Bookshelves (Sherlock x Reader)

14

"A real murder case!" Sherlock threw open the doors to the morgue dramatically, grinning like a mad man.
"You're the only person who could smile like that in a morgue, Sherlock." I rolled my eyes at him, glancing around the brightly lit room. The smell of chemicals quickly became overwhelming as we approached the bodies on the table ahead of us.
"Twins, murdered at the exact same time, stab wounds in the exact same spots down to the millimeter. Thoughts?" He swung around the table of two twin girls, both very pale in complexion, probably the death, but maybe not. They were identical, short bobbed black hair, glossed over green eyes, and freckles dotting the bridge of their noses.
"The killer wasn't doing this out of rage, this was very premeditated if they planned it down to the millimeter." I said, looking closer at the stab wounds. "They used a steak knife? Not the most interesting of choices for a well planned killing."
"Something simple, easy to hide." Sherlock added quickly, correcting my train of thought.
"O-oh, I didn't see you two come in-" A small voice said from the door. I turned around to see the Molly Hooper standing nervously in the doorway. Sherlock spoke about her often lately, especially when it came to murder cases.
"Just arrived." Sherlock turned his back to her again, disinterested with the conversation. "What about the timing?"
"I- uh. Well there may have been multiple killers, both planned to do the exact same thing at the exact same time?" I suggested, feeling slightly guilty ignoring Molly.
"Yes, obviously, what else?" Sherlock's voice was cold and focused. I flinched, I wasn't used to his tone, but I reminded myself that John had to deal with this all the time.
"I need more evidence-"
"Your only evidence is in front of you, you need to focus." He said more gently this time
I took a deep breath and examined the bodies again for any sign of struggle or distinguishing features.
"Was the murder weapon on scene?"
"One steak knife, no prints on it." He reported, his eyes flicking between the bodies and myself.
"What were the girls wearing?" I asked, feeling a small idea growing in the back of my mind.
"Plain dresses, matching, pantyhose, large hats, and vintage gloves. The wardrobe was peculiar but according to many testimonies so were the victims."
"Those sound like costumes." I commented, glancing over them again and then back to Sherlock. "Did the girls act at all?"
"The left one was involved with a local theater company, they were performing Romeo and Juliet in about a month's time."
"What if this was a double suicide?" It was a leap, but one I needed to take, there was only one murder weapon on scene with 2 victims with the exact same wounds and time of death, I didn't have much to work with.
"How would they have been stabbed and killed at the same time?" I was afraid he would ask that.
"I don't know, but I think we should reexamine the flat ourselves to look for any evidence the detectives may have missed." Sherlock grinned at that, the way he always does after calling the detectives incompetent, and I felt a twinge of pride in my chest.
"I agree, but first, fancy some fish and chips?"

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The street was bustling like always on a busy Saturday morning in London. Sherlock and I strolled down the street towards a food truck parked outside a hotel. Some people stopped to gawk at him as we passed, the famous Sherlock Holmes, and his female co-partner stopping at an underappreciated food truck in the middle of London. When I thought of it that way it wasn't nearly as exciting as people made it out to be; but anyone famous doing anything is noteworthy I suppose.
"Ignore them." Sherlock's voice was harsher than expected, he seemed to glare at any fan who stopped to stare at us as we continued towards our destination.
"They're just fans, Sherlock, I don't mind."  I shrugged casually, trying not to seem bothered by the amount of eyes on us. What if one of them is Rhys-
I knew that thought was a dangerous road to go down in public, and pushed it to the back of my mind.
"You're thinking about him. Stop it." Sherlock growled, shoving past a tourist who was standing obnoxiously in the middle of the sidewalk to take pictures.
"I don't know what you're talking about." I said calmly, to which he didn't respond. He was bloody Sherlock Holmes, he knew I was lying. Finally we reached the counter for the food truck, walking in that crowd felt like an eternity.
Sherlock ordered 2 fish and chips as I went to sit down at a nearby picnic table. I pulled a book from my bag, The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath, and began to read while I waited. Just as I was getting lost in the world of books, Sherlock appeared beside me.
"Heavy read?" I jumped at his voice, my head shooting up from the book's dense pages.
"Er- yes, it's very dark." I sighed, shutting the book and returning it to my bag. "Have you read it?"
"Once, a long time ago. I'm not much for emotional stories." He replied, placing a box of fish and chips in front of me. The smell was overwhelming, I hadn't realized how famished I'd been until just then.
"I can see you enjoying Shakespeare." I remarked, shoving a couple fries into my mouth.
"Many of his plays are well done, there's a reason they're classics." He commented, taking to eating his own food as well.
"What do you think of Romeo and Juliet?
"Well written, but not his best. The play is romanticized far too much now, watered down by people who haven't even read the original to realize it wasn't a love story at all." Agitation rose in his voice as he spoke.
"I can agree with that, I'm more of a Macbeth fan myself."
"I wonder if our twins would agree?" He pulled the conversation back to the murder case with ease. We talked about it through lunch, discussing the gory details of the murder before deciding to head for the flat where the twins were killed.
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As we arrived, Anderson was waiting at the door. He gazed questionably at Sherlock as we passed under the police tape towards the crime scene. The flat was a fairly large 2 bedroom, it came with a full kitchen and washer and dryer in the flat, a fairly nice luxury. The carpets were imported, and well cleaned, further proving the wealth of the twins.
"Did they live alone?" I asked, examining the pools of blood on the hardwood floors.
"One of them had a fiance who lived here as well, she has an alibi." Anderson informed me as he continued to search the flat.
"What's her alibi?"
"Theater practice, her cast members can vouch for her." Lestrade answered as he walked through the door. "Sherlock, are you just going to bring more friends on cases?" Sherlock only smiled smugly in response.
"Alright, well let's begin the full search."
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Again so sorry for the delay between chapters, I'm a very busy person, I'm going to try to be active!