Can't Stay Away (BBC Sherlock) -2-

4. The Headline

Bayley must not have gotten a call, because I could hear him breathing beside me. Sunlight spread through the bedroom, past the curtains. I pulled myself over the edge of the bed long enough to retrieve my iPod. I opened Safari and searched through my dad's blog. Hey, if I was waiting for Bay to get up, I might as well read another entry, even though it may bring me to tears.

I found a short post titled A Strange Meeting. I skimmed. It wasn't much, only that my dad had run into an old schoolmate. It only got interesting when I read the lines, The man knew who I was. Somehow he knew everything about me. Somehow, Dad's old schoolmate knew of Sherlock, as he'd found someone in a similar situation like my dad was in.

I couldn't help but smile as I read the last few bits of the post. Dad was saying how awful Sherlock was, yet he was strangely likeable and charming. I snorted a laugh. So that's how it all started. I chewed on my lower lip, daring myself to read more.

I got a little more insight when I read the post titled My new flatmate. I shook my head as I read how Dad called Sherlock a lot of negative words but claimed he wasn't all that bad because he knew a few nice restaurants. This post was short, like the previous one I'd read. Once I finished, I found the next post, hoping it would be an actual case and not a summary of one.

I indulged myself in reading their first case together, A Study in Pink. Now this was interesting. I had to keep blinking my eyes so that they didn't tire out when reading. I scrolled carefully so as to not miss anything important. Figures Sherlock invented the job of consulting detective, I mused when I read that part in the post.

It was fascinating, to read how my dad became a part of something he never expected to.

Like a good mystery-thriller book, the culprit was someone you would have never expected. Behind the serial suicides was a dying taxi driver. He'd made it a game with his victims, giving them the choice between two pills—one good, one bad—or the option of him shooting them. It was scarily interesting.

It's a shame, though, that people like this taxi driver existed in this world.

A shiver rippled down my spine when the name Moriarty came into the post. My dad and Sherlock had heard of the name long before I had.

Speaking of my dad, I wondered if he'd finally proposed to Mary. He'd said he'd tell me. But what if something went wrong? What if she said no? What if there was a bigger reason behind her saying no, if she said it?

"Reading again?"

I jumped, nearly bumping heads with Bayley. He slipped an arm over me, pressing my back into his chest. I could feel his eyes staring at my iPod screen.

"I didn't want to get out of bed," I said simply. "I figured I could read to pass the time."

Bay brushed my face with his hand. "Well, you didn't read anything heart wrenching, otherwise you'd be in tears."

"I wouldn't purposely torture myself, Bay. I'm not that stupid." I made the screen go blank. "So no work today?"

"Nope. You've got me all day."

I turned around so I could face him. His fingers made patterns on the skin of my back, causing me to shiver. They moved upwards, slowly trailing up my arms. I could see a brief change in Bay's eyes, a hint of something I couldn't place.

"What?" I pulled myself closer, if that was even possible.

Bay smiled solemnly. "Nothing, I'm fine."