deal or no deal | Sherlock Holmes

24

𝐸𝓋𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒

"Lyon Matchstick Factory." I read over the sign above the factory gate. "Why are we here?" I turn to Sherlock.

"It seems that my case is connected to another." He furrows his brows as he studies the area.

"Interesting..." I trail off walking towards the gate. "That case wouldn't happen to be your sister's would it?"

"It is." He takes in a breath. "Now the real mystery here is getting in without causing such a ruckus." He looks around the area, trying the find something. "Maybe I can pick the lock with a—"

Gates locked so you can't go through it. High brick walls surround the building, can't go around it. So all that's left is over it. I glance at the gate and an idea clicks in my head. I rub my palms and rub the sweat into my dress. I lift a leg and wedge my foot between the bars. I grip onto a piece of brick and climb up over the gate. I hit the ground with a thump and let out a huff of air.

"That was a bit harder than I'd expected." I dust off my dress and look up to find a dumbfounded Sherlock.

"How on earth did you do that?" He gives me a bewildered look.

I shrug my shoulders and giggle to myself. "Your turn."

He kisses his teeth before starting his climb. He stumbles a few times and makes it over. He lets out a groan of pain as he hits the dirt. I bite back a laugh as he stands back to his feet.

With his hair disheveled and in his eyes her looks back at me and says, "Shall we?"

"We shall." I bite my lip before heading for the door.

"What should we pick the lock with?" He asks from behind me.

A switch flips in my head, I reach into my hair and pull out a bobby pin. "This could work."

His lips form a thin line but he reluctantly accepts the offer. He kneels down and starts picking at the lock. A few minutes pass and he's still trying to weave it in. "This is hopeless. Maybe there's a key of some sort." He grumbles.

"Or maybe—" I twist the opposite handle and the door comes open. "—It was never even locked to begin with." Sherlock pouts at my discovery. I shake my head before walking in. "Lead the way, Mr. Holmes. Your case, not mine."

It's very dark. It smells weird. It's a very unpleasant atmosphere I must say. I pity any young woman that has to work here just to make a living. I suppose I have been blessed in the job area.

I catch sight of Sherlock studying some powder and a work bench. "What are you looking for?"

"I think I know how Grail really got Enola's fingerprints." He dips his finger in to the phosphorus and runs it between his finger tips.

Voices from outside make the two of us freeze. "Who's that?" I whisper.

"Get down." He pulls us down to the ground.

I've been waiting for this!

I lift my dress and pull my knife from my thigh holster. "What are you doing?" Sherlock squeals quietly.

"I am not about to get murdered." I snap. The doors open making him cover my mouth with his hand. The footsteps start to grow louder and louder.

He lifts his finger to his lips and slowly stands. He walks out of sight and it's silent. But just for a moment before chaos ensues. After a few grunts and audible punches Sherlock throws the perpetrator to the ground beside me and readies himself to bash their brains in.