Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 4

Hello everyone, quite A/N to say that I've decided to keep all of the chapters pretty short so that I can do more of them because I feel like this story would be too short otherwise.

Anyways, enjoy the chapter!

A few moments later the kettle had finished boiling and everyone had joined me, even Lestrade.

"Shouldn't you be at the station filling out paperwork for psycho face?" I questioned

"I'll do it in the morning." Greg replied.

"Ha! Typical police. Too lazy to do things right away. You're reeeeally helping the reputation Greg." I snickered sarcastically. With that Lestrade left swiftly, "Was it something I said?" Mrs Hudson gave me a strange look but Sherlock and John just laughed.  For the rest of the night me, John and Mrs Hudson sat having a nice chat whilst Sherlock worked on a case. There were regular intervals where Sherlock asked a question and either me or John answered. Life here was going to be good. I could tell.

I went in early the next day as I'd promised. It was Friday so I was looking forward to my weekend off.

"You know you really didn't have to come in early, dear." Mrs Hudson spoke as she took a stack of dirty plates into the kitchen to be washed

"I felt like I owed it to you, I did wreck the place last night and this is the least I could do." I replied and gave a customer his change,

"That's true but you saved my life," I smiled in her direction, "That's why I'm giving you next week off."

"What?!" I couldn't possibly-"

"Of course you can."

"But how will you cope with just you and Steve here?"

"The same way we coped before you came along." Mrs Hudson chuckled

"Are you absolutely sure?" I questioned as I took another order

"Yes dear. Besides, Sherlock was asking to see you this morning. He didn't stop until I left to come here." Sherlock was asking to see me? I wonder what he could possibly want me for.

"Well tell him that I'll come round on Sunday. I need to have at least one days rest before I get into whatever shenanigans he has lined up." we laughed at my remark

"I'll let him know." she said in between laughs.

The rest of my shift went by like lightning and as soon as I got home I put on my pyjamas, made myself a lovely cup of tea, flopped onto my incredibly spongy sofa and put on a good chick flick. Friends with benefits is always a winner. Even though it was only August it was beginning to get colder and I could feel the nip of the looming autumn so I paused my movie to grab my fluffy maroon blanket. Just as my bum touched the sofa cushion my mobile rang. Groaning inwardly, I checked the caller I.D. It wasn't a number that was already in my phone, nor was it one that I recognised. Warily, I answered it.

"Hello?" I asked. The voice that greeted me then was one I recognised even after only one night of knowing him.

"Hello Sarah Cook."

"Well, hello Sherlock Holmes!" I replied cheerily

"I assume Mrs Hudson told you that I wanted to see you"

"Yes, hasn't she told you that I said I'd come over on Sunday?"

"No, was she supposed to?" Sherlock sounded confused

"Yes. At least she said she would."

"Mrs Hudson always forgets things. She forgot to give me my post once. I ordered some body parts so that I could do an experiment for a case but by the time she realised what she'd done, or rather didn't do, they'd gone off. I had to order an entire new batch." I giggled, shuddering at the thought of gone off limbs, as he complained. There was something oddly charming about Mr Holmes.

"I'm more interested in how you magically have my number."

"Mrs Hudson has it in her phone book. I was looking for someone else's number when I found it,"

I laughed again "So you took it upon yourself to call me?"

"Pretty much, yes." Sherlock joined in the laughter this time; his was less of a laugh, more of a throaty chuckle.

"So," I ended our laughter, "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"Which do you prefer: disappearances or murders?"

"Excuse me?"

"I'm asking you about your crime preference, is that not a normal thing to ask?" he sounded extremely confused and, through both mine and his not-yet-closed curtains, I could faintly see his eyebrows furrow as he scrolled on his laptop

"Not really."

"Oh. Right..." Sherlock trailed off with disappointment tainting his velvety voice

"But since you asked I prefer disappearances. I've had one too many murders in my life time." my mind drifted back to when I was seven, my Father's funeral.

"What do you mean?" I saw him sit up straight in his seat

"My... My Dad was murdered, stabbed to death, when I was six. It was the twenty-seventh of July, the day before my birthday." it was hard to open up to people about this but, like my therapist said to me, it was better to tell people than to keep it locked up inside.

"Oh. I'm sorry Sarah." Sherlock sounded sincere.

Just then I heard (and saw) John shuffle into the flat and say "What? Did you just say sorry? Who the hell are you talking to? You never say sorry to anyone." the doctor said. Sherlock went on to relay what I had just said to John who froze to the spot as he spoke. "Oh," John said, "Right.". Awkward silence ensued and after a while Sherlock said "I'll, uh, see you on Sunday." and hung up.

John had told me all about Sherlock last night and he said that he was a sociopath, but after the conversation that I'd just had with him I wondered if he really was a sociopath or if it was just a cover up for something deeper?