[Comprehensive] Jasmine became the queen bee

Sherlock flipped through the stacks of documents that Lestrade brought with him at a speed that was difficult for ordinary people, picking a thorn from time to time, and Lestrade responded with a good temper.

Only then did Jessica realize belatedly that Lestrade had made up his own plans from the very beginning when he took the initiative to send her home.

But the picture in front of her gave her a strange sense of harmony—young Sherlock and Lestrade, under the flap of a pair of butterfly wings, the fateful meeting was brought forward a lot.

"This is an immature imitator," Sherlock picked up one of the photos, "the stitches are very thick, and it's far from.... At first I was hesitant, but then I got better and better, and finally stabilized at a distance... "

He gestured with his hand, turned around suddenly, and looked indifferently at Jessica standing at the door.

Jessica was immersed in the emotion of fate, and was at a loss for a moment after being swept away so coldly, until the person opposite said in a serious tone: "Needle and thread, please."

"……it is good."

She walked upstairs slowly, and it took several minutes from memory to find a needle.

"I need to see the real thing," Sherlock was demanding of Lestrade when she went downstairs. "I suspect it was the work of two people, but I can't be sure."

"I'll try my best," Lestrade wiped his sweat with a look of perplexity. "Maybe the director can be persuaded by me, but I'm not sure."

"The needle you want." Jessica stepped forward and carefully handed the small needle to Sherlock.

Sherlock stretched out his hand, but his expression was a little hard to say. He kept holding the needle for a while before speaking, and then calmly highlighted two words: "And, thread."

"Oh, sorry." Jessica realized her mistake and rubbed her hands together in embarrassment, "I'll go again..."

"Forget it." Sherlock showed a patient expression, twirling the needle in a very amateurish posture, gestured a few times, and seemed to have no clue.

Lestrade sat on the other side of the sofa at some point, and winked at Jessica from several meters away.

"What?" Jessica mouthed.

Seeing Lestrade waving her hand to signal her to go over, Jessica glanced at Sherlock who was concentrating on dealing with the needle, and stepped on the wool handmade carpet and sat quietly beside Lestrade.

"Is he always like this?" Lestrade whispered, leaning over his ear, "and if he doesn't get what he wants, he'll look at you with that death stare and snark you hard, in a creative, irrefutable way of saying, 'You're too incompetent to be the lackey of the local police chief.'”

"Basically yes," Jessica stifled a laugh. "The scary thing is, then he always finds a way to do it himself, don't say I didn't warn you."

"My God," gasped Lestrade, "I wish the Director would agree."

"Otherwise there will be a sudden evidence theft." Jessica joked.

"Oh no no," Lestrade looked terrified, "God will help me to figure out a way to get him to nod."

He was almost praying towards the end, and Jessica couldn't help feeling sympathetic.

The two didn't continue talking, but watched Sherlock writing and drawing on a piece of white paper at the same time, seeming to be calculating something, but most of the time they were talking about the air.This scene made Jessica feel a little conscientious, and couldn't help asking Lestrade: "Should I also find the thread and give him a skull covered with skin, and now it's really worrying." .”

"Yes," said Lestrade dryly, "the scene is poignant."

"..." Jessica retorted weakly, "But Sherlock said no..."

"Under normal circumstances, I tend to believe everything Sherlock says." Lestrade analyzed solemnly, "Because he is never polite and never lies. Even if he says, it must be for your own good. If It's not for your own good, and you have no way to expose him."

"and then?"

"But you are different from others. He treats you differently from others. I almost thought you were his long-lost sister or something. Fortunately, Emma told me..." Lestrade smiled meaningfully.

"tell you what?"

Jessica bit her tongue regretfully—she shouldn't have asked.

"You and..." Lestrade blinked in Sherlock's direction, "both have a feeling for each other."

"No." Jessica covered her face and sighed.

"You're like..." Lestrade rubbed his chin, "on both sides of a door, two people want to open that door, but you know..." He gestured his two hands, making them Apply force to both sides at the same time, "Your directions are opposite, so the force cancels out, and no one can open the door."

"What the hell?" Jessica raised her eyebrows in disgust, "Did you come up with a metaphor yourself?"

"Yes," Lestrade said innocently, "don't you like it?"

"No one's going to like it," Jessica nodded grimly. "It's like a trash column in some tabloid."

"But it's accurate, isn't it?" Lestrade blinked again.

"No, not accurate." Jessica said relentlessly again, "Have you forgotten that there are many unresolved matters waiting for you? Please, officer, go to work and leave the gossip to the people who really need it .”

For example, Emma, ​​or herself, but definitely not including the person in charge of the case in front of him.

"I haven't forgotten, but..." Lestrade raised his chin, "Look."

Jessica followed his gaze and saw that Sherlock had put down the needle and was staring straight at it.

Did he hear something?Jessica looked up at the sky, pretending to have nothing to do with her.

"You," Sherlock's eyes were tightly locked here, and Lestrade, who felt that he was being called, sat up straight, "Go to the director or anyone, as long as I can get in touch with this brainless corpse."

Lestrade immediately collapsed on the sofa like a deflated ball, "God, give me some luck."

Jessica looked at him with pity, knowing that this was just the beginning of the career of the wise police officer Greg Lestrade being oppressed by Sherlock.

***

In the end, Lestrade still aggrieved and took the stubborn Sherlock to the police station.When the car started, he looked at Sherlock who was urging him silently with his eyes, his face was full of despair for the future.

He should indeed be desperate, but Jessica comforted him when she said goodbye: "When you become the director, everything will be fine."

Lestrade just showed an ugly smile, and they saw the same thought in each other's eyes - when Lestrade became the director, Sherlock would not let him go.

"Aren't you going together?" Before setting off, he suddenly said narrowly, "The way Sherlock is with you will make me feel more secure."

Jessica's gaze subconsciously turned to the passenger seat, and the curly-haired client was staring ahead with his eyes empty, as if he didn't notice anything about it.

"If you talk like that again, he will make you feel even more insecure." She finished speaking fiercely, then straightened up and patted the roof of the car, making a gesture of please.

After watching the pair of partners who were destined to be entangled for life leave, Jessica looked at the house that had become empty again, and before any complicated emotions could well up in her heart, she was interrupted by the sudden sound of brakes.

She hurriedly opened the door, and Joanna was pulling out two huge bags from the trunk, which seemed to contain a lot of ingredients.

"Mom," Jessica cried out in surprise, "you came back so early!"

"Don't you remember?" Joanna walked briskly into the door carrying the bag, "Today is Raymond's birthday."

"I forgot..." Jessica rubbed her head, trying to recall this time in previous years, only a few unpleasant episodes.

"I'm surprised Raymond didn't plan a big party days in advance this year," Joanna said as she walked into the kitchen and put the ingredients on the cabinets, "so I decided to surprise him."

Jessica followed and watched Joanna shuttle back and forth between the top cabinet, refrigerator, and counter. This eagerness to try made her swallow the words she wanted to dissuade.

"Although I didn't make the cake," Joanna said confidently, "I've seen cooking shows on TV, and it doesn't look difficult."

"Yes, indeed." Jessica encouraged against her will.

Joanna chuckled. She put down the blender in her hand and walked over to touch the top of Jessica's head, "You are the best, sweetheart. By the way, where is Sherlock?"

"He..." Jessica thought for a while, "Someone is looking for him, I don't know who it is..."

In short, it has nothing to do with the police or criminals-she doesn't want Joanna to worry too much.

"It just so happens that Sherlock can also have dinner with us," Joanna planned, pointing to the head with her finger, "There are five people in total... Uh, baby Jesse, do you know that Raymond has a...friend recently?"

"What friend?"

"It's just a boy with long hair..." Joanna's expression changed from excited to hesitant, and her tone became hesitant, "They are very... close."

"Oh." Jessica suddenly had a bad feeling, "You mean, Harry?"

"You recognize him?" Joanna looked at her curiously.

"Harry is also a clerk for 'Mr. Manville,'" said Jessica cautiously. "I've seen him in the shop."

Joanna was silent for a while, and Jessica couldn't help beating her heart.

"What's the matter, Mom?"

"Mark and I want to invite Harry," Joanna breathed out, "whatever it is, he will be our important guest."

"I don't understand," Jessica said, licking her lips with nervous dry mouth, "why would you want to invite Harry? Not someone else, such as Ollie, Raymond's hair boy, or Calvin."

"Because Mark and I discovered something," Joanna said calmly on the surface, but her intertwined hands revealed her inner distress, "but no matter what the truth is and what the outcome will be, we just want to express a supportive attitude."

As she spoke, she shook her head and smiled, and nodded Jessica's forehead, "But I can't tell you yet."

Jessica froze in place, but suddenly realized in her heart.

Raymond, you lucky bastard.

If she hadn't witnessed his hesitation and struggle, Jessica would have felt jealous.

Joanna muttered recipes, poured flour into bowls clumsily, splashed herself when she put the measuring cup under the tap.

The warm afternoon sun shone directly through the glass windows, and the flour flying in the air was invisible, but Joanna's busy figure seemed to be shrouded in mist.Jessica couldn't help but began to thank God like Lestrade, who was especially devout when encountering difficulties, for Raymond and herself.

The author has something to say:

I'm really sorry, little angels~! !Here comes the missing person_(:з」∠)_

The physical discomfort is real, and the stuck plot is also real, but it’s strange if I don’t get stuck one day_(:з」∠)_In the blink of an eye, two months have passed. In fact, when I first started the article, I didn’t expect that I could write so many words , I didn't expect that it would get more and more out of control later (T^T) In short, I have been avoiding writing essays for the past few days, and I almost feel that I should just cheat... (what???

Cough cough, of course I will not cheat, after all, there are many, many very warm replies, the author is really touched, and there is a very warm little angel (it seems to be the one who sent the blade before, I am not sure haha) School is about to start, and this comment really touches my heart.

In fact, it would be a lie if I said that I didn’t pay attention to this article, but I always feel that if I do it all over again, I can do better, some bugs can be avoided, and some plots can be handled better, but thanks to everyone’s wrong love, I stumbled It has also come to this day.I am definitely not satisfied myself, but it is very happy to have so much encouragement.

Okay, okay, the above is the nonsense of a person who is in a bad mood after his aunt left.

Please don't block my words... I promise I won't be long-winded in the future_(:з」∠)_

Finally, thanks to Lizi Baobao’s Lei X2~true, never leave~I love you~mua