Chapter 6

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You know, I wonder all the time why some of y'all still want me to post chapters. Honestly, this concept all started off as a brain dump. Just a bunch of ideas I wanted to write about that I loosely put together. I thought it was bad when I first started, and I still do. However, I gotta finish what I started. Not just for you, but for me, Charlotte, and this Sherlock Universe I created. 🐛

The Power of Love Ch. 6

"Don't worry," the detective inspector stated to the large family, "we have the best person we got doing your case."

Charlotte Lise Holmes went up to the front lawn seeing the vines still growing on the old white home and the front yard looking as dead as usual.

It was if nothing had changed. Time yet stood still as she stopped at the door, about to knock.

"Charlotte?!"

"Miss me," she asked trying to hide her nervousness with a smirk and fake confidence.

"No way am I letting HER solve this case," a familiar face argued.

She looked at Lestrade for a moment, tightening her grip.

"She is one of the most intelligent people I know," Greg stated, "it's not my fault you didn't realize the strengths she clearly has Mr...."

"Call me Hans. And she's a psychopath. I'm not allowing that," he stared her down, "in my house."

She walked through the door anyway, examining the dead body near the couch, putting gloves on.

"Let me see the knife," she stated quietly, with her hand out.

He suddenly snatched the evidence out of Greg' hands.

She looked at the way he gripped it, then the angle of stab marks.

"Arrest him," she stated firmly.

"For compromising with the evidence?"

"No. For murder."

***

"So you had to take drugs to figure it out? It took me 2 minutes and that was only because I had to actually interact with people."

"I didn't take drugs to solve it. I took drugs to get in the flat. Surrounded by idiots that family," Sherlock sighed as he sat in his flat watching Charlotte sitting across him, scribbling notes for Uni.

John came by for the next shift of babysitting Sherlock while Charlotte got an email from a professor about an opportunity for her and other scholarship winners for the end of the year.

She answered it quickly, leaving the flat, explaining herself as she left.

"You want me to what," she asked trying to be calm, after the meeting was over. The meeting explained that they wanted to push them harder than anyone has ever pushed them. To show off their weaknesses to truly realize their strengths.

"I want you to dance."

"I can't help but feel," she lowered her voice, "that you are using and manipulating me if you don't mind me saying sir."

"I'm sorry?"

"Sir, I feel like you are setting me up to fail," she clarified.

"That, my dear, is the point."

She was taken aback for a moment, until finally she understood.

"Sir-"

"Enough. I will not have this debate with you any longer. If you don't do it, you will have your scholarship taken away along with your admission here Ms. Holmes. So I suggest you prepare."

She straightened her back and stiffened.

Their was no choice in this.

"Fine."

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