Pretty Stranger...Why Are You Following Me? (Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter Sixteen

Sherlock and I sat silently as he got a cast wrapped around his leg. The doctor was finished and left to go get something. I hadn't said anything since he kissed me earlier. Sherlock sat quietly next to me. I glanced over at him. The light made his eyes shine brightly. I smiled slightly. I couldn't help it. He had the face of an angel and the brain of a genius. So why would he fall in love with me?

"Why are you staring at me?" He asked. "Why not?" I replied. "Stop it." He said. "I can't." I replied. Sherlock looked at me now too. I blushed and looked away, but he turned my head toward him again. "Sherlock," I breathed. Somehow he took the breath away from me. John walked in and I turned away from him quickly.

"Emily, I didn't expect to see you here." He said. "Same here." I muttered. "You broke your leg, Sherlock. How'd you mange that?" He asked, turning to Sherlock. "I don't remember much." Sherlock said. "Where did you go?" I asked. "Out of London, don't remember where. It was all a blur." Sherlock said, rubbing his head slightly. "Let's not dwell on that, then. At least you're safe." I said. "I'm not so sure of that." Sherlock muttered. I disregarded the comment as the doctor came back in with a pair of crutches.

"Here you are." The doctor said. Sherlock nodded and took the crutches.

•

We arrived at the flat to be met by men in all black. They stood in front of the door and wouldn't let us pass.

"What the hell is this all about?" I shouted. The men didn't respond, but they parted to let someone pass. It was Mycroft.

"I'd just like a word with my little brother." He said, smiling a fake and sickening smile. "You didn't need to send people to guard our flat." John protested. "He has to send guards everywhere, John. It's his signature." Sherlock said. "Emily, I'm afraid you'll have to leave." Mycroft told me, shooing me with his cane. "I'm not going anywhere, Mycroft." I spat. "Don't like the accent too much." Mycroft said hatefully. "Shut up, Mycroft." Sherlock said. "Nonetheless, she'll still have to leave." Mycroft shrugged slightly.

"Too bad, Mycroft. She's not going anywhere." Sherlock replied. "Very well." Mycroft sighed, leaving. His guards following him. I smiled triumphantly and helped Sherlock up the stairs to the flat. There was a file sitting on Sherlock's chair. He hopped over to get it. It was quite funny, watching him hop around like that.

"It's a case." Sherlock said. "Who is it about?" I asked eagerly. "Irene Adler." Sherlock replied. I scowled at the name. Sherlock flipped through the pictures. I took the file and threw it into the fire. "You're not solving that case." I told him simply. "Why not?" Sherlock asked. "You're just not." I stated. "I beg to differ." Sherlock replied. "Sherlock, no. I will chain you to that chair if I have to." I growled. "Would you now?" He asked devilishly. "Oh, yes I would." I replied. "I'd like to see you try." Sherlock grinned. And he limped away, John following quickly. I shot up and followed them out the door.

"Get back here, Sherlock!" I shouted. God. I sounded like a mother. Sherlock grinned and slipped into a cab. "Are you coming or not?" He called. "God dammit, Sherlock." I muttered, following them into the cab.

•

We arrived at an alley way. "What're we doing here?" I asked. Sherlock didn't say anything and John was just as confused as I was. He got out and dropped the crutches on the ground. "Give me your pocket knife." He told John. "What're you talking about?" John asked. "Your pocket knife. You always carry one. Give it to me." Sherlock said. John hesitantly handed over a small pocket knife. Sherlock stabbed it into the side of his cast and slid it down, slicing the cast open. He ripped it off and threw it to the side.

"What're you doing?" I asked. "I paid money for that." Sherlock didn't say anything, but he turned to John. "Punch me."