[Comprehensive] Mrs. Holmes Daily

Ludwig took Sherlock's hand and compared his cold fingers with his own.

"Calculated according to the length of your finger, if you want to set a certain shortcut key...W?"

She looked at Sherlock, pointed her finger, and pressed the W key on Sherlock's phone.

Then, her phone didn't even vibrate, it automatically turned on the recording function, and automatically uploaded to a cloud where the IP address could not be seen.

Then... the recording interface appeared for less than a second, and then automatically switched to running in the background.

If she hadn't been looking at the phone interface, she wouldn't have noticed that she was being recorded.

... scumbag.

She put away her phone and said calmly:

"Oh...is that what you said, a trivial little function?"

Actively authorizing the recording is still acceptable. If Sherlock can eavesdrop on her life with a single button without her knowing—how is that different from surveillance?

"So I'm like a temporarily released prisoner, under your surveillance anytime and anywhere?"

She shook her phone coldly:

"If you feel the need to explain, please explain, sir."

"The explanation is that now is a special situation and additional security measures are required. When you are controlled by someone and have no chance to contact me, I can get your information from my server."

Sherlock's tone was light, but definitely not good:

"Obviously, this doesn't require you to do anything, because the control is completely in my hands-why should I tell you?"

Ludwig threw the measuring spoon into the coffee cup with a "clang" sound:

"You installed eavesdropping software on my mobile phone to control all my privacy anytime and anywhere, but you don't think you need to tell me?"

She splashed the sugar she had put for Sherlock into the sink and turned on the tap.

"The most unacceptable thing for me is that you still take all this for granted... well, maybe in your eyes I am not an independent person with full ability to act... Oh, you also said that my spirit The state is extremely unstable, maybe he is a neurotic patient, so he needs to be monitored? I have known this for a long time."

She propped her hands on both sides of the sink, turned her head, and looked directly at Sherlock:

"But this time, you have gone too far, Mr. Holmes."

Sherlock looked at the sink calmly.

In the pool, the water was swirling and swirling, flushing the snow-white powdered sugar into the sewer.

It wasn't until the powdered sugar was completely washed away that he couldn't see it, then he opened his mouth and said:

"I said, because now is a special period - I didn't want to tell you, a group of religious fanatics are lurking around us, I can't confirm their behavior pattern, maybe the next target is you... If you prefer If you are subjected to medieval torture by them, you can refuse this phone."

Ludwig smiled slightly:

"I'm so sorry, I'm so insensitive, I'm being unreasonable - so take your phone back and let me be subjected to medieval torture."

Sherlock stared at Ludwig for a few seconds:

"No, you shouldn't be overreacting like this—have you ever been watched or followed?"

Ludwig's fingers trembled very slightly.

Then she raised her eyebrows: "Stalking? Of course not... Also, this is not an overreaction, any normal person would have this reaction."

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and stared at her face, unpredictable.

Ludwig met his gaze without fear.

Then he said slowly and surely:

"lie."

Ludwig let out a "ha", and before he had time to refute, he heard him continue to say:

"You have been stalked for at least five years, or imagined being stalked. The person who stalks you is elusive, and you can't track his whereabouts—that's why you try every means to travel around without adult documents. reason?"

Ludwig smiled coldly:

"Do you think I'm making a movie? Sir, I just want to get the most basic respect. Don't give me such a perverted childhood experience."

The words say so.

And her hands, which were casually inserted in the pockets of dark green linen trousers, were tightly held together.

——She can share happiness, confusion, thoughts, exciting and ups and downs with Sherlock.

However, they are not yet close enough to share timidity, weakness, and fear together.

—five years?

No, ten years.

Counting from the time she came to this world, she has been peeped at by a shadow forever hidden in the darkness for at least ten years.

No leads, no evidence, not even a call to the police.

There is only that when she wakes up late at night and looks out of the window, or when she suddenly looks back in the long narrow alleys of France-the cold feeling of being stared into the bone.

Even if he told Sherlock, he could only get a conclusion of "imaginatively being followed" - didn't he already feel that way?So, why bother.

She leaned against the counter with her own coffee, not going to argue about it any further.

But Sherlock obviously didn't intend to turn over this page:

"Respect? If I were to eavesdrop on your messages, there would never be that one-second recording prompt - trust me, I have at least a hundred more stealthy eavesdropping methods, and I didn't use them all because... "

respect for you.

But before he had time to say it, a knock on the door sounded so familiar.

I say heart trembling because whenever this sound sounds, it means that Christmas is starting again in London this year.

Kidnapping, bombing, murder.

Feast for criminals, carnival for detectives.

Before they could open the door, Lestrade's bewildered voice sounded at the door:

"The door wasn't closed... I don't seem to come at the right time, you guys, are you arguing?"

This time, the two of them had a tacit understanding and said in unison:

"No."

It's just that one's tone was cold and hard, and he turned his back to him and began to drink coffee after speaking, while the other sat back on the sofa and opened the book without saying a word.

Lestrade: ...That's it, who believes you didn't quarrel just now?

Having said that, this is how many times has he stood at the door of the second floor of Baker Street at a loss?

"I'm here to deliver something, I'll leave right away... If Sherlock still doesn't plan to tell me what is the solution to the code of Jiro Uehara's piano score."

Sherlock said coldly: "Not going to."

"Because the case has been closed, the higher-ups will no longer allocate funds to study the piano score, so this is purely my personal interest... Besides, the upper-level people want me to tell you—the time is tonight."

Sherlock said impatiently: "Tell him that his efficiency has hit the lower limit again - obviously, I knew it two days ago."

After this cryptic conversation, Lestrade put down the bag in his hand:

"...it was given to 'Lestrade' by Mrs. Folsom when I was taking evidence in Birmingham. I think it was you... Please take it on time... Sherlock, then, I'm going."

He dropped the hot potato like a hot potato. After putting down the bag, he immediately turned around, wishing he could leave this place a second earlier.

"Wait a minute."

Sherlock suddenly stopped him:

"Given your flickering and urgency to leave, the contents of this bag must be unusual... what is it?"

Lestrade said with difficulty: "...can't you reason for yourself? Or see for yourself?"

"There are too many things to think about recently, and there is no room left to reason about such small things, let alone open it."

... Sherlock has said many times recently that he has so many questions to think about, that he doesn't have time to do experiments.

And the case has just ended, and there is no sign of a new crime... What is he thinking?Is it still a matter of distraction?

She took a sip of coffee, pretending that she didn't know who the "upper man" they were talking about was.

Lestrade clenched his hands into fists and coughed.

"Honestly... this is a bit unexpected..."

He raised his head and looked at Sherlock with pity:

"I heard that Mrs. Folsom said...you don't have a good prostate?"

"puff--"

This is Ludwig who sprayed the wall with a sip of coffee...

Sherlock looked sternly at Ludwig, the obvious instigator.

"These are the honeys she collected herself. It is said that they are useful for this... Actually, Mary's mother also makes honey. If you need it, you can tell me directly."

Lestrade kicked the bag uncomfortably:

"Are you sure you don't need to do an EPS? If it's an acute bacterial inflammation, it can still be cured... Forget it, I still have something to do, so I have to go first."

Noticing that neither of the two owners of Baker Street 221B was listening to him, Lestrade breathed a sigh of relief, and hurriedly left this, um, pre-arc accident scene.

God knew he didn't want to know what happened to one of Sherlock's functions!No, it should be said that before that, he always thought that Sherlock didn't have this part of his body.

Because he always looks sane and calm, and everything that would destroy his sanity has been completely removed from his life.

In his cold world, apart from the basic needs of eating, there is no such thing as desire.

……

Then the problem is coming.

Do I need to report this kind of thing to Mycroft...

……

After Lestrade left.

"Ludwig."

Ludwig leaned over the sink, and couldn't care less about getting angry. She shook her whole body while laughing, thinking with a sense of crisis...

—It's over, Mr. Holmes called her full name.

What the hell, Sherlock hasn't called her by her full name since the first day she lived in Baker Street, how can she call her by her full name now...

Seeing the instigator buried his face in the sink and couldn't move, Sherlock narrowed his eyes and spoke softer.

"come over."

Ludwig turned his back to Sherlock, feeling like he was going to hurt himself by holding back his laughter.

She covered her mouth, suppressed the shaking of her body, and said sullenly: "What are you doing here? What do you want, coffee?"

"you."

...It's really Sherlock's usual style, concise and clear.

But the simpler something is, the easier it is to cause ambiguity, "I want you to come" and "I want you"... It sounds like two different meanings, okay?

Ludwig silently wiped cold water on his face.

Now is really not the time to laugh... She should continue to be angry so that she can gain the upper hand in front of him.

...In other words, she hasn't seen Sherlock get angry yet.

But whether it's a man, or Sherlock Holmes, being pranked like this would be, um, unpleasant, right?

She adjusted her expression, sullenly, holding the coffee, two steps at a time, and quickly jumped in front of Sherlock.

But when he met his seemingly calm, but actually oppressive eyes, he shrank all of a sudden.

Not daring to look at the expression on his face, she put down the glass neatly and ran away:

"Your coffee."

However, before her plan was successfully implemented, she felt that her wrist was firmly pulled by the man behind her.

He held hers with his icy cold fingers, and moved back easily, wrapping his arms around her waist, as easily as if she was a feather without any weight.

The strength and direction are calculated accurately, so that it won't hurt her and can do what you want.

And Ludwig just felt that, after a while, she was pressed... on the sofa by him?

She stared blankly at Sherlock's exquisite facial features so close at hand. For a while, her mind was blank, and her whole mind was filled with his slightly drooping eyebrows and eyes looking down from top to bottom.

...No, this posture is wrong.

Why, Sherlock would be on top of her?

Sherlock put his hands on either side of her.

He bowed his head slightly, his fair face was completely calm and totally inconsistent with his current movements.

His curly black hair fell a little, and the light came down from above, and the black shadow of his hair fell into the dark eyes of the girl below him.

That feeling is like the feathers on the tail of a dove, falling lightly on the glass-like calm lake under the night.

"You feel……"

He tilted his head, his tone was light, and he couldn't hear any emotion.

"……I have a question?"

The author has something to say: Rainling's children's shoes are indeed a bug. Chun Jiu often forgets his original settings. Later, he will explain why the heroine is slow to Sherlock.

Because Chun Jiu doesn't like the strange habit of using web pages, many times, if he can't turn the book, he doesn't check the information.

For example, some French words that have been picked out by you and have not been corrected.

It's pitifully small, but it's actually common sense of biology and chemistry that is full of mistakes.

Even the very important Spanish Laspersonascaen is used directly from the unrelated lasombra, without knowing whether the grammar is correct.

So everyone is welcome to raise bugs, I like to discuss the plot with you, it is too lonely to write alone.