The Soldier and Consulting Detective

Shit

Hazel's POV

The streets of London are all a blur as I race to 221 B.

I can't believe I did that.

I don't know why its bothering me so much. It's not the first assasination I've had to do. I mean, I was a sniper in the army for Pete sake!

Maybe its because you almost got caught.

I nod my head in agreement. I was not alone in the building. The hand gun on my spare leg holster was proof of that.

Maybe its because the last time you shot a gun, you killed the wrong person.

Gripping the brake bar on the right handle, I come to a sudden stop at an intersection. I try to slow my breathing as I wait for the light to turn bright green. As I waited, a black taxi cab pulled up next to me.

Of course it had to be a damn cab.

I glanced over at the cab, but did a double take as I saw who was inside.

Goddamn Sherlock Holmes.

~~~~~
Sherlock's POV

After the whole incident at the college, I found John there, waiting patiently. It didn't take long to figure out who the first shooter was. Obviously, the shot was made by a person with experience, as the shot could not have been possible with an unstable hand. The shot was made the moment I was in immediate danger, indicating high moral standards. So the most probable suspect is someone with a military background and nerves of steel who owns a handgun: aka, John Watson.

Of course, I had no intention of exposing the man who had just saved my life.

However, the police managed to pull out a second bullet, and noticed a second bullet hole in the window, millimeters apart. The angle of the entry and size of the bullet would indicate that a sniper with very good aim had been the second shooter. However, the bullets are different.

They appear to be handmade, making it nearly impossible to track down the assailant. Eventually john and I managed to slip away from the crime scene, but not before Mycroft made himself known.

The whole conversation with him was, as always, dreadful and tedious. Anthea was not helpful in the slightest as she typed away on her cellphone.

Finally, I managed to haul a taxi to take us back home. It was, of course boring. My phone was providing no sort of entertainment when a thought entered my kind.

"John."

"Hhm?"

"Where is your handgun?" I questioned.

"Its right here in my..." his voice trailed off as he reached for where it should have been. John frantically began to search himself before he stopped to smack his forehead.

"Its in the building. I dropped it in the classroom."

While he continued to mutter about his stupidity, I rolled my eyes and texted Lestrade.

Have you found a handgun in the opposite building? Should be directly across from where I was. - SH

not a minute later did I get a reply.

No, there wasn't one there. Had the whole team search it. There was a shell there. We're running tests and background checks on it tomorrow.

I let out a scoff and rolled my eyes. Of course they didn't find it. Can't expect them to do anything right.

The cab paused at a red light, causing me to briefly look up from my phone.
Nothing in particular to observe inside the cabbie and John was still holding his head in worry about his gun. I again rolled my eyes and glanced outside to see a black motorcycle next to us.