Dark Secrets (Sherlock x Reader)

Carl Powers

You took a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. You nodded. ''I know, I'm trying.''

''I'll text Molly,'' he said. ''We need a lab.''

~

Sherlock turned the shoes in his hands, looking at them from multiple angles. He had taken the dirt on the soles and analysed it.

The computer was scanning at a rapid speed, but so far, no matches had been discovered.

Sherlock turned back to his microscope, frowning in focus. ''There has to be something,'' he mumbled to himself.

You stared at the computer screen, anxiously awaiting any information that could help you solve Moriarty's puzzle. Several hours had passed already and you were nowhere near the answer.

''Here,'' John said, handing you a cup of coffee. ''You look like you need it.''

''Yeah. Thank you, John.'' You took a sip. ''And thank you for offering your assistance. Lestrade was needed at the Yard and we could use all the help we can get.''

''Well, I haven't been of much use yet,'' he chuckled.

''Nor have I,'' you sighed. ''This is Sherlock's area of expertise. I was never interested in chemistry or biology, which is what we need right now.''

''There has to be something we can do to be useful. I can't stand just sitting here and waiting when there are lives at stake.''

You smiled softly, grabbing one of the shoes and sliding it over to John. ''Go on then.''

''Sorry?''

''You know what Sherlock and I do. Give it a shot.''

''I'd embarrass myself.''

''Probably,'' Sherlock commented, tearing his eyes away from the microscope. ''But a second opinion could be helpful. I agree with (Y/N).''

The doctor rolled his eyes. ''Of course, you do. Fine!'' He cleared his throat and picked up the footwear. ''Well, they're shoes. Trainers, actually.''

''Good,'' Sherlock encouraged, glancing your way with a small smirk playing on his lips.

''They're in a good state. I would say they're pretty new, but the soles have been well-worn. The owner must have had them for a while.''

''You're on sparkling form. What else?''

You giggled softly to yourself, earning another smirk from Sherlock.

''They're rather big, so a man's,'' John continued.

''But?'' you pried.

John took a second to take another close look, inspecting the insides of the trainers. ''There's smudges of blue ink, so a name was written inside. A grown man wouldn't do that, so the shoes were a child's.''

''Excellent. What else?''

John put the shoe down. ''Uh... that's it.''

''That's it?'' Sherlock pushed.

His blogger nodded. ''So, how did I do?''

''You did well!'' you smiled. ''Well done, John.''

''He did miss almost everything of importance,'' Sherlock interjected. He grabbed one of the shoes, turning it in his hand. ''The owner loved these. Scrubbed them clean, whitened them where they got discoloured. Changed the laces three... no, four times. Even so, there are traces of his flaky skin where his fingers have come into contact with them, so he suffered from eczema. Shoes are well-worn, more so on the inside, which means the owner had weak arches. British-made, twenty years old.''