

AN : Hope you enjoyed ;) Stay tuned !