A Study in Dance - A BBC Sherlock Fanfiction

Chapter 5

When John stepped through the large wooden door after Sherlock, the first thing that hit him in the face was the smell of fresh paint. The second thing he noticed was that it also looked like it. Like fresh paint.

In contrast to the outside façade, the inside of the university was kept quite bright. The beige and white walls were without scratches and only the staircase was made of grey metal. A long corridor probably led to the lower rooms on the left and a wide staircase to the upper floors on the right. In front of them was an area carpeted in orange and blue with a small lounge set up. A few younger people, probably students, were sitting there on the small armchairs and talking. No reception was to be seen anywhere and no one seemed to be paying attention to them.

"Which way?" he asked Sherlock and looked at him.

He had seen the building every now and then as he drove past, but had never been inside. Only a small sign that read "Floor 2-5" hung next to the stairs.

Sherlock, on the other hand, seemed to have no trouble finding his way around. Of course not. He looked briefly in both directions and then nodded to the right before heading towards the stairs.

Sighing, John followed him.

When they reached the second floor, he struggled to keep up with him. Sherlock almost ran down the corridor.

Up here, the walls were painted a bluish grey and the doors were light pine. The windows were white and old-fashioned and no one came to meet them. Probably better that way, too. John hadn't thought of an excuse as to why they were running around the corridors of a university late on a Saturday afternoon as non-professors. And certainly not as students.

Sherlock turned a corner and then stopped so jerkily that John almost crashed into him. He was a wicked look at his back, even though he couldn't see it, and then stood beside him.

They were standing outside room door 204. Juliet's room.

John had no idea how Sherlock had known her room was on the second floor.

"So actually, what we're about to do is trespass," he said.

Sherlock gave him a look.

"And actually, what we're about to do is rescue a young woman who's probably been kidnapped," he replied, then frowned. "At least hopefully."

With that he put his hand on the door handle and pushed it down. The door swung open and hesitantly John followed Sherlock inside the room.

The first thing he noticed was the large pine bed against the wall to the left of the room. It was unmade and the blanket was pushed messily to the end. The second thing he noticed was the small nightstand that stood next to the bed, on which were at least 10 books, each with a bookmark tucked inside.

John raised his eyebrows.

Who was reading ten books at once?

The walls were white and next to them was a wardrobe, also made of pine. He quickly realised that the room was quite undecorated. Not a single poster hung on the wall and no plants were to be seen either. Only a string of lights was fixed above the bed with a few photos hanging from it. His dorm room had looked like a dump.

Sherlock had gone to the bed in the meantime and was taking his magnifying glass out of his coat pocket. Then he set his sights on the bed linen and next on the blanket.

So that John didn't just stand around pointlessly, he decided to do something too, and went to the other door, which was next to the wardrobe.
Carefully, he pushed down the handle.
It was the bathroom.

A small sink was to his left and the shower and toilet to his right. On the toilet lid was a picture of a big mouth sticking out its tongue and above it the words "The Rolling Stones".
John grinned. Maybe he should give Sherlock one of those for his birthday.
There was a small window above the shower, which cast light into the bathroom and made the white tiles shine. And there were pink bottles everywhere. Literally everywhere. At least 20 of them. And that's exactly what it smelled like. He wrinkled his nose and quickly retreated. Maybe Sherlock should do the part himself. When Juliet came back, she had to air the room.

Sherlock was no longer crouching in front of the bed, but standing in front of the closet, the doors wide open. John stood by him.

He was rummaging around intently somewhere in the depths of the wardrobe, but John's attention was diverted elsewhere. Upstairs, to be precise. To Juliet's clothes. To Juliet's designer clothes. He remembered that Carrie had said that Juliet had a lot of expensive clothes, but he had completely forgotten that. He was all the more surprised now when he took a closer look at a few items.

Dior, Lauren Ralph Lauren. There was even an Hermes jumper. Jesus. That could pay half the year's rent for him and Sherlock.

"Did you see that?" he asked, looking at him.

Sherlock just made a vague noise and lifted the other jumpers that were on the floor of the closet.

"These are designer pieces. Together they're worth thousands of pounds! Where on earth does she get the money?"

"I don't know. Unimportant," Sherlock replied gruffly.

"This is important."

He rose and flashed something black in his hands. A mobile. A mobile in Juliet's closet. John's eyes widened and he raised his eyebrows.

"Is that...is that...?"

"That's exactly what it is," Sherlock told him with a satisfied smile.

"Juliet's mobile."

"But why...why did she leave it here?"

"She didn't. That was the perp. A mistake."

Sherlock flashed the screen and typed something. Quickly John stood next to him and he was astonished when picture of two girls jumped out at him as background.

"How did you know the pin?" he asked him in surprise.

"Carrie told us- her birthday."

"Yes, but how did you know Carrie's birthday?"

"As usual John you see but you do not observe," Sherlock replied without taking his eyes off the phone.

"Her identity card," he explained. "Stuck in her phone case too."

John narrowed his eyes involuntarily, trying not to be piqued, before looking at the phone again. Dumbass.

The one girl in the background was undoubtedly Carrie- her hair was even shorter in the picture and she was beaming at the camera. The other girl was blonde and beaming too. Her long hair framed her even face and matched her deep blue eyes perfectly. Without a doubt, she was pretty. John reminded her a little of a Barbie.

The phone went black and John questioningly raised his gaze.

Sherlock had retrieved a small plastic bag from his coat pocket and packed the phone in it before sliding it back into her. Then he pushed past him, went into the bathroom and after a few seconds came back out to open the door to the room and step into the hallway.

John followed him.

"Where are we going?" he asked when he had closed the door behind him and looked at him in confusion. They couldn't have spent 15 minutes in Juliet's room and, as far as he knew, hadn't found anything out of the ordinary except Juliet's mobile phone.

"Back Home," Sherlock replied and started walking.

"Back Home?", John asked him incredulously.

"Why back home? Haven't we found out anything?"

"Oh yes, we have. But not enough."