His Favorite Melody

The Game is On!

"A fourth? How do you know?" Mrs. Hudson inquired.

For answer, Sherlock simply pointed to the window without breaking eye contact with Melody.

John and Mrs. Hudson looked out the window to see blue lights flashing outside - clearly, a police car was parked below. The sound of feet thumping on the stairs caused everyone to turn their attention to the doorway. Moments later, an out of breath DI Lestrade appeared.

"Where?" Sherlock asked, deciding whether he wanted to get his coat and scarf off of the rack or not.

"Brixton. Lauriston Gardens." Lestrade announced.

"What’s different about this one. You wouldn’t have come to get me if there wasn’t something new." Sherlock deduced.

"You know how they never leave notes?"

"Yeah."

"This one did. Will you come?"

Sherlock just looked at him. He was tempted now, interested. With a quick glance at John and Melody, he made his decision.

"... Who’s on Forensics?" He asked, moving to get his things.

"Anderson."

"Anderson won’t work with me." Sherlock said, cringing at the thought of having to see the man at all.

"He won’t be your assistant." Lestrade reasoned.

"But I need an assistant." He stressed.

Lestrade sighed. "Will you come?"

"Not in a police car. I’ll be right
behind you."

"Thank you!" With a cursory nod at the Hudsons and John, he was gone.

Suddenly, Sherlock let out a whoop of excitement. "Brilliant!" He leaped right over the sofa, dashed to his desk, and started stuffing things in his pockets - his kit. Melody's head simply whipped around, following his every move. "And I thought it was going to be a boring evening. Serial suicides, and now a note - oh, it’s Christmas!" He exclaimed before kissing Melody on the forehead.

She simply stood in shock as she watched his retreating form.

Sherlock dashed for the door without a second thought. "Mrs. Hudson, I’ll be late - might need some food."

"I’m your landlady, dear, not your
housekeeper."

"Something cold is fine. John make
yourself at home - have a cuppa! Don’t wait up!" He called as he bounded out the door.

John looked after him, slightly bemused, then at Melody. She was still just standing there, a dumbfounded look on her face. He chuckled and grabbed the newspaper, sitting down.

Mrs. Hudson looked at John, sympathetic. "Oh, look at him, dashing about? My husband was just the same."

John just continued silently looking at the paper.

"But you’re more the sitting down type, I can tell. I’ll make you that cuppa. You rest your leg."

A sudden flash of anger from John caused him to dash down the paper.

"Damn my leg!" He yelled, startling both women, the younger of which staggered back and stared at him with wide eyes.
John was instantly in raptures of apologies. "I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, it’s just sometimes ... bloody thing."

"I understand, dear. I’ve got a
hip. Just mind your tone around Mel. Her father, you know..." she trailed off quietly.

"A cup of tea would be lovely, thank
you." John said,nodding in understanding.

"Just this once, dear - I’m not your
housekeeper. Melody,  come along, darling. Let's get you a nice cuppa as well."

John settled down on the sofa - disconsolate, annoyed at himself. If he had known it would frighten the woman like that, he would have been much more careful. "Sherlock Holmes - who the hell is he?" He pulled his phone out of his jacket, turned it over in his hand, and examined it. "And how did you do that?"

Meanwhile, Melody and her mother were making tea and arranging some biscuits on a tray.

"You alright, dear?"

Melody looked up at her mum. "Yeah. Yeah, just had a bit of a startle. No big deal." She said, smiling slightly. "John didn't know. I can't exactly blame the bloke." She chuckled. 

Sherlock burst through the door, his eyes instantly finding Mel.

"If you really want to get better, you'll put down that cuppa and come along with me."

"Wha-how di-"

"John told me. Come on, let's go solve a murder." He said softly. He held out a hand,  which she looked at warily.

She put down her cuppa and placed her hand in his. He smiled widely and gripped her hand a bit tighter.

"Excellent. Mrs. Hudson, we will not be needing that tea. We're going out." Sherlock said, an excited glint in his eye.

"All of you?" She asked.

"Impossible suicides - four of them. No point in sitting at home when there’s finally something fun going on!" He said, pulling Melody out of her seat.

"Look at you, all happy. It’s not decent." Mrs. Hudson giggled.

"Who cares about decent. The game, Mrs. Hudson, is on!"