Chapter Fifteen

Three days had past, and it was time to meet Lydia.  I was urging Sherlock to go because that was what he had said: Three days.

"John-"

"You need to go!"

"But-"

"No."

He opened his mouth, but remained silent.  He finally said, after listening to my tapping foot for about three seconds, "Okay.  I'll inspect her house."

"God knows what has happened there.  She's in danger."  I pushed him out the door and called a cab.

Sherlock whipped around and said, "Scottie!"

"Got it handled," I replied, shoving in a seat of the taxi.  He heaved a sigh, and pouted as we drove away.

Lydia was very happy to see us. "Mr. Holmes and Dr. Watson!"

"Yes, whatever."  Sherlock said dully, and began to look all around the house.   I decided to keep Lydia company while Sherlock searched for clues.

"So, how's it been?"

Lydia looked around at me.  "Besides that fact that I could be shot at any given moment? Oh fine, I guess."

I frowned.  "Sherlock is very picky, and I nearly had to drag him here."

Lydia nodded.

"I think you should be in a home, or boarding school, or something."  I touched her hand.  "You can't just live here by yourself."

She rolled her eyes.  "If I get killed, then it's fine.  But I'm not moving."  She gazed at me, her eyes small. 

I cleared my throat and leaned back in my chair.  "Still, I think it would be a good idea to not keep you here," I said.

Sherlock came back to us after twenty minutes saying he was done.

"You're not done.  Go and try!" I rubbed my temples and closed my eyes.

Sherlock looked at my, confused.  "But I did try.  There's no tracks, footprints, traces of anything here except Lydia's own fingerprint."

"And you know what her fingerprints look like?" I rolled my eyes at him.  "Of course you do," I muttered.

Sherlock grabbed my arm.  "Time to go."

I stared him in the eye and grunted on and on about why we need to stay and actually care about the case.  Sherlock stared back at me, straight-faced. 

"Scottie's birthday is in a week and a half.  We should plan." Sherlock had made his case, and stood back to wait for the reaction.

I shook my head and looked at the ground.  "Fine."  I stayed still, watching him from the corner of my eye.  Sherlock can get away with anything.  Sometimes I watch for his skills while we're in arguments, but he is always unreadable.

Sherlock and I left Lydia, and I had the worst feeling in my stomach.  It's all going to end badly; just watch.

I played with Scottie until it was his bedtime.  Sherlock came over to me, wanting to plan his birthday party.  "We should invite this person and have that decoration.  We could do that cake and ooh! This will be his present!" 

"Fine, fine, fine.  Whatever."  I couldn't keep up with his pace, so I nodded my head, instead.

"A banner?" Sherlock asked.  "Handwritten?"

I waved my hand at him, and he started to poke at his temples like he was taking notes.  "I'll paint big red letters, neatly, neatly..... We could hang it over...there!" He shot his arm around to a corner of the room. 

I got up and left him there.  Sherlock was still rambling off random stuff when I was out of the room.  I secretly couldn't wait for what this party might become.