Sherlock Holmes: A Study in Life

Chapter 5

Hello everybody, Erica again!

Just to let you know that it is ok to like and comment on this story, I don't bite! Haha

Forwards unto dawn! (10 points if you know where that quote came from)

The Saturday that followed consisted of me laying in bed and watching YouTube videos on my laptop; only getting up to retrieve food and a drink or to go to the toilet but we don't need to go into detail about that last one. Sunday, however, was not as relaxed.

It started with a loud, rapid banging on my flat door. At first I thought someone was shooting a gun but as I groggily opened my door to investigate I was barged past by a very much awake Sherlock, who threw some post I had neglected to retrieve over the past couple of days on to the coffee table as he came in, shortly followed by an apologetic John.

"Good morning!" Holmes chirped

"Is it?" I asked feeling slightly annoyed as I slammed my door shut.

"Of course it is!" Sherlock replied, "Today's the day we start our case." I ambled into the kitchen and put the kettle on. I desperately needed a caffeine fix if I was  going to keep up with my speedy friends in the slightest today so I heaped a spoonful of coffee and two spoonful's of sugar into my favourite blue mug. Only when I took the first sip of my beverage did I comprehend what the detective had just said.

"Case? What case?" upon returning to the living room I put down my mug and was immediately grasped firmly on both arms by Sherlock.

"Yes, the case. The disappearances! The case that you chose!" I sent a scared glance to John who had his arms folded across his chest and was watching with worry from afar. "Get dressed. Hurry!" Sherlock said pushing me down the hallway, "Lestrade has the files ready at Scotland Yard and from what he's told me this is a very interesting case indeed!" his voice reverberated down the hall as I entered my bedroom and selected an outfit from my wardrobe- black skinny jeans, a tight fitting black t-shirt and some black ankle boots, that ought to do it. My mind wandered back to Thursday night when I accidentally insulted Greg. Surely he didn't want to see me after that, let alone have me hovering around his place of work. My clothing change was accompanied by a soundtrack of John telling Sherlock that he could have been a bit calmer and less forceful about conveying his greetings to me. I couldn't help but chuckle at them both bickering. They certainly went together well. Like the positive and negative ends of two magnets, they were total polar opposites yet they belonged together. I added a thin cream scarf, a thick coat to my outfit and I was ready. I re-entered my living room I finished off my coffee and ushered the crime fighting duo out of the door. It turns out that John had already called a cab so it was sat outside my flat waiting for us.

The cab ride was silent and I spent my time looking out of the window; watching the hustle and bustle of London pass us by. I tried to take in as much of my new home as possible but the ride was short and we soon arrived outside New Scotland Yard. As John paid the taxi driver me and Sherlock got out of the cab. I spent the thirty seconds that we had standing still observing the building. The entire place was a mixture of windows and metal beams. I couldn't look at the top because it made me dizzy so, instead, I became mesmerized by the silver triangular prism that spun on a pole outside with the words 'New Scotland Yard' stamped on it in metal letters. The three of us were soon making our way towards the entrance and I started to panic so I bit my fingernails subconsciously to dull the nerves. Sherlock, who walked with long strides on my left side, picked up on it and asked

"What's wrong?"

"What? Nothing." I replied swiftly

"Something's wrong, I can tell. You're chewing your fingernails which is a sign of panic or nerves but it's not just that one you chew. All of them are short which implies that you are nervous often. Also, you answered me too fast; a sign of panic. So, I'll ask again, what's wrong?". My god, I forgot how good he was. I looked at him in awe as we entered the building.

"Sherlock," John said like a mother reminding her child to use manners. "What did we say about the showing off?" Sherlock was about to reply upon entering a lift which was now heading for the seventh floor but I cut him off.

"No, John, it's fine. I actually kind of enjoy his deductions, I find them intriguing." I smiled at Sherlock and he returned the gesture. I went on to continue my earlier conversation with Holmes. "Its just... What if Lestrade doesn't want me here? I mean, I kind of insulted him and his profession all at once last week."

"You were only joking." John spoke

"Well, yeah. I know that and you know that but he seemed to take it personally."

"If he doesn't want you here then its tough because we want you here and he doesn't get a choice in the matter." Sherlock added. When he said that a warm, tingly feeling spread through my body and I smiled wider than I had done in a long time.

I've never had many friends, I just had my parents. If I'm honest, not a lot of people used to like me. I used to get bullied because I knew more and was smarter than most kids my age. Whilst others were learning their times tables, I was learning algebra. My primary school had to hire high school teachers because there was nothing that the normal staff could teach me that I didn't already know. In the first year of high school I picked my GCSE subjects and went on to take my exams without doing the classes that came with them. I passed with A*'s across the board. From then on I have tried to suppress my genius and fit in but now, exiting a rickety lift in Scotland Yard wedged between a detective and a doctor, I finally felt like I belonged.