~~~
"Will you come?" Lestrade asks the curly haired detective in apartment 221B.
"Who's on forensics?" Sherlock questions back putting his pockets.
"Anderson. And a new girl." Greg replies and Sherlock clenches his teeth at the sound of Anderson's name.
"Anderson won't work with me." Sherlock groans turning back to the window. John, still sitting in the chair, looks between the detective inspector and Sherlock curiously.
"Well, he won't be your assistant." Lestrade says loudly rolling his eyes.
"I need an assistant. Wait," Sherlock stops abruptly turning to face Lestrade realizing what he said earlier. "New girl? What new girl?"
"You'll meet her later at the crime scene." Lestrade brushes off. "Will you come?"
"Not in a police car, I'll be right behind." Sherlock agrees at last. "More new people, boring." He adds more to himself.
"Thank you." Greg thanks Sherlock, bowing forward a little gratefully and ignoring his last comment, relief evident in his voice.
With that Lestrade walks out of the room after nodding to Mrs. Hudson and heads back to the station.
"Brilliant! Yes!" Sherlock shouts jumping up in excitement as soon as he sees Greg's police cruiser drive away. "Ah, four serial suicides and now a note." He spins around the room clearly excited. "Oh, it's Christmas. Mrs Hudson, I'll be late. Might need some food." Sherlock grabs his coat and starts putting it on.
"I'm your landlady, dear, not your housekeeper." Mrs. Hudson replies.
"Something cold will do." Sherlock ignores Mrs. Hudson's statement and rushes about to grab his jacket. "John, have a cup of tea, make yourself at home. Don't wait up!" He walks quickly into the bathroom and shutting the door.
"Look at him, dashing about," Mrs. Hudson breaths out. "My husband was just the same. But you're more the sitting-down type, I can tell." she pauses patting the doctors shoulder. "I'll make you that cuppa, you rest your leg."
"Damn my leg!" John suddenly shouts and Mrs. Hudson jumps startles at his sudden outburst. "Sorry, I'm so sorry." He adds in a quieter voice. "It's just sometimes this bloody thing." He explains hitting his injured leg.
"I understand, dear, I've got a hip." Mrs. Hudson says understandingly.
"Cup of tea'd be lovely. Thank you." John sits back opening the paper and propping up his feet.
"Just this once, dear, I'm not your housekeeper." She tells him lightly.
"Couple of biscuits too, if you've got 'em." He adds quietly.
"Not your housekeeper!" Mrs. Hudson says from around the corner in the kitchen, but John wasn't listening. Leaning forward a little, John looks at the paper where there is an article about the 'suicide' of Beth Davenport. He focuses on the small bit where it showed a picture of the other grey haired man that was speaking to Sherlock earlier. Under the picture there was a caption that said 'DI Lestrade, in charge of the investigation.'
"You're a doctor." Sherlock says suddenly standing in the doorway and startling John. "In fact, you're an Army doctor." He adds putting on his gloves and looking at John as he puts the paper down.
"Yes." John agrees standing up.
"Any good?" Sherlock questions.
"Very good." Dr. Watson confirms.
"Seen a lot of injuries, then. Violent deaths."
John hesitates slightly. "Well, yes."
"Bit of trouble too, I bet?"
"Of course." John agrees. "Yes. Enough for a lifetime, far too much."
"Want to see some more?" Sherlock asks with a smile.
"Oh, God, yes." John instantly jumps at the offer and grabbing his coat. "Sorry, Mrs Hudson, I'll skip the tea. Off out." The two walk down the stairs.
"Both of you?" Mrs. Hudson questions incredulously and Sherlock turns around walking back over to her.
"Impossible suicides? Four of them? No point sitting at home when there's finally something fun going on!" Sherlock gives Mrs. Hudson a loud kiss on the cheek.
"Look at you, all happy. It's not decent." Mrs. Hudson chastises lightly giving Sherlock's back a pat with a smile on her face.
"Who cares about decent? The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" With that Sherlock walks out of 221B with a huge smile and John Watson on his tail.
"Tax- ugh." Sherlock says getting cut off as another body runs into him, the other person falling to the ground.
"Sorry." A female voice says as she sits up. "I'm so sorry, this was my fault, I was rushing to work." She rants dusting herself off and combing the nonexistent leaves out of her long golden blonde hair. "I just-" She trails off when she finally looks up and gets a look at the person she ran into. "Hi." She breathes out smiling lightly. She was instantly drawn in by his crystal clear blue eyes that left her feeling breathless.
"Hey," Sherlock replies quietly also getting lost in her blue eyes. He was just as much in awe of her and she was of him. Suddenly, he clears his throat and they both look away. "My apologies, I, um, I wasn't looking where I was going. Sherlock Holmes." He introduces holding out his hand to help her up.
"Katherine, uh Kat. Kat Moore." She stutters out and takes his hand and he pulls her up so they are standing face to face.
The two continue to stare at each other while holding hands until John comes limping out of the flat snapping them back into reality and breaking them up. They pull apart quickly as if hoping John didn't see their interaction.
"Maybe I'll see you around?" Sherlock says as a taxi pulls up for Kat.
Kat reaches out and opens the cab door. "Maybe you will." She smirks lightly and gets into the taxi. Sherlock continues to stare after her when John interrupts his thoughts.
"Sherlock," John says getting his attention. "Here's our cab."
"Right, of course." Sherlock shakes himself out of his daze finally looking away from Kat's taxi as it pulls away. After pulling open the door he turns up his coat collar and he gets into the cab behind John.
~~~~~~~~~
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Kat Got Your Tongue? (Sherlock X OC) ~BOOK 1~
Fanfiction"The game, Mrs Hudson, is on!" ~~~ "Tax- ugh." Sherlock says getting cut off as another body runs into him, the other person falling to the ground. "Sorry." A female voice says as she sits up. "I'm so sorry, this was my fault, I was rushing to work...
