Soldier and his Detective

Chapter 1

The blood pulses through his veins. Pounding in his ears as his feet splash on the path. The puddles from the earlier downpour soaking through to his socks. He's catching up. He knows it. Even in the dim lighting, he knows he's getting close. Has to be. Right?

Sherlock turns into the alley, hot on the tail of the murderer. He's been working this case for a few days now and is desperate for the end. If only, he would just stop running. Sherlock follows him out of the alley onto a busy London street, just to see the suspect turn into another. This is really starting to get tiresome now. Sherlock follows into the alley just to stumble over his feet. The murderer had stopped -brilliant, finally- to brandish a knife -okay not so brilliant after all.

Sherlock has to fight. Not for long. Hopefully. Lestrade should just be behind. Back-up is on it's way. You held your own against bigger guys then him before. But that doesn't stop his nerves reaching new levels.

"You're surrounded. We know it was you, Lucas. Just, put down the knife." Sherlock prayed his voice sounded calm.

The snarl was obvious, even in the dim light. This was not a good sign. Where was Lestrade? Surely he should be here by now. Wasn't he right behind?

Okay Sherlock, think. You need to get behind him. When Lestrade gets here, he'll be easier to apprehend if he's facing the other way. You need to keep him moving. But at a distance. And maybe get rid of that knife. Yeah, that'd be a good idea wouldn't it?

"You were smart. So clever. It took me days. Days. Me," as Sherlock spoke he began to slowly circle Lucas, trying to get behind. "You got too confident though. Breaking your pattern? That was all it took. That's all I needed to find out where you were working from. Tut, tut, Lucas." Sherlock had now managed to switch places with the murderer. The only issue now, of course, was the fact that he looked more angry than before.

It's all a blur, Sherlock hits and kicks to get the knife away from his skin. The murderer keeps coming. Sherlock knows he won't last long. Where is Lestrade? Then he's gone. Sherlock is on the floor fighting against a knife wielding maniac. Then he's laying on his back, looking at nothing. Lestrade.

Sherlock sits up to see what happened. Not Lestrade. But someone is fighting Lucas. The man had managed to knock Lucas unconscious. He checks Lucas' pulse before standing and moving towards Sherlock. The man, blond, mid-twenties, soldier on leave, doctor, out for a walk, hot, hot, hot, hot. Not helpful. Focus. The man is holding his hand out for Sherlock to take.

"Hey, are you okay? He didn't get you did he? You must have really pissed him off," The man chuckles nervously as Sherlock stares at him with open mouth and wide eyes. "Sherlock, uh, uh Sherlock Holmes. That's me. Um, no i'm fine. T-thank you, that was uh, good." His voice is quiet and he has to fight against the stammer.Sherlock reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of handcuffs and walks over to the unconscious Lucas before wrapping the bracelet around his wrist and a nearby pole.

"You always carry those?" The man spoke in a light tone. Sherlock swirls around and looks at the man. His face reddening at an alarming rate. "It's okay. I'm only teasing. I assume you're a copper. My name is John. John Watson. Pleasure to meet you Sherlock." This seemed to break Sherlock out of his reverie.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, um. I'm a consulting detective, only one in the world, i help out the police when they're too stupid. He was a murderer. Got him. To be honest I don't care about that anymore. He's no longer important. Can't even remember what he did. You. You were amazing." this time it was John's turn to redden. He moves closer to Sherlock. Stepping around the man on the floor. John looks around the alley before his eyes fall back to Sherlock. Sherlock's eyes never leave John's face. His breath quickens with each step John takes. How has this happened? How have you fallen for a complete stranger? This can't go far. But why not?

"Do you want to come to mine?" Sherlock spoke so fast that it seemed to come out at once. John stops and looks at Sherlock, eyes roaming his face. A smile begins to spread across John's face as he begins to decipher what the younger man had just said.

John reaches for Sherlock's hands. "Yeah. I can if you want." Sherlock is frozen. Staring into the blue eyes, unable to believe what he was hearing. He realised that he must have been standing still for longer than necessary when John said, "we don't ha-" he was cut off when Sherlock seemingly came back to life with saying, "Yes! Back-up it's on the way. I live near here."

Before he had time to second guess his decision, he pulled John closer as he finally lifts his gaze away from John. Sherlock pulls John out of the alley and in the direction of his flat.