Sherlock had been working on a particularly fascinating case. A man was found in his office, his face in a puddle of vomit. There was a strange drug in the mans vomit that basically made you choke to death. The weird thing about the case was that there was no sign of forced entry, all the keys were accounted for, and the door was locked. At first the police though the murder climbed through the window, but Sherlock quickly pointed out that it was impossible, seeing as the man was on the 5th story, and the only way to open and close the window was if you were inside. And all the windows were closed.
After a few days of figuring things out it came to Sherlock's attention that maybe it took a while for the poison to kick in. Needing to have his hypothesis supported with evidence he had gone to Molly's lab. He wasn't surprised to see Molly there, that's where she spent most of her time, but he was interested and seeing a young woman with Molly. With a quick glance he could easily deduct that the woman was from a family of high powers, seeing how she stood, but it didn't match the way she dressed. She stood tall and tense, as if she was trained to stand that way, be she dressed casually formal.
Sherlock ignored the muttering and whispering of Molly and her friend as he was too busy with his work. When Molly introduced her as Isabelle Sherlock simply gave her a extremely fake smile before looking back down at his work. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. When Isabelle pointed out his formula was written down incorrectly he looked at her, amazed. She grew up rich, so Sherlock instantly assumed she only had an average IQ, but seeing that she was able to talk to scientifically about chemistry he realized he thought wrongly about her.
Molly rushed Isabelle out too soon, so Sherlock was unable to thank her, or ask her anything else. He had a tight frown on his face at the mention of the tuxedo. He saw no point in getting a new one when he had one that would work perfectly fine. He made a simple "hmph," sound as he rolled his eyes and went back to his work. Soon he had figured out that his hypothesis was, of course, correct. There was a chemical that would offset the effects of the poison.
After a few days of figuring things out it came to Sherlock's attention that maybe it took a while for the poison to kick in. Needing to have his hypothesis supported with evidence he had gone to Molly's lab. He wasn't surprised to see Molly there, that's where she spent most of her time, but he was interested and seeing a young woman with Molly. With a quick glance he could easily deduct that the woman was from a family of high powers, seeing how she stood, but it didn't match the way she dressed. She stood tall and tense, as if she was trained to stand that way, be she dressed casually formal.
Sherlock ignored the muttering and whispering of Molly and her friend as he was too busy with his work. When Molly introduced her as Isabelle Sherlock simply gave her a extremely fake smile before looking back down at his work. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't figure out what. When Isabelle pointed out his formula was written down incorrectly he looked at her, amazed. She grew up rich, so Sherlock instantly assumed she only had an average IQ, but seeing that she was able to talk to scientifically about chemistry he realized he thought wrongly about her.
Molly rushed Isabelle out too soon, so Sherlock was unable to thank her, or ask her anything else. He had a tight frown on his face at the mention of the tuxedo. He saw no point in getting a new one when he had one that would work perfectly fine. He made a simple "hmph," sound as he rolled his eyes and went back to his work. Soon he had figured out that his hypothesis was, of course, correct. There was a chemical that would offset the effects of the poison.
After a few hours working in Molly's lab Sherlock had gone back home. John was there, of course, and was working on his blog. Sherlock had gone and made himself a cup of tea, and he was now sitting in a chair, looking out the window at the dark apartment across the street. Remembering what Molly said about Isabelle living across the street from them Sherlock looked over to John, who was absorbed in his work. "Molly has friends," Sherlock said. John looked up from his work, and back at Sherlock with a confused face. "Okay?... Everyone has friends, even you... I'd expect Molly has friends... Why is that so weird?" John frowned a bit. "It's weird because her newest friend is our neighbor across the street... I just met her, she's interesting... Smarter than she looks and yet she acts stupid."
John's face grew more confused. "Well that's different... Was she nice?"
"Don't know, I only got to hear her talk a little bit, and even then she was correcting me on a formula... Oh, by the way, I was right."
"About?"
"The poison used on our vomit victim had something added to it to lengthen the reaction time of it."
With that Sherlock and John got talking about the case, thinking of motives and why the Vomit Victim, as they sweetly called him, was killed. They talked the rest of the night until John decided to go back to Mary. Sherlock sighed, and went to bed for the rest of the night.
John's face grew more confused. "Well that's different... Was she nice?"
"Don't know, I only got to hear her talk a little bit, and even then she was correcting me on a formula... Oh, by the way, I was right."
"About?"
"The poison used on our vomit victim had something added to it to lengthen the reaction time of it."
With that Sherlock and John got talking about the case, thinking of motives and why the Vomit Victim, as they sweetly called him, was killed. They talked the rest of the night until John decided to go back to Mary. Sherlock sighed, and went to bed for the rest of the night.