Kat Got Your Tongue? (Sherlock X OC) ~BOOK 1~

Chapter 6

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After a few minutes of silence in the cab where Sherlock is on his phone the whole time, he feels John's eyes on his so he puts his phone down and speaks up. "Okay, you've got questions."

"Yeah, where are we going?" John asks.

"Crime scene. Next?" Sherlock replies easily.

"Who are you? What do you do?"

"What do you think?" Sherlock turns around and asks John in reply.

"I'd sayprivate detective." John starts slowly.

"But?" Sherlock encourages.

"But the police don't go to private detectives." The curly, raven haired man smiles.

"I'm a consulting detective. Only one in the world." Sherlock explains. "I invented the job."

"What does that mean?" John questions.

"It means when the police are out of their depth, which is always," He adds. "They consult me."

"The police don't consult amateurs." John points out. Sherlock turns to the doctor, smiles slightly, and starts to explain.

"When I met you for the first time yesterday, I said Afghanistan or Iraq. You looked surprised."

"Yes, how did you know?" John interrupts him.

"I didn't know, I saw." Sherlock tells him. "Your haircut, the way you hold yourself says military. But your conversation, 'bit different from my day.' said trained at Barts, so Army doctor, obvious. Your face is tanned, but no tan above the wrists. You've been abroad, but not sunbathing. Your limp's bad when you walk, but you don't ask for a chair when you stand, like you've forgotten about it, so it's at least partly psychosomatic." Sherlock rattles off all of the things he deduced the first time he saw John in Barts morgue. "That says the original circumstances of the injury were traumatic. Wounded in action, then. Wounded in action, suntan: Afghanistan or Iraq."

"You said I had a therapist." John reminds him.

"You've got a psychosomatic limp, of course you've got a therapist." Sherlock replies as if it's obvious. "Then there's your brother. Your phone." He grabs John's phone out of his pocket and gives it a slight toss in the air. "It's expensive, e-mail enabled, MP3 player. You're looking for a flatshare. You wouldn't waste money on this, it's a gift then. Scratches. Not one, many over time. It's been in the same pocket as keys and coins. The man sitting next to me wouldn't treat his one luxury item like this, so it's had a previous owner. Next bit's easy. You know it already."

"The engraving?" John guesses.

"Harry Watson." Sherlock says reading out from the back of John's phone. "Clearly a family member who's given you his old phone. Not your father, this is a young man's gadget. Could be a cousin, but you're a war hero who can't find a place to live. Unlikely you've got an extended family, certainly not one you're close to. So brother it is. Now, Clara, who's Clara? Three kisses says it's a romantic attachment. The expense of the phone says wife, not girlfriend. Must have given it to him recently, the model's only six months old. Marriage in trouble then, six months on he's given it away. If she'd left him, he would have kept it. People do: Sentiment. No, he wanted rid of it. He left her. He gave the phone to you, that says he wants you to stay in touch. You're looking for cheap accommodation, but your not going to your brother for help. That says you've got problems with him. Maybe you liked his wife, maybe you don't like his drinking."

"How can you possibly know about the drinking?" John asks in disbelief cutting Sherlock off.

"Shot in the dark." Sherlock admits. "Good one, though. Power connection, tiny little scuff marks round the edge. Every night he goes to plug it in to charge, but his hands are shaking. You never see those marks on a sober man's phone, never see a drunk's without them. There you go, you were right." He gives the phone another toss and hands it back to John.