Life is but a Dream... (A Sherlock Fanfiction)

*A Study In Pink: Part Seven*

Chapter Seven: Here To Help

"Is this still about what happened in that apartment?" I asked, facing away from Sherlock. My eyes found a small pink suitcase in the kitchen, but I decided to let him wait and explain.
"The case?" Sherlock asked.
"Yeah sure." I said.
"Yeah the suitcase." John corrected.

"Yes the murderer took her suitcase obviously." Sherlock said. Wait what? I thought. I mean, yeah Sherlock is weird but what?
"Yeah he took her case so?" John asked. I turned around, becoming interested in the conversation.

I heard Sherlock mumble something under his breath then looked up to the ceiling, holding out a phone.
"On my desk there's a number. I want you to send a text." Sherlock ordered John, who looked befuddled.
"You brought me here... to send a text?" He asked. "Why couldn't you just ask Aspen?" He added.
"Whoa, don't drag me into this." I mumbled, looking at John as he grabbed the phone from Sherlock.
"What's wrong?" He asked.
"Just met a friend of yours." John said.
"A friend?" Sherlock asked, his face confused.
"An enemy." John corrected, making Sherlock relax.

"Oh. Which one?" He asked.
"Your arch-enemy, as he said." John informed, then looked to me. "Do people have arch-enemies?"
"Did he offer you money to spy on me?" Sherlock asked as I shrugged my shoulders.
"Yes."
"Did you take it?"
"No."
"Pity. We could have split the fee. Think it through next time." He advised. "The most dangerous man you've ever met is not my problem right now," he said in a low voice then practically shouted, "On my desk the number."

"You do it Aspen then instead of standing there." John muttered and handed me my phone. I walked over to the desk and started typing in the number as I leaned on the table with my right hand.
"Is she doing it?" Sherlock asked, noticing that I was doing it.
"Yeah." I said.
"Have you done it?" He asked, his voice impatient.
"Hold on! God..." I said.

"Okay. These words exactly: What happened at Lauriston Gardens? I must have blacked out. Twenty-Two Northumberland Street. Please come." He recited.
I typed in what he said, but was stuck on Lauriston... How did you spell that?
"How do you spell Lauriston?" I asked.
"And you blacked out?" John added.
"What? No! No." Sherlock said, his voice frustrated as he got up and started walking to the kitchen.

"Type it and send it. Quickly." He ordered.
"Sherlock she's a kid calm down." John said as Sherlock brought the suitcase out of the kitchen.

"That's the pink case. That's Jennifer Wilsons case." John declared when he saw the faded pink case on the table.
"Well, obviously." Sherlock said, not taking his eyes off the contents inside. We looked at him, John finally on the same page with me when Sherlock looked up, rolling his eyes.
"Oh, perhaps I should mention: I didn't kill her." He said.

"We never said you did." I told him, folding my arms.
"Why not?" He asked, looking at me with his cold but stern eyes, "given the text I just had you send and the fact that I have her case, it's a perfectly logical assumption."

"Well do people assume you're the murderer?" John chimed in, making his flatmate smirk.

"Now and then... yes." He answered.