[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

——"There are always some forces in the world that people can't bear and can't explain. It will bring too much turmoil. It shouldn't appear in this world, so your father and I are willing to protect this world with our lives. secret."

Ludwig held a cigarette in his hand, and the air outside the window was damp.

It was the wind blowing from the ocean in May, deep into the land, but still carrying the smell of kelp shrimp, oysters, and salt from where the wind first came.

She stood silent for a while.

And Sherlock just watched her quietly, waiting for her to say what he expected.

"I'm going to France, sir."

Ludwig suddenly put out the cigarette on the coffee table, and there was a small black mark on the coffee table.

She went to the coat rack and took her bag from his coat.

"I suddenly remembered that there was still food in the refrigerator when I left last time, and the lights were on... I'll go back and clean it up."

Sherlock sat on the sofa, his eyes averted from her:

"Today and tomorrow are unlikely."

Ludwig's coat-wearing hand paused: "Why?"

"Because Mycroft has blocked all routes from England to France unless you fly there by helicopter."

blockade?

Ludwig frowned: "What happened, sir?"

"A little thing."

Sherlock raised the corner of his lips:

"Fishing one by one is too slow, so we decided to cast the net, and if we want to catch all the fish in one fell swoop, we must first enclose the river and turn it into a fish pond."

He looked up:

"Are you in a hurry?"

……

"……Not urgent."

Ludwig smiled, and put the bag back calmly:

"It's the same in two days."

...Her mother said that this is a power that should not appear in this world.Unexplainable, unbearable, symbolizing turmoil.

So she's going to hide it, if she can hide it.

Sherlock may not take these things seriously.

So, what about Mycroft?

……

There was silence in the bathroom, no sound of running water.

When his little girlfriend took a bath, she always liked to soak in the water and pretend to be a dead body. If he didn't interrupt her, she could stay in the bathtub without moving for two hours.

According to her, she likes to think in the water.

But obviously, her peculiar way of thinking is not conducive to her recovery... After soaking for a while, moss will grow in the injured bone on her shoulder.

……

There was silence outside the bathroom, and there was no sound.

It appeared that Mr. Holmes had entered a state of meditation again.

Ludwig was lying in the bathtub relaxing, looking lazy, but her brain was doing fast calculations.

Suddenly, the screen of her mobile phone by the bathtub lit up.

Ludwig picked up the phone and saw that there were only two simple words on it.

"help.sh"

"..."

Ludwig immediately stood up from the water and turned on the faucet to the maximum. The sound of rushing water covered the sound of her coming out of the bath.She quickly put on her bathrobe, walked lightly to the bedside table, and picked up the gun.

Ever since she learned how to use a gun, Sherlock had prepared a small women's gun for her by her bedside. The recoil force was very small and she could use it with ease.

He never asked her why she used a gun.He didn't ask, and she didn't say anything.

but now……

Ludwig raised his gun and crept to the door.

There was no movement outside the door.

She paused, the gun was loaded, and with a click, she kicked the door open.

The muzzle of the gun was pointed at Sherlock.

He was sitting securely on the sofa without any injuries, his eyes were fixed on a point in the void without blinking, and his hands were clasped under his chin.

"Hello, Vichy."

He doesn't look at her:

"Why are you pointing the gun at me?"

Ludwig: "...you are the only one here?"

"In terms of objective material, there are two of us here, but if your second personality reappears, then there are three of us here."

Sherlock sat motionless on the sofa:

"And as your legal partner, I have to remind you that Mycroft's surveillance is on. Since he is currently hosting a medical insurance rally, someone should be sent to watch in front of the surveillance."

"..."

Ludwig slowly tightened the bathrobe that was loosened by kicking the door, but did not put down the gun.

"That joke is not funny at all, sir."

"Oh, Vichy, put the gun down, do you want to murder me?"

"I would like to, sir."

Ludwig is still holding the gun:

"You sent me a 'Help' text message, and I rushed out to save you with a gun...you sat on the sofa in a daze? Oh, sir, don't tell me that you can't get up because of a soft tissue contusion."

The gun. Swirling it around her finger, she tucked it into the waistband of her bathrobe.

After she'd shot Sherlock, she didn't dare point the gun at him for long, even as a joke.

……

She calmed down her tense breathing just now:

"This wolf-cry trick is going to go wrong one day."

"Help doesn't just mean saving lives."

Sherlock said quietly:

"Send me two text messages, one to Lestrade and one to Mycroft..."

"and many more."

Ludwig interrupted him and said in disbelief:

"You dragged me out of the bathtub just because you wanted me to text you? Sir, you have time to order me but no time to text?"

"Because I need only type one word for you, and sixteen for Lestrade and Mycroft."

"..."

Ludwig was out of anger:

"Is the phone in your pocket?"

"I'm thinking."

"Thinking about what?"

"In addition to casting a net to catch fish, I have another fish to catch. This fish is cunning, independent, and unfettered...It is not easy to catch this fish in the net."

Sherlock glanced at her lightly:

His deep eyes fell on her, like a rope passing by:

"And before fishing, I naturally have to think about how to make a fishing rod."

"...you are so leisurely."

Ludwig pressed his temple, and took out his small black universal mobile phone from Sherlock's pocket:

"Next time you'll just wait for the cyanide potassium to come out of your coffee... What's going on?"

"Inform Lestrade to surround the destination at five o'clock tomorrow morning, and as for Mycroft..."

Sherlock paused:

"Tell him not to pick people up in a car."

Although Mycroft was unlikely to lose sight of someone... it was her, and he couldn't be careless.

"You text Mycroft every day, and the mailbox is actually empty."

Ludwig turned on Sherlock's cell phone:

"Is this the traceless text message newly developed by Mycroft's laboratory?"

"It wasn't developed by him, it was improved by him, and it can stay in the phone for 2 minutes."

Sherlock suddenly frowned:

"Are you finished?"

Ludwig dropped his phone, went to the table and poured himself a glass of water:

"Ah."

No, she didn't finish sending it... she clicked the wrong number of times.

Before Sherlock picked up the phone, another text message arrived.

But it wasn't from Mycroft, it was from the bank.

"..."

Sherlock stared at the bank's text message for a long time before saying:

"What did you send Mycroft?"

Ludwig picked up the cup: "What's wrong?"

His eyes are unpredictable:

"He just turned off the monitoring, my monitor alarm went off, and he also transferred a large amount of money to each of my bank cards."

"……puff."

Ludwig put down his glass and immediately turned his back on Sherlock.

Sherlock could only see her shoulders shrugging:

"I'm sorry I was choked, let me laugh for a while... Sir, the text message hasn't disappeared yet, why don't you go and have a look?"

...Because his premonition was too ominous.

Sherlock opened the text message Ludwig had sent to Mycroft for him.

...and then he experienced an ominous premonition.

-

Recipient: mh

Sender: sh

Content: "iloveyou.sh"

……

The look on Sherlock's face was like seeing a mammoth break into Baker Street.

And Ludwig... Sorry, his little girlfriend has already collapsed at the table laughing.

"Sir, love transcends gender and blood, and Mycroft has obviously returned your love...beshy."

"..."

Sherlock put away the phone, with a soft tone:

"You're kidding, Miss Ludwig."

Keenly feeling the dangerous breath coming from behind, Ludwig wanted to run:

"Ah, the sun is so nice tonight...I'm going to take a bath again."

Sherlock certainly wouldn't let her escape plan succeed so easily.

He just pulled back lightly, and Ludwig was pressed on the sofa by him without any resistance.

"calm down."

Ludwig was wearing a bathrobe, which had been loosely unraveled after such a fuss.

While she couldn't restrain her laughter, she struggled to get out of Sherlock's arms:

"I'll explain...I swear."

Sherlock held her fluttering arms with one hand, and watched her praying like a car unmoved:

"Explain what?"

"I sent the text message, it has nothing to do with you..."

With his other hand, he had torn off the strap of her bathrobe, and the gun inserted into the strap slipped to the ground.

And he still said calmly:

"Oh, what did you post?"

Feeling that one of his hands has slowly slipped into her bathrobe... His slender fingers, like pressing the strings of a piano, slid down from her chest and down her waist.

Ludwig couldn't break free, and his hands strove around her body like a territory, and there was no tendency to stop at all.

Instead, slowly, slowly, sank into the depths of her body.

It was clammy and warm, and his fingers were cold.

Ludwig couldn't help raising his neck.

The snow-white bathrobe fell to her arms, and her long black hair, like splashed ink, was still wet. At this moment, it was scattered in all directions, and a few strands were winding on her fair shoulders.

Black, white, distinct, vivid.

A finger... followed by two fingers.

Sherlock had let go of one of her hands, slid down her other arm, and took hold of her wrist.

And his other hand was trapped between her legs, subconsciously entwined by her slender limbs.

I can't control the initiative at all... This feeling is like a canoe floating on the water, without oars, without sails, and only the waves can determine the direction.

This feeling is so annoying.

Sherlock slowly leaned against the side of her face, kissed the corner of her lips, and said softly:

"What did you post?"

Ludwig was unfamiliar with her, and Ludwig focused all his attention on his hands:

"……what? What?"

So the third finger sank in.

He easily controlled her body, her rhythm, and her breathing... Although she still subconsciously wanted to seize control of her body, he would not allow it.

For Sherlock Holmes, who has a strong learning ability, there is neither the word "virgin" nor the term "novice".

As for Ludwig, who was always on guard... except for the easy-going and docile she usually showed deliberately, she was only soft at this time.

……

Jealousy, anger.Flustered, soft.

These two are the best places to find a woman's emotional flaws.

If jealousy and anger didn't work...then he had to.

……

"Your text to Mycroft."

Sherlock looked down at her and repeated softly:

"What did you post?"

"I love you."

She didn't realize it was a trap, she just remembered and said it:

"I sent I love you..."

……

The hour hand of the wall clock clicked, and it was the hour.

……

Sherlock looked into her eyes, under the deep eyes was a vast pool of water, bottomless.

He no longer speaks, no longer moves.

He just waits.

Ludwig suddenly realized what he had said, and suddenly realized what he wanted her to say.

There was a long silence.She slowly raised her arms and wrapped them around his neck.

The white bathrobe was still half hanging on her arm.

"You don't have to, sir."

The evening wind gently blows the curtains, and the fragrance of white roses on the street wafts from the window.

She rested her chin on Sherlock's shoulder and said quietly and clearly:

"I love you."

……

How to capture a beautiful beast?

Crack the teeth, pull out the claws, destroy the nest.

What if these are all reluctant?

That's the best way to cut off her retreat.

One of the measures is to delay her possible escape.

If she does not accept tomorrow's wedding, then she will definitely run away.

So he unearthed new puzzles for him - he was her psychiatrist, knew the intentions of her dreams, he had the recordings of her conversations with Erich in the hospital, plus Mycroft was in charge of Napoleon's Chamber clean up...

Of course he spotted the necklace before she did.

Then even if she escapes marriage successfully, she won't go far away. The existence of this necklace is holding her back, and she will definitely return to France.

……

The second measure is to obtain her commitment.

She never promises easily, but she doesn't easily go back on the promise after she made the promise, which can be seen from her acceptance of his misunderstanding of her first confession.

Therefore, as long as she utters her promise, it is equivalent to locking the shackles around her neck.

……

And the third measure...

Three in the morning.

Sherlock opened the drawer, her gun, her cell phone, her dagger, her dissolver...and her assorted gadgets.

His actions didn't feel deliberate and light-footed, but he just didn't move at all.

Ludwig was still fast asleep.

Sherlock stood by the bed, staring at her for a moment.

Then he walked out of the room and closed the door softly.

... This is the third measure.

Even if you are not willing to pluck out the claws of the beasts you have captured, you should at least have regular manicures.