[COMPLETE] ??? ???? ?? ??? ??????「Sherlock」

004; The Case of the Empty Boy

She proceeded to dust the shelving unit within the short little hall and then along the painting beside John's bedroom door. It was amazing how much dust could gather within two days. Julia swayed gently to the music, fingertips tapping along the wall as she once again recited the piano accompaniment. She reached the kitchen and hummed softly along, enjoying the melody as she pushed the only chair within the scullery to the fridge in order to dust the top. There, she found a mouse trap, which she raised carefully and then placed back down once finished. Once the kitchen was done, she finally entered the main den and began to clean along the fireplace, taking note of how Sarah had placed the fairy-lights in order to get into the Christmas spirit.

Sherlock had been indifferent toward the idea, although had quickly left the room with John the moment she had arrived. Julia liked Sarah. She was a sweetheart and brought the best out in the old veteran, which was saying something. Sherlock could get him to smile once in a while, but Sarah seemed to take the cake when it came to tickling Dr. Watson pink. This, however, had its downside. Some days though, it felt as if the two of them were the only company that each other had, seeing as their third person was always being stolen away by his significant other. Sherlock seemed uncomfortable with this at times, but surely he understood what it was like to be in love, right?

Julia, come to think of it, wasn't sure if he really understood human emotions at all. Old man, she thought indignantly, even despite being just a year younger than Mr. Holmes herself. As she rounded behind Sherlock's chair, she stirred the back of his jacket, coming to the writing desk to his right. The young woman quietly tucked the duster beneath her arm and began to stack the papers, when suddenly Sherlock stopped playing, turning to her. "You know this song?" he inquired, curious. So he was finally speaking to her?

Julia quietly identified the sheet music and set them in their own little pile. "You are correct, Mr. Holmes," she responded eventually, taking a deep breath and keeping her eyes on the pages. "César Franck. One of my favourite pieces."

"And you know the accompaniment." Of course he had noticed how her fingers had been tapping, even from in the next room or from behind him. Nothing got past him. "Your teacher taught you well."

"Yes," she confirmed once more. She finished moving all the papers aside and began to dust the handles of the chair. "But I taught myself. I am not everything that you believe me to be, Mr. Holmes." The detective looked out his window for a moment, watching a bird as it spiralled to the ground in search of scraps. They then fell to the strangers below, gathered in a very small group as they had listened to his performance.

Julia's eyes rose, falling upon the wall above Sherlock's couch, cluttered with images of bodies and the innocent smiling faces of multiple children. There had been at least four more murders in the last week and Sherlock still hadn't made a single move. He had been thinking... and thinking. Clearly he had some sort of theory, he just needed both motivation and the correct lead. She crossed her arms and sighed gently, looking up at the leaflets, feeling a bit more confident now that Sherlock had finally spoken to her. Aside from small little cases here and there, he had been sulking around the flat, breaking things, bringing home pieces of bodies— which is why she now refused to touch the fridge without asking John. Julia found herself becoming more and more comfortable with Sherlock's strange lifestyle, even despite how she had been disassociating herself for so long. The young woman cocked her head, narrowing her eyes at the picture of the first empty boy: Elijah Fredrick. Avoiding the most disgusting parts, she found her attention coming to a patch of skin on the boy's sickly pale arm.

"Have you been checking for numbers?" she inquired before she could really stop the words from tumbling out from between her lips. The detective gave no answer for a moment before he silently travelled to stand beside her. Her apatite eyes fell upon his staring set. He seemed to be speechless. "You know, like in—"