Why Sherlock?

The Great Game {10}

"John."

"Hi. Look, get over here quickly. I think I'm onto something. You'll need to pick up some stuff first. You got a pen?" Sherlock replies.

"I'll remember." Of course he would that coc-

Sometime later, Kenny is primping in front of the mirror near the fireplace. The entrance door shuts and I place down my teacup. "That'll be him."

"What?" Kenny asks.

Raoul shows Sherlock into the room. Sherlock has a large bag over his shoulder and is carrying a large case. He walks over to Kenny.

"Ah, Mr.Prince, isn't it? Very good to meet you."

"Yes, thank you."

"So sorry to hear about..." Sherlock forgot her name already.

"Yes, yes, very kind."

"Shall we, er..." Sherlock walks over to the sofa, puts down the case and starts rummaging in his bag. Kenny turns back to the mirror and fiddles with his hair again. "You were right. The bacteria got into her another way." I whispered to Sherlock.

"Oh yes?" He says smirking.

Kenny turns towards us. "Right. We all set?"

"Um, yes." I look at Sherlock, who has taken a camera and flashgun from his bag, and jerks my head towards Kenny. "Can you...?"

As Kenny leans one arm on the mantelpiece and poses, Sherlock walks closer and starts taking photographs of him. "Not too close. I'm raw from crying." The cat meows at Sherlock's feet. He looks down. "Oh, who's this?"

"Sekhmet. Named after the Egyptian goddess." Kenny replies.

"How nice. Was she Connie's?"

"Yes." (Y/n) reaches down towards the cat but Kenny beats her to it, bending down and picking it up. "Little present from yours truly." Frustrated, (Y/n) straightens up, then looks at the commotion.

"Sherlock? What's the um, light reading?"

Sherlock lifts a second flashgun which he is holding in his other hand and holds it towards Kenny, firing it straight into his face. "Two point eight."

Kenny squinches his eyes shut against the light. "Bloody hell. What do you think you're playing at?!"

I immediately reach out and rub my fingers over one of the cat's front paws. Sherlock keeps firing the flashgun to keep Kenny's eyes closed. Sherlock mutters an apology. I lift my fingers away and sniff them while Sherlock continues to fire the flashgun.

"What's going on?" Kenny cries out in frustration.

"Actually, I think we've got what we came for. Excuse us." (Y/n) butts in, grabbing the case from the sofa and heads for the door. "Sherlock, John. We've got deadlines." Sherlock and I follow her out quickly.

"But you've not taken anything!" Kenny shouts.

Ignoring him, we hurry out of the living room and let ourselves out of the house. I chuckled delightedly as we walk down the drive and head toward the main road. "Yes! Ooh, yes!"

"You think it was the cat. It wasn't the cat." Sherlock smiles.

"What? No, yes. Yeah, it is. It must be. It's how they got tetanus into her system. Its paws stink of disinfectant."

"Lovely idea." Sherlock says, still smiling.

"No, he coated it onto the paws of her cat. It's a new pet - bound to be a bit jumpy around her. A scratch is almost inevitable. She wouldn't have-"