"Jealousy and greed were a twin-headed snake that had not even shown her face, and yet Sherlock could already feel her coiling around his throat and flexing her fangs oh so dangerously close to his jugular. She was a looming phantom; a sickening nec...
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THE CAB'S BREAKS SQUEALED AS THE TRIO PULLED UP TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME, the flashing red and blue lights stirring a newfound discomfort within her chest. Her hands fiddled with the end of her aunt's coat, her body rigid and beginning to break into a nervous sweat. She paid the cab driver herself, earning a flirtatious wink from the rather scruffy man, which caused her to quickly retract her hand. Slithering out behind John, she fell into step with the man and followed closely beside. Heads were beginning to turn as the Great Sherlock Holmes strutted onto the scene, lifting up the caution tape to allow both Fuller and Watson through. Immediately, she was approached by a tall woman. She had caramel-brown skin and hard black eyes, her face drawn in an expression of disgust. "Excuse me, but I'd like some form of identification from you before I can let you into this building," the officer confronted, extending a hand.
Julia swallowed thick in her throat, taking a step back, straight into John Watson, who gently laid a hand upon her upper arm. Sherlock had turned by now, eyes latching onto the strict officer with vague interest. "Ms. Julia Fuller is with us, Sergeant," he called, earning a confused glance from the raven beauty in front of her. "Down girl." His last remark was degrading, almost as if speaking to a dog. Eventually his attention fell upon the men approaching him from inside the rickety old building. One wore a full-bodied contaminant suit while the other was dressed in casual attire, who Julia suspected was an undercover cop. John gently gave her arm a squeeze and guided her away, although not before the rosette offered the sergeant a shy smile of apology.
She had just caught up with John when she heard them mention something about there being blood further up inside the building. "We might have to take some extra precaution inside," the silver-crowned officer advised. "The structure could crumble at any moment." Julia's eyes traveled to the building itself, eyeing the massive clumps of birds' nests around the steeple, as well as the obvious holes in the roof. She could only imagine the damage inside from rain rot.
"Oh, pish, there's no reason to be nervous," Sherlock scoffed, turning to John. "You up for a little jaunt through this building?"
John hummed. "I don't see why not. I've done worse."
"Perfect." Sherlock careened his head around to look at the young woman between the two of them.
Suddenly, she found herself to be the one being stared at, rather than the old building in front of them. "Who's this?" asked the younger fellow dressed in his white plastic suit. He looked to be about her age, perhaps a bit older, his face clean-shaven and hair evenly parted.
"Julia Fuller," she spoke up, trying to appear confident when she clearly had no idea what she was doing. "I don't believe we've met."
"Inspector Lestrade," greeted the greying officer. "Pleased to meet you."
"Anderson," the man in the suit responded, going in for a handshake. Her extremity extended to greet the longer-haired man back, however she was stopped as Sherlock's warm grasp snatched her own out of the air. Her breath hiccuped ever so softly in her throat and the rosette turned to the gentleman beside her whom squeezed her fingers.