“John, hurry up we’re already late!” Sherlock yelled from downstairs. He was ecstatic, it’s been ages since he and John had a case, and this time it was an attempted murder. His hands impatiently tapped the staircase handle in annoyance. “I’ll leave you” He shouted. John came trotting down the stairs as he was putting his left arm his coat. “I’m coming, just wait one more bloody second!” he grumbled.
You both jumped in the cab heading towards Asgard Hospital. The space was huge; nurses running about, people in the corner waiting for news, others crying. It was hectic, yet quietness filled the air. Sherlock and John start to walk up a fleet of stairs, looking for the room number that Lestrade had given them. You could hear them enter. ‘Two, maybe three people?’ you thought in your head. It didn’t matter to you of course; there was enough chaos in the room as is. More people was just more hassle. The only visitors you really wanted hadn’t arrived yet.
Lestrade, who was already here, welcomed the new visitors into the gingerly green room. “Ah finally, what took you guys so long?” Sherlock gave snapped his head towards John, giving him a rather mean glare. “Well, John decided today would be a good day to sleep in —”
“Who is this?” You interrupted abruptly. Sherlock looked at you. You looked young — eighteen, maybe twenty years old— your posture beamed with confidence, not relying on the support of the bed to help you sit up straight. There was a certain charm to you, he couldn’t figure out exactly what it was though. Your eyes were covered in bandages, yet your eyebrows said it all. Sherlock and John’s entrance had bothered you, and you were ready to integrate them at moments notice.
“This is Sherlock Holmes” Lestrade announced. To their surprise, your eyebrows relaxed and a small smile appeared on your face. You stuck out your hand. Sherlock took your hand and gave it a gentle shake, not wanting to strain your injuries.
“(F/n) Lockheart. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Holmes. Finally! Someone who might understand what I’m trying to say. The rest of the people here are...well” You turned your head to the voice of the man named Anderson. John chuckled while a small Smirk appeared on Sherlock’s face. Lestrade looked slightly offended, having been here too the whole time as well. But you were right, your case was a tough one, and it would take someone with the brain of Sherlock to solve it.
“John, grab me a chair.” Sherlock demanded.
“No.” John said with a rather mean scowl.
“Get it yourself.”
“John, the time you took arguing with me could have been spent on gathering valuable information. You’re wasting precious time.” John rolled his eyes.
“Fine!” John said grabbing the chair while murmuring words of profanity under his breath. You chuckled. The two were nothing like you had imagined. The news always glorified them, and now you could finally decide for yourself if the claim-to-fame detectives — claim-to-fame Consulting Detectives — lived up to their names. For your sake, you hoped they did.
John brought up two chairs; one for himself and one for Sherlock. Sherlock sat on his chair, shifting about until he finally found his comfy spot, then cleared his throat. “What has been the problem here Ms. Lockheart?”
The warm smile you had on your face slowly transformed into frown. Your face turned into frustration and looked towards Sherlock’s direction. You lifted a finger and gestured toward the man sleeping on the bed next to you. “That’s my friend Ryan. We were in the lab room together working on a project. Soon as we knew it someone set off a flare in the room. Two gunshots followed. After a few moments of confusion, a third shot was made. As you can see I’m still dealing with the after effects of the flare, the doctor told me to keep the bandages on for now.
“Do you have any idea of the person who tried to kill Ryan?” Sherlock questioned.
“I have some people in mind. Also, the shots weren’t meant for Ryan. The bullets were intended for me.”
Anderson marched over to your bed, tilting his head at you. “And how did you come up with that?” he asked you. “The girls a loony” he said turning toward Sherlock, slightly whispering as if you wouldn’t be able to hear his insult right next to you. “She’s been making up these irrational assumptions this whole time.” He cocked his head back towards you. “Leave the solving to the professionals, Honey.”
“And that’s what I’m doing. I’m fully explaining myself to the professionals. I only told you the basics. I didn’t want to hurt your tiny little brain” you said smiling. “By the way, your obnoxious attitude stinks up the whole air. It’s rather suffocating really. Could you be a doll and crack open a window?”
Once again, you managed to cause to whole room to fill up with soft giggles. Anderson's face automatically flushed a bright pink. “I’ll be waiting in the car” he grumbled to Lestrade. Once Anderson exited, the small giggles transformed into full-fledged laughs.
Sherlock was already intrigued with the case and now a little bit with you as well. He liked your smart mouth, especially using it against Anderson. He smiled replaying the scene that just happened in his head again. You were a firework ready to pop. You also seemed pretty sharp. He concluded that waiting a few weeks without a case was worth the wait. This was going to be fun.