Why Sherlock?

The Great Game {7}

After hearing that the woman tied up was saved and safe, we all decided it was time to rest. I mean, I'm not sure about Sherlock but I know John went straight to bed. I would've told mum about the bomber, except that it was early in the morning and she was sleeping.

With unsuccessful sleep myself, I 'found' myself wandering up the stairs to Sherlock's flat.

The door had opened even before I knocked. He knew I was coming, he could probably read everyone's footsteps who come up these stairs. Without a word, he moved aside and let me in.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, sitting in John's chair.

"I don't sleep much." Was his reply, glass quietly clinking in the kitchen.

Gee okay, great convo.

"You can't sleep either?" He asked.

"No, not really." I pull my feet up to my chest as he walks over to his own chair and sits. He hands me a steamy cup of tea. I glance at him questioningly.

"Why are you afraid?" He asks, sipping his tea.

I scoff and take a sip of my tea. "Why... I mean... Why shouldn't I be? For all I know, one of us could be the next person strapped in bombs. So, yeah, I'm a little afraid."

He was silent for a moment. "You don't need to be. I'm here to protect you."

I blush at his words but keep a straight(ish) face. "How... Do you know I'm not the bomber?"

"You don't seem the type. You said so yourself, (Y/n). One of us."

***

The boys and I are in Lestrade’s office, Sherlock standing at the window which looks into the main office, his hands raised in front of his mouth and his fingers tapping together. John is sitting opposite Lestrade at his desk. I sit across from him, tapping my fingers on the desk impatiently. I needed to sleep.

"She lives in Cornwall. Two men broke in wearing masks, forced her to drive to the car park and decked her out in enough explosives to take down a house." Lestrade informs. He looks up at Sherlock who is walking towards the desk. "Told her to phone you. She had to read out from this pager." He puts the pager onto the desk in front of John, who picks it up to look at it.

"And if she deviated by one word, the sniper would set her off." Sherlock said.

"Or if you hadn’t solved the case, Sherlock." I tell him as he starts walking back to the window.

He speaks softly, as if to himself. "Oh. Elegant."

John raises his head and sighs in exasperation. “Elegant?"

"But what was the point? Why would anyone do this?"

"Oh, I can’t be the only person in the world that gets bored." Sherlock looks away thoughtfully as if he was having his own flashback.

"Is that how your wall got damaged? You shot it up because you were bored?" I question.

He turns to me and smiles just as the pink phone beeps a message alert. John turns around to him as Sherlock activates the phone.

"You have one new message." As Sherlock walks towards Lestrade’s desk, the phone sounds the Greenwich pips again, but this time there are three short pips and one long one.

"Four pips."

"First test passed, it would seem. Here’s the second." Sherlock shows a new photograph. It’s a close-up of a car with its driver’s door open and the number plate clearly visible. John and Lestrade get up to take a closer look, and outside in the main office, a phone rings.