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

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IT HAD TAKEN HOURS FOR LESTRADE TO GET BACK to the hospital to give them the news that Mycroft had already broken to them. Brendan Zielinski had disappeared beneath the radar, the weather too cold to send their divers down for long enough. Sherlock had been pleased though, seeing as they had found traces of human DNA upon the boats that were typically docking in the fishery's little lagoon. With the culprit gone, the danger was no longer present, and the police no longer needed the detective's handiwork. Snow fell from the gunmetal clouds above, the flakes practically glowing against the dark pavement of the parking lot. Molly had already spoken with the detective, taking his hand and begging him to be more careful, only for him to dismiss her with a pat on the arm and a scoff, lecturing her on her perfume again.

It was hilarious how blind Sherlock was to her affections.

The man almost appeared a hollow shell of his former self without his deep grey trench coat. It would most likely be a little while before he finally got a chance to send it to the dry-cleaners. Before Mrs. Hudson, John Watson, Julia Fuller and Sherlock Holmes could all pile into their respective taxi cab, Elliot pulled up in his cheap old car not far from them, calling her over. "Julia, want to stop at the coffee shop for breakfast?" He leaned out the window of the vehicle, cupping one hand around his mouth in order for his voice to travel.

She paused beside Sherlock, the detective having held the door open for her, and then excused herself. "I'll meet up with you guys la—"

"No," Mr. Holmes unexpectedly snapped, catching hold of her sleeve and pulling her back toward the taxi.

Julia nearly leapt out of her skin upon the sudden contact, pivoting around to face him. "What is your damage, Sherlock?" she questioned, stepping up to the plate and challenging the detective. "I do believe that the case is over."

"There is cleaning up to do, Miss Fuller. I'm sure Mrs. Hudson will want you around for that."

"Is cleaning the only thing I'm good for, then?" she exasperated, yanking her sleeve away from him. John awkwardly cleared his throat and adjusted in his seat.

Sherlock was furious at her accusation, his lip curling. "That is not what I mean at all, Julie, and you know it. Your ignorance is not charming in the slightest, now get in the cab." There was a brief juncture before the rosette wheeled around, making a b-line for Elliot's car.

The sound of the detective's shoes against the wet tarmac alerted her to his approach, the man following after her in pure determination. "Now listen to me—"

Her hand fumbled for the handle and she threw the door open, climbing into the passenger seat. The door slammed between the two of them, cutting Holmes off. "Elliot, start the car," she requested, staring straight ahead through the vehicle's milky windshield. The wipers squelched as they pushed the gathering snow away from the driver's line of sight.