I Can't Stand You Sherlock

Chapter 7: Is That A Bullet Hole?

Oh my! sorry it's been over a week since I up loaded. since I'm not in school right now I have three jobs and it's some times hard to upload when I want too. but anyhow here it is! hope you like it! Also Look out for the <>!

DarlaH

"Oh, hey John," I said as I walked out of my room in the early morning days later. It surprised me to see him at such an early hour, but I didn't care to ask him why he was here. It had been about two weeks since we finished my first big first case and we locked Raymond Welfore up for good.

Since then, I had been lucky enough to have no more cases, which allowed for more time to myself away from Sherlock and the department. This free time gave me peace of mind, so I didn't have to battle with feeling guilty about working for the police.

I had such powerful feelings of betrayal, not only towards myself but towards the white collar crime. I was now working with the side that I wanted no part in. But at the same time, I felt accomplished when I saw bad people stopped so they could hurt no one else. I stole millions of dollars from all over the UK, but one thing I could never do was kill. That was a true criminal and something that I would never do.

Sherlock, on the other hand, hated not having a case. He didn't tell me about it though, well he didn't tell me anything since we hardly talked, but I was fine with that. Everything he did bothered me and if I had it my way, I would always be away from him. It looked like he wasn't looking to build a relationship with me either, but then again, I wasn't looking to build one with him.

Even though he said nothing to me, I could tell as the days went on, he just got more bored with life. Once in a while, I noticed he would find other ways to keep himself busy and some of those ways I didn't approve of.

"Morning Rori," John Watson said as he took a sip of coffee.

I went into the kitchen and looked for something to eat, but after a minute or two one question weighed heavily on my mind. I couldn't help but ask him a simple question. "What are you doing here?"

"Sherlock asked me to be here."

I looked around and didn't see Sherlock around. Figures, he tells his only friend to meet him at his house and he isn't even there. It surprised me he even had one friend by the way he treated everyone. "I think he's out."

"I think so too. I hope you don't mind," he said and held up his cup of coffee in his hand.

"No, help yourself." I didn't pay for the food anyhow, so he could eat as much as he wanted and I would never care.

"So what's on your plate for today?" John said, trying to make conversation. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Every time I saw him, he always asked what I had been up to or what I was doing. I know he was just trying to be friendly, but I didn't like anyone knowing what I was doing. They didn't need to know what happened in my life and I never wanted to tell them.

"Um, I don't know, hanging out around town or something." I shrugged as if I had no actual plans, but in reality I was going to go back to the flat where I lived before they took me to prison. Strangers would have cleaned the flat out, but I had a secret hiding place for a few of my things. If those things were still there, I would have some extra cash in my pocket.

He looked at me with this odd look on his face and then said, "Is that a bullet hole in the wall?"

I looked at the hole behind me with a frown. "Oh yeah, he did that, um, yesterday, I think." I shrugged as if it was no big deal. Sherlock was home in the afternoon and while I was making lunch, he just pulled out a gun and shot the wall beside me. It scared me to death and, of course, I yelled at him but he didn't tell me why he did it, so I just left the flat. If he wanted to shoot the wall, he could do it when I wasn't there. I never did like guns.