Darkness Follows...(BBC Sherlock Fanfiction).

Chapter 23- All They Have Is Lemongrass!

A/N- So, I'm really sorry I haven't updated in forever but I've been on holiday... it was great by the way and sunny even though it is England XD Anywho... Enjoy xx

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Darcy's POV.

As my eyes were about to fall closed and my body about to slump onto the crate of books sat in front of me, a voice shocked me back awake, "We found these, at the museum."

I rubbed my eyes and looked up to see Dimmock holding an evidence bag up before showing it to John, I tried to sit up and look at what it was but to no avail. I huffed and leant back slightly, rooting around in the crate once more.

"Is this your writing?" Dimmock asked him and I looked up quickly once more as John shook his head solemnly.

"Uh, we hoped Soo Lin could decipher it for us. Ta." John answered, taking the bag from him as Dimmock turned to face Sherlock.

"Anything else I can do? To assist you, I mean?" He asked and I picked out a book from the crate, I flipped through the pages until I got to the fifteenth one and looked at the first word.

Flower. Really?

I huffed loudly and announced, "Actually, Detective Inspector, some silence would be great right about now." I dropped the book loudly onto the floor next to me and looked up to see Dimmock glaring at me slightly before looking at John who shook his head apologetically.

He bit his lip and left the room in a flash, didn't take him too long to get the hint that we didn't want him here.

"I'm not being funny, or anything, but when I decided to tag along with you two I didn't think that would mean us opening up our own personal library on a wild goose chase." I commented, John rolling his eyes whilst Sherlock who had just taken a book from the crate in front of him turned his attention to me.

"I thought you'd enjoy living in a library." He retorted.

I sighed at him, "Yeah, well, I at least assumed that I'd be surrounded by books I'd enjoy reading."

He shook his head dismissively and I smiled in triumph before rummaging through the book crate again. "Transition. By Iain Banks. Sherlock? Does Van Coon have that one?"

"Yes. Pass it over." He demanded and I rolled my eyes, sitting up on my knees and passing him the hard back book. He opened them both hastily and then huffs, "Cigarette."

I grimaced, "Damn." A frown on my face, I stood up and grabbed one of Van Coon's boxes so I could match the books up slightly more easily.

We searched through many more books, not finding any that matched and it was beginning to get really quite tedious. I was beginning to fall asleep. Again. What? It was verging on eleven o'clock at night and I hadn't been sleeping well. One word: sofa.

"Imagine." Sherlock announced disdainfully, snapping my eyes open once again and my head shot up as he slammed the books closed before adding them to the pile of books John had beside him.

"I need to sleep." I grumbled to myself and put my elbow on the edge of my crate, resting my head in my hand and closing my eyes.

The pins and needles were beginning to flow up my legs, the feeling in them was becoming lost to me and I knew if I didn't want to ache in the morning I needed to get up and sleep somewhere comfortably.

"Sherlock?" I groaned, my eyes still closed and I heard him hum a little in reply, "Can I go to bed now?"

He hummed again and I heard some other books slam closed, before he stopped himself, "No, wait, what? You want to go to sleep?"