Intrigue Me | Johnlock Teenlock

8: Solving

"Of course. How could I refuse?"

The words echoed from the walls as he ended the call, tossing his phone beside me. I watched as he stepped over (or rather on it and jumped down from) the coffee table and reached for his coat, the corners of his mouth pulled upwards into a smirk he thought I couldn't see.

"What is it?" I asked as he pulled the dark material around his waist.

"Lestrade. I've been summoned."

"Oh. Have fun." I replied, instantly feeling a little awkward about wishing he enjoyed himself around a corpse.

"Coming?" He asked sharply, the door already opening.

"Um, okay." I nodded. My jacket was already taken from the back of the door and being thrust towards me. I took it quickly and followed him along the corridors and down the seemingly infinite flights of stairs until we reached Reception, its red sign attracting attention and drawing us closer.

"I have a package from a G. Lestrade." Sherlock began, taking no particular notice of the smiling lady before him.

"Here you go."

He ripped it open, taking a leather glove from his pocket before removing the object inside.

"Is this evidence?"

"I need to analyse it later. It's to do with the Langley case. Found just yesterday with traces of soil. Could alter or confirm my whole theory. Take it up for me, will you?"

"Wait, now?"

"No, tomorrow." He sighed, rolling his eyes and pressing the envelope against my chest. "Yes, now, John. I'll be at Orphic Park."

Before I could utter another word, I was being pulled back the way we came and pressed against the wall. With nobody near, two soft lips were gently pressed against my cheek. Blood rushed to the area and my heart seemed to have stopped, along with my breathing. My mind could form no sentences- I was just stood with the wall for support, my mouth open and closing again.

"Go and take it now."

I remained in the same place when he had disappeared from sight, rushing off to the scene of the crime.

Thank you for making my head spin, Sherlock Holmes.

I finally mustered the strength to stand alone, walking back to our our dorm and placing the evidence carefully on the sideboard, away from the clutter that had accumulated on the table. I also took the opportunity to change my jacket for a warm jumper, as the wind hadn't picked up and it wasn't raining. With that, I hurried out, locked the door (and checked it), fled downstairs and left to find Sherlock.

~

The crime scene was a beautiful place. Well, as beautiful as a place can be with a murder victim lying in the centre. It was a park with a fountain erupting in the centre, surrounded by flowerbeds and brightly coloured bushes. The paths were smooth and jet black, allowing the trees to stand proudly. Their fallen leaves littered the ground, creating bright and uneven patterns in all colours. They crunched under my feet, untouched and crisp.

Apart from the lowering sun, the grey rails were illuminated by flashing blue lights and white torches begging to see more. Around each spoke was blue and white striped tape, rendering the section closed off to the public. Noting this, I stood behind it, watching eagerly for Sherlock. He should be here. Where is he? Is he behind the van?

Before any more questions could swirl around my head, a hand lifted the tape up and pushed my shoulder to guide me under it.

"Come on." Sherlock smiled, voice low, our faces close. It was one of the few intimate moments we shared in public, unknown to anybody else. I followed behind him, my eyes wandering from person to person, notepad to notepad until I met the victim. A lady with a handbag, contents spilled out, next to her. At a first glance, no blood was visible. However, once the officers had lifted her slightly, we could see a pool of blood staining the path. They eased her down, stepping away once a young man wearing their uniform edged closer.