It Started With Stealing | Sherlock Holmes

20 - I'm In My Nighty!

"Can you fetch the milk, please, Phil?...Thanks."

Phil came back with the milk and sort of fidgeted as she put the kettle on to boil. Elizabeth smiled at him as they waited.

"Um - Elizabeth?"

"Yeah, Phil?"

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure. What's wrong?"

Phil's face flushed pink at the cheeks, "Well - I - um. If - if I'm not the murderer I think I am - would you like to go out for dinner some time, Elizabeth?"

Elizabeth held her sweet smile as she poured the boiled water into the mugs, "I - I'm flattered, Phil, and you're a lovely person and not a murderer, I'm sure, but I can't. I'm sorry."

"Oh." All the courage he had built up almost left his body physically as she saw his head dip and shoulders slump, "It's okay. You're with him aren't you?" He motioned to the detective.

But at this she laughed, shaking her head amused, "No! God. No."

At this the poor man looked confused, "With the other one?"

She snickered and shook her head as she stirred the the cups, handing one to Phil, "No."

She would never dream of going out with either of them. Not because she didn't want to but because she didn't think they viewed her in that way. After all, she was a criminal they caught and was currently on house arrest until further notice. No matter how friendly they all were, she still held that thought prominently in her mind. It would never work.

Elizabeth and Phil wandered back into the lounge. Phil went to sit in John's chair and Elizabeth joined Sherlock by the desk, setting down a mug beside Sherlock's laptop.

"John, wasn't here yesterday?" She posed her statement more so as a question considering Sherlock got most things right however she was somewhat convinced that this was not the case this time.

Sherlock ignored her though, his eyes still analysing the scene in front of him, "Closer." He commanded John.

"Elizabeth's right. I wasn't even home yesterday. I was in Dublin." John confirmed.

"Well, it's hardly my fault you weren't listening."

Elizabeth muttered, "Kind of hard to when you're so far away."

"You, shush." Sherlock hushed her before looking back to the laptop but before he could carry on, there was more ringing from the doorbell. Exasperated, he turned and yelled at the door, "SHUT UP!"

Elizabeth's brow rose at his response to the incessant ringing of the doorbell. She would go check but there was always Mrs Hudson - this was far too interesting a case to stop listening to for a single second.

"D'you just keep talking when I'm away."

"I don't know. How often are you away?" Sherlock questioned.

Elizabeth sighed, "John, I don't even think he talks. I would know because I was here."

Rolling his eyes the detective continued, "Show me the car that backfired."

"It's there."

"That's the one that made the noise, yes?"

"Yeah. And if you're thinking gunshot there wasn't one. He wasn't shot."

Sherlock leaned back in his chair, fingers running back and forth over his lips as he contemplated what could have happened. Elizabeth frowned when John stated this, and took a sip of her tea. Well, there was her idea out of the window. This was an odd case.