It's been a few days since we took on the new case. The man had given us a few locations his son regularly went to, but of course we found nothing proving his existence. So, we are currently on our way to meet the man to let him know what we've found. Although, I'm not sure how we're gonna pull this lie off.
"Enola, (Y/n)!"
We sit at the table with Mr. Johnson. We're at a restaurant, not too far from our office. Personally, I think it's rather weird to meet at a restaurant to discuss such a serious topic. However, this man is already horrible at scamming, so he's probably not smart enough to think of a suitable location.
"So you two didn't find anything?" he asks.
Enola nods, "Correct."
"How could this be?" he mumbles.
He runs his hand across his face, his eyes begin watering. He turns back to us, "I just don't understand. He's never been gone for this long."
Enola begins to comfort the man, I look around the restaurant to distract myself. I'm really not sure how much longer I can handle this nonsense.
As I'm looking around my eyes land on a man who is looking right back at me. He tips his hat to me and makes his way to the exit. He looks very familiar, but I can't figure out why.
Right before he walks out the door, he turns back to me and smirks. It's then when I realize who he is, he's the guy that was following me.
I immediately run after him, bumping into a few people along the way. Enola yells for me, but I continue chasing after the guy.
"Excuse me!" I yell, shoving through a crowd.
The man darts across the street, walking right into a larger crowd of people. I dodge a carriage and run right into the same crowd.
As I'm shoving my way through I lose sight of him, and a woman shoves me harshly. "Get out of my way!"
I fall into the road, the loose rocks get stuck in my hands, so I brush them off, and slowly stand back up.
"(Y/n)?"
Dr. Watson stands in front of me, his eyes staring at me curiously. Why does this man always see me at my worst? He must think I'm insane.
"Dr. Watson, it's nice to see you!"
He nods, "Why were you laying on the ground?"
"I tried to move against the crowd, but the crowd knocked me right on my ass."
He laughs, "Well, you're lucky you didn't get ran over."
"I got the address, Watson."
Sherlock walks over, not even noticing me. Dr. Watson looks back at me, and Sherlock does the same.
"(Y/n)! Why did you run off?!" Enola yells, joining the three of us.
"I was chasing someone," I reply.
Enola's eyebrows furrow in confusion, "Who were you chasing?"
Sherlock tilts his head, his eyes staring right back into my own. He's reading my body language, trying to figure out what's going on.
"I'll tell you later, it was nice seeing you two!" I say quickly, dragging Enola away.
Sherlock follows us, "Where are you two going?"
"Back to our office, " Enola answers.
"Mind if we come with?" he asks.
Enola smiles, "Of course you two can come."
Great.
~~°°••°°~~
The four of us make it to the office, Enola and I sit at our desks, while the two men look around.
"Your desk is a mess," Sherlock says to me.
I roll my eyes, "It's no worse than your own."
He grabs a stack of papers off my desk and looks through them.
"Hey!" I yell, trying to take them back.
He holds them up higher so I can't reach.
"Really? Aren't you too old to be acting like this?" I ask.
He ignores me and reads the papers, "Are these for your new book?"
He hands the papers back to me and I nod. "Yes, I'll be turning them in tomorrow."
"Sherlock tells me you two have an interesting case," says Dr. Watson.
Enola nods, "Yes we do, but I think we'll be finishing it soon."
"Yeah we thought it'd be fun but the scammer is boring," I say with a shrug.
"So you'll be moving on then?" Sherlock asks.
"Yep."
He nods at me, "Good."
"It was nice seeing you two, but we must work on our own case now," Dr. Watson says.
Enola and I walk them out of the office, and once they're far enough away we immediately begin talking.
"Why does your brother insist on randomly dropping by and snooping around our office?"
"Probably because he's socially awkward and only has one friend," Enola replies.
She walks back to her desk, but I stand in the doorway, watching Sherlock walk away.
He even walks beautifully.
I shake my head and step away from the door.
Why must this man plague my thoughts? It seems that the more I try not to think of him, the more I end up thinking about him.
"You okay?"
I look up to see Enola smirking at me. She definitely saw me staring at her brother.
"Yeah, I'm good."
~~°°••°°~~
Tewkesbury had decided that it would be fun for the three of us to go get drinks. So, here we are, sitting in a fancy bar, surrounded by a bunch of rich men with weird beards.
"Is it a rule for rich men to look so stupid?"
Tewkesbury elbows me, "You can't just say stuff like that, someone could hear you."
Enola and I look at each other and shrug. Tewkesbury worries too much about his image.
Tewkesbury suddenly chokes on his drink, Enola begins to pat his back roughly, and I laugh. However, I notice that Tewkesbury's eyes are focused on something behind me.
I turn around to look and instantly regret it.
There sitting by the door is Sherlock Holmes and a woman in an expensive gown. She's staring at him with adoring eyes, and he's resting his arm on the back of her chair.
I turn back around and see Tewkesbury and Enola looking at me with sad eyes.
"What?" I ask, already knowing the answer.
Tewkesbury shakes his head, his eyes glaring at the man behind me. "He's obviously drunk, he probably doesn't even know the woman sitting with him."
"It's none of our business."
"I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."
I roll my eyes, "Why? You think I care who your brother sits with?"
"Enola!"
"Shit," Enola mumbles.
A very drunk Sherlock stumbles over to our table, "What are you doing here?"
"Having a drink," Enola responds.
Sherlock looks at Tewkesbury, then at me. His blue eyes soften the second our eyes meet, it looks as though he's regretful. But, as I've said before. I do not care.
He pulls his arm away from the giggling woman, causing her to frown before storming off. Sherlock drops himself into the empty seat beside me, I try my hardest not to look at him, but of course I fail.
"Nice lipstick, Sherlock. Although I didn't think you'd be fond of pink," I say, gesturing to the smeared lipstick all over his face and neck.
It's almost as if all the alcohol had left his body, because he instantly began wiping the lipstick off and apologizing.
"Wild night?" Enola asks.
"I don't even remember drinking," Sherlock says.
"Men," I mumble, before downing the rest of my beer.
Tewkesbury's eyes widen at me, "How on Earth did you do that? That was a lot of beer!"
"Just one of the many things I've learned while having an alcoholic father."
I gather my stuff and stand up, "I had fun, but I am exhausted. I'll see you guys later."
They nod and we say our goodbyes, then I quickly make my way out of the bar.
Tears build up in my eyes and I laugh to myself. Here I am, crying over Sherlock Holmes again. When will this shit end?