In The Game of Love

four

The men exited the store in silence, Sherlock leading the way. He walked over to Y/N, slipped his arm through hers, and guided her down the alley.

"Well, John's got the ring, and I've got the address for the ginger midget," Sherlock stated, a paper in hand. John was studying the ring he bought. "Should be there."

"I think she'll really like this," John commented. "Don't you, Y/N?" He flashed her the ring.

"I think it's lovely John."

He stuffed it into his pocket. "And I have some change in my pocket."

"Should I look after it for you?" Sherlock asked, seeing John eye a gambling game. The threesome stopped.

"No, no."

"Don't give it away here."

"I have to go see Mary. Y/N, are you ready to return home?"

"I was thinking that I could tag a long with Sherlock for a little bit longer," she responded. "If that's alright?"

"I enjoy your company," Sherlock said. "I'll make sure she gets home safely. Give Mary our best." Sherlock began guiding her away from John. "And the family as well."

"Thank you for letting me stick around. I am quite intrigued with everything you do."

"It does make a considerable difference to me, having someone with me on whom I can thoroughly rely."

He pushed two black doors opened and the two entered a building. Sherlock helped Y/N up the creaky stairs to the top. He knocked on the door to the side of the entry way, going unanswered. Sherlock released Y/N's arm before pulling out his toll pouch. He crouched down and began fiddling with the lock. Y/N looked around and studied the door and its frame.

"Sherlock," Y/N called.

"Hang on, dear," he mumbled.

"There's an easier way." She bunched up her shirt in her hands.

"Almost there."

He was clearly not paying any attention to her. She huffed, pulled up her shirt, and kicked in the door. Sherlock jumped and looked up at her in shock. Y/N quickly let go of her shirt and brushed it down.

"Wow," John commented, alerting them of his presence. "I didn't know you had that in you, Y/N." He walked passed Sherlock and Y/N, into the room.

"Yeah, well, there's a lot you don't know," Y/N muttered, following after him. John didn't hear her response, but Sherlock did. Making him even more curious about her.

"You can rely on me for exactly ten minutes." John studied the weapons and traps in the apartment. "He clearly felt something was coming to get him."

"Something did," Sherlock said, walking further into the apartment. "Irene Adler was here. Either that or the ginger midget wore the same Parisian perfume." He inhaled. "Ah. Putrefaction." John and Y/N followed Sherlock into the make shift lab that was there. "Ammonium sulphate, among other aromas."

Y/N held her hand to her face and gagged. The stench was too much. Flies buzzed around dead animals that littered the make shift lab. John held a handkerchief to his mouth and nose, trying to drown out the smell. Sherlock reached into his coat and pulled out a handkerchief, passing it to Y/N.

"Thank you," she muttered, holding it up to her face.

Sherlock sniffed. "Phosphorus," he noted, moving things on the counter around with a cane. "Formaldehyde."

Y/N's brows furrowed as she found math equations done on the dirty window. She paused to study them. John joined her.

"It looks like... he was attempting to combine some kind of sorcery and scientific formula," John stated.