[sherlock] It's mine, don't move!

Lewis Corner Cafe

"It's just nonsense!"

"I'm not talking nonsense. That's how Sherlock Holmes cheated. It's obvious." Anderson held up a paper coffee cup and looked at Inspector Lestrade seriously.

Since Sherlock jumped to his death from the roof of Barts Hospital in London two years ago, Anderson voluntarily left the police station with regret and guilt, and created an amateur group organization 'Empty Coffin', the main purpose of which was to track down Xia Locke. Is Locke Holmes really dead?

After working hard for nearly two years, and after researching major and major cases in Europe in the past two years, Anderson became more and more sure that his conjecture was correct—Sherlock Holmes, the only consulting detective in the world, was not dead. , he is still living well in a corner unknown to everyone, and has been solving cases secretly.

Although their "Empty Coffin" still couldn't find clues of Sherlock's existence from the flawless case detection results, Anderson believed in his sixth sense. He just felt that the only consulting detective in the world was still alive. Everyone dismissed it, and even suspected that he was most likely to have self-fantasies due to the excessive psychological pressure of Sherlock's death.

No, no, how could he have such a goddamn fantasy?He didn't have schizophrenia!

"I think you were hypnotized by Darren Brown, right? Not only was John blatantly hypnotized under the watchful eyes of everyone at the time, but his watch time was also adjusted forward? This is theoretically possible, but It's totally illogical. Forget it, Sherlock died on the spot two years ago." Lestrade lowered his eyes, and the paper coffee cup in his hand felt tight.

Two years ago, when Sherlock was in a desperate situation under Moriarty's design, although Inspector Lestrade had doubts, he still succumbed to public opinion, and under the tremendous pressure of his subordinates and the Scottish Sheriff Gleason Against his will, he approved the investigation of Sherlock. Although he tried to release water during the arrest operation, he was still one of the criminals who killed the detective.

"Are you sure?"

"His body was there at the time, so it must be him! Jasmine Amber buried him in person, there can be no mistake!!" If possible, Lestrade would prefer that the so-called 'hidden truth' guessed by Anderson was Really, in his heart, he still hoped that the poisonous detective would suddenly appear in front of him like before, mocking the low ability of the Scotland Yard police to handle cases, and then he would plunge into the case with a proud chin and big strides. The discovery scene quickly solved the case with divine help, as if the incident two years ago was just a huge April Fool's joke.

However, he is a policeman, and the policeman only believes in the substantive evidence in his hands, not in wild fantasies!

"No, she's lying! The corpse of Jim Moriarty wearing a human skin mask is nothing more than Sherlock is not dead yet." Anderson stomped his feet indignantly, his tone urgent.

"Human skin mask?" Look, another new fantasy term has appeared!

"Yes." Anderson nodded emphatically.

"Masks, bungee cords, suspended animation?" Inspector Lestrade re-examined his forensic medicine, and couldn't help sighing: "I said, Anderson, Anderson, how many times have you revised your script in front of me? It seems that a new term "human skin mask" has been added this time, which is good, good, and finally something new has appeared. I said, why didn't I know you had such a talent for writing novels when I was in the police station? You might as well change your career."

"Detective, I mean it! Why don't you believe me?!"

"Ring Ling Ling..."

While Anderson was scratching his head and ear in a hurry, Lestrade's phone on the table rang. He put his index finger to his lips and made a silencing motion towards Anderson before picking it up.

"What? Another basement was discovered!" Lestrade's face darkened completely, he scratched his short hair irritably, and growled angrily, "Donovan, are you guys living for nothing? This is already this What day of the month? A total of five corpses were found in the basement, but you haven’t found any clues for me yet! Not at all!!”

"You said you have been working overtime day and night to investigate? People who can't find any clues deserve to work overtime!! Don't complain less, seal the scene for me, and I'll rush over as soon as possible."

"Inspector, what's the matter? It seems serious." Seeing Inspector Lestrade hang up the phone with a 'snap', Anderson's heart skipped a beat.

"What else can there be, isn't it just that cases of sealed basements appear everywhere inexplicably? It's almost annoying me, but I can't find a clue. Tell me, are the prisoners in London these days panicked? What? Otherwise, why mess with these messy basement corpses? Although it is said that the police are living on taxpayers' money, this is too much!"

"Inspector, what do you think of Sherlock's fake death I told you just now?"

"Sherlock Holmes committed suicide two years ago from the roof of the Barts Hospital in London, and he did not leave any last words. We are all among those who killed him. Respect our departed friends, may His soul can rest in peace in heaven." Inspector Lestrade waved his hand, picked up a cup of coffee and touched Anderson's coffee cup lightly, indicating that these conversations, which had been repeated no less than 50 times, could come to an end.

"I will not admit this fact, and I will definitely prove that he is still alive!" Anderson put down his glass angrily and said firmly.

"It's alright, alright, you're just feeling guilty about what happened back then. If you and Sally Donovan hadn't made significant contributions and fueled the flames, maybe Sherlock wouldn't have died."

"I know I was wrong." He has been guilty of this for two full years. If the death of Sherlock Holmes is said to be the most painful, in this world, apart from John Watson, Anderson can definitely be ranked. Second place.

"Okay, thank you for your breakfast!" Inspector Lestrade finished his last sip of coffee, put the paper cup away, got up and patted the black windbreaker on his body, picked up the leather gloves on the table and prepared to put them on, with something in his mouth The complainer said: "I have to investigate the case. It seems that there have been a lot of cases for no reason recently. It really makes people have to stop for a moment. Looking at this gloomy weather, it makes people feel even more unpleasant..."

When Lestrade complained naggingly, and Anderson was desperately lowering his head and pretending to be transparent, the live news hanging on the wall of the cafe shocked the two of them instantly.

Let's turn the camera back to before the live broadcast of 221B Baker Street

Sherlock's high-profile return still caused a sensation. I don't know if it was the information they obtained accidentally, or it was under the secret and intentional manipulation of McCoff. In short, on the second morning of Sherlock's return, the door of 221B Baker Street was crowded with people. various reporters.

"Sherlock, there are a lot of reporters here!" John got up early in the morning to make breakfast, dug Sherlock out of bed, pushed him into the bathroom to wash and brush his teeth, combed his messy curly hair, and pressed him into the bathroom. After honestly eating breakfast at the dining table, I carefully opened the curtains on the edge of the window to peek at the noisy sound of people downstairs in 221B and the flickering lights from time to time.

Different from John's curiosity, Sherlock felt a little bored, "What are they doing? It must have been something made up by Mycroft."

"how do you know?"

"This can be known without deduction, okay?" Sherlock muttered dissatisfiedly, with a knife and fork in his hand, looked down at the food on the table in disgust, then looked up at John again, "You Do you want to eat or not?"

Sherlock has always thought that eating breakfast is a particularly troublesome thing. Unlike dinner, it does not fill the stomach, and it has no important effect on the high-speed action of his brain.When he fell into a frantic work, Sherlock even felt that even eating was an obstacle to his thinking. Before meeting John, he could keep a record of not eating or drinking for three days while doing research and investigating cases. .Although McCoff has been deeply worried about his state of restless day and night, isn't he still alive and well?

Of course, these psychological words cannot be said to John, for a man who has just forgiven him for disappearing for two years and is newly promoted

For boyfriends, although Sherlock doesn't know much about this kind of relationship, he has observed a lot in reality. He doesn't understand but he can act!

"Sherlock, don't poke the egg on the plate anymore, it's about to fall apart!" John turned his head, his expression turned bad instantly.

"Oh"

"Also, do you want to pour milk into the crack in the floor?"

The glass filled with warm milk that was originally placed in front of Sherlock had been pushed to the edge of the dining table at some point, and was in a wobbly state that was about to fall.

John came over and pushed the cup back in Sherlock's face, and Sherlock turned his head away childishly.

"Be obedient, I want breakfast." John sat across from Sherlock, and said to Sherlock solemnly.

"John, these things have no effect on my thinking at all! I don't understand, why do humans have breakfast?" Just like he doesn't understand why people must form legal partners to be together forever.However, he was just complaining, and he would still swallow the breakfast made by John with difficulty.

"I don't know why human beings eat breakfast, but I know that you will eat it every day from now on under normal circumstances." John stretched out his fork to smash the poked fried eggs on Sherlock's plate with his own. Switching back and forth, telling Sherlock his decision.John has always felt that the life of the great detective in his memory is quite chaotic. Not only is his life upside down, his eating and drinking are irregular and normal, but his self-care ability is at the ninth level of disability.

If it wasn't for John's existence, then the kitchen of 221B must have become a decoration or been converted into a laboratory. The refrigerator is not used to store food but to place human body parts for research.Thinking of this, John felt his whole body tremble instantly. He really didn't want to find anything that would cause him a heart attack as soon as he opened the refrigerator door. It seemed that he needed to reset another refrigerator. He thought He Mrs. Dursen would certainly agree with him.

"Sherlock, I think we'll have to buy some more appliances, like a refrigerator."

"There is still a bed." Sherlock was dazed until dawn last night before falling asleep. He thought there must be something wrong with the bed.

John was no different to Sherlock's words. He shrugged and suggested: "So, let's go to the supermarket later?" It is good to buy all the things that need to be supplemented and updated at home.

"Ok."

"But, we just go out like this? I remember that our building doesn't have a so-called back door." Do we want to throw a hemp rope from the window and let it slide down?John's face was full of black lines, thinking why did he feel guilty in his own home?

"Of course we go straight out." Under John's gaze, Sherlock reluctantly picked up the cup, and after a few seconds, he poured the milk down his throat like poison, and put the cup back on the dining table with a sound of "thump!" , burped in dissatisfaction, then frowned handsomely, and looked at John with an aggrieved expression: "John, my breath is full of the smell of milk."

Oh he hates milk, he's grown tall enough!

John went around the table, walked up to Sherlock, stretched out his hands to gently hold his face, and moved closer, the two of them were so close that they could hear their breaths, and the scorching breath gradually intertwined, which made Sherlock who was sitting on the chair stunned. Blinking his eyes, he just raised his head in a daze. John was amused by Sherlock's rare daze. Finally, John's lips gently kissed the man's lips that still had white milk left, and his fingers lightly Gently caressing the soft and thick curly hair of the other party, as if comforting a small animal.

The unusually gentle touch made the stiff Sherlock subconsciously close his eyes comfortably, stretched out his arms and hugged John's waist, and the relaxed Sherlock unconsciously opened his mouth to respond.

The tip of John's tongue smoothly entered and hooked up to the other's tongue, touching and intertwining each other.

"Um……"

John liked the smell of Sherlock, the cool mint smell mixed with the sweetness of milk, but he liked his green response even more, like——he was the first person this man kissed like this.

"All right, Sherlock."

After a long time, the crystal silver thread gradually slid down and fell off between the separated lips of the two. John took advantage of the opportunity and sat on Sherlock's lap, with his hands firmly around the man's neck, ambiguously embracing this man.

Sherlock shook his head, just sat there, staring closely at John's red lips, his eyes were deep, and his hands were put on his lips, as if he had encountered some major problem.

"Sherlock, what are you thinking?"

Sherlock shook his head, refusing to answer as if he had fallen into frenzied thinking.

Seeing this man's performance, John was not angry but kissed the corner of his lips contentedly. Doesn't Sherlock have any experience in these things?No, no, John knows that as long as this man shows some experience and knowledge stored in the memory hall, coupled with his natural actor-level acting skills, then he can easily become the most proficient and considerate jjj in the world spouse.

But Sherlock didn't do that!

It shows that he is not the object of this great detective's acting. He has always been facing the most real side of this man, so young and well-behaved, so that John feels palpitations.

This is already good, John believes that Sherlock will slowly adapt to their new relationship, and he will give that man more tolerance and patience.

Although Sherlock was slightly dissatisfied, the atmosphere of the breakfast was still very harmonious and beautiful.After everything was ready, John put on his iconic deerstalker hat for Sherlock, and opened the door hand in hand to greet the reporters who had been squatting in front of 221B Baker Street since the early morning.

For this live news broadcast at 8:30 in the morning, Inspector Lestrade and former medical examiner Anderson, who were in the coffee shop on the corner of Louis Street more than a dozen streets away, were so frightened that they dropped their hands and were about to put on their clothes. One of the leather gloves overturned the coffee mug on the table.

"Oh, I'm dreaming l'," Oh, you should say our dreams have come true! ! "