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A Study in Holmes

Introduction

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Youth ◆ Daughter ◆ || ◆ Losing your Memory ◆ Ryan Star ◆ || ◆ Somebody To Die For ◆ Hurts ◆ ||
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so·ci·o·path ˈsōsēōˌpaTH/
noun: sociopath; plural noun: sociopaths
a person with a personality disorder manifesting itself in extreme antisocial attitudes and behavior and a lack of conscience.


Sherlock Holmes, the world known consulting detective, has always been a sociopath. A sociopath by definition in incapable of loving anything high functioning or not, at least it is believed to be that way. Nobody truly knows what the famous detective is capable of and what he isn't. When she came around, Sherlock changed, she brought out the best in him in way nobody knew could be done. Perhaps Sherlock can love after all.



I've always assumed love was a dangerous disadvantage, chemical defect, human error...
Thank you, for the final proof.


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gen·ius /ˈjēnyəs/
noun: genius; plural noun: geniuses
exceptional intellectual or creative power or other natural ability.


Isabelle was born onto a pedestal of perfection. Daughter to the Duke of Marlborough, she comes from one of most well known families in Britain. Running away from the spotlight, Isabelle found herself in the big city of London. Isabelle has been classified as a genius since she was a small child, though she has been taught to pose as ordinary. When she stumbles into Sherlock Holmes life not only does she change him, but he changes her. He lowers her ordinary facade, to show the extraordinary.
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|| Sherlock Holmes | Male | 27 | Benedict Cumberbatch | OPEN ||

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|| Isabelle Winston | Female | 24 | Karen Gillan | TAKEN ||
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◆ John Watson ◆ Sherlock's Best friend ◆

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◆ Mary Watson ◆ John's Wife ◆

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◆ Mycroft Holmes ◆ Sherlock's Brother ◆

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◆ Mrs. Hudson ◆ The Land Lady ◆

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◆ Sally Donovan ◆ Staff Sargent ◆

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◆ Greg Lestrade ◆ Detective Inspector ◆

Toggle Rules

The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 2 authors

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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It was a cold day the day Isabelle moved into the flat across the street from 221B Baker street. Alyssa helped her with moving the boxes of her things into the flat another young girl tailing behind them like an unnoticed shadow. "I don't need a maid!" Isabelle exclaimed crossing her arms. "I'm trying to get away from all of this, not just move away and bring it with me." Alyssa laughed at her sisters behavior bringing another box into the house. "Mother and Father insisted."

Alyssa brought the last box into the house with a satisfied smile turning to her older sister. "Are you sure you are going to be okay Bella?" Isabelle smiled hugging her sister tightly. "I'm going to be fine, get home safely okay?" Isabelle waved her sister off heading back into the flat to get everything put into it's place.




Molly and Isabelle were in the lab gallery, Molly rolled her eyes when she saw Sherlock enter the lab bellow. The man caught Isabelle’s attention. She was intrigued by the man simply because Molly rolled her eyes and Molly liked everyone. Isabelle had been friends with Molly since she moved to London about four months ago.

“Who’s that?” she asked curiosity in her voice. “How do you not know who that is? You’ve lived across the street from him for four months now!” Molly exclaimed shocked Isabelle hadn’t met the famous Sherlock Holmes, she shrugged her shoulders slightly, something Isabelle didn’t do often she always held herself with an unearthly elegance and grace as Molly would say. “I guess he isn’t very neighborly.” Molly smiled slightly. “Doesn’t surprise me, he’s the most unsociable man I’ve met. Come I’ll introduce you to him. Don’t expect him to reply though Bella, he probably won’t” Molly informed her matter of factly.

She followed closely behind her friend as they walked down the stairs. While Molly approached the man Isabelle lingered in the doorway watching the interaction for a few moments, when the man glanced in her general direction she slowly made her way over walking with the same elegance she always did. “Sherlock, this is Isabelle Winston. You’ve lived across the road from each other for four months and apparently haven’t met.”

Isabelle's eye caught the formula Sherlock had written down on a piece of paper and shifted. It was wrong, no wonder he was going around in circles. It appeared he had assumed it to be a double replacement formula when it was a single replacement formula, she ignored it for a while but it started nagging at her. She was OCD that way, couldn’t stand a incorrect formula just like she couldn’t stand an incorrect note coming from her piano or violin.

“Your formula is wrong.” Isabelle finally said not being able to take the mistake any longer, she caught Molly’s glance from behind Sherlock before looking back at the man who was now looking at her. “You’ve written it as a double replacement formula, it’s only a single replacement.” Isabelle said the same shy quietness that was always in her voice. She looked down at the floor immediately scolding herself for saying anything, heaven forbid she had done something like that in front of her parents, she cleared her throat. “I mean.” She stuttered slightly. “You’re probably right, I don’t know much about it.”

Molly quickly intervened grabbing Isabelle’s arm noticing her friends clear anxiety over the situation she had managed to get herself into. “Well, Bella and I have to go dress shopping for my wedding, it’s coming up so quickly!” Molly exclaimed, turning and heading for the door pulling Isabelle with her. “Oh and Sherlock.” Molly looked at him over her shoulder. “You can’t wear the same tux you wore to John and Mary’s wedding! Get another one!”

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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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 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.

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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Molly's wedding had come around faster than Isabelle thought it would. It was early in the morning before the sun came up and Isabelle was already tending to Molly's hair. There was one other bridesmaid who as Isabelle understood it was Molly's soon to be sister-in-law. The girl was only about sixteen and acted that way too driving Isabelle insane from the moment she walked into the room.

"Have you talked to Sherlock at all?" Molly asked careful not to move her head, Isabelle drew in a breath looking at her friend in the mirror. "I've run into him a few times. We don't exactly talk, we just stand there." Molly let out a laugh. "You just stand there?" Isabelle smiled chuckling softly as well, she supposed it was sort of childish, but Sherlock always seemed to be rushing around, whenever their paths did cross he just stared at her like she was a puzzle with a missing piece and disappeared again before she could say anything.

Once Molly was ready, Isabelle slipped into her dress. She stood in the mirror for a few seconds trying to figure out what to do with her hair, sighing she pulled it into a french twist that lead into a pony tail over her right shoulder. The dress was a little tight for Isabelle's liking, she was positive she was going to have problems dancing in it. Whenever she went to functions with her family she always chose a loose dress that she would be able to easily move around in, but this wasn't with her family, it was her friends wedding.

"I told you the gold would suit you Bella!"
Molly smiled walking over to Isabelle. "It compliments your hair, makes you look sort of like a flame." Isabelle looked down at the dress before smiling at Molly, her sister-in-law was in a different styled dress but it was the same color as Isabelle's. "Come on, lets get you to the church, or you'll be late!"




The sound of church bells filled the air, Isabelle walked outside for a few of the pictures before Molly said it was alright for her to go chat with the guests. A man who she believed was John approached her, Sherlock following behind, she smiled gently at the shorter man, most of her training coming out in that moment, don't speak unless spoke to. "You must be Isabelle?" Isabelle smiled again taking John's hand before clasping them in front of herself again. "Yes. I usually go by Bella." She corrected gently, she was trying to get away from formality not get sucked back into it. She was also avoiding mentioning her last name, the last thing she needed was press showing up because they figured out where she was.

"I hear you have already met Sherlock." Isabelle shifted her heals were starting to hurt her feet as she had been standing the entire ceremony. "Briefly, over an incorrect formula. Sherlock wrote it as a double replacement formula, it was only a single replacement." She skimmed over John figuring him out without much of a hitch. "Your a Doctor?" John looked a little surprised, he hadn't said anything about being a Doctor. "Sorry, you hold yourself like military but your hands don't shake. Army doctor." Isabelle was tired enough that she didn't realize she was reading people, or being smart in anyway, she only noticed because John gave Sherlock a look, Isabelle simply followed John's eyes to Sherlock's gaze, shifting again.

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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Sherlock's morning started out with John coming over with Mary terribly early in the morning. Sherlock, who was reluctant to get up, had to be forced up by John. When he was actually up he looked to see Mary was holding something that was recently washed, seeing as it was covered in a bag. Sherlock looked between John and Mary. Both of them were already dressed, so the tailored whatever-it-was had to be for him. "I never told you I needed a new tux," Sherlock said looking back to John, who wasn't at all surprised that his friend figured out what was in the bag.

"No, but Molly texted me telling me that you need a new suit and to remind you," John said, shifting as he rocked on his heels a little bit. "But I've got my own," Sherlock protested, but he took the suit from Molly anyways. The Tuxedo was nice. A charcoal black with silk on the edge of the folded collar. It went with it's own bowtie, and undershirt. John and Mary were already out of the room and closing the door behind them before Sherlock could even protest more. Groaning and throwing a small fit he started to strip down from the robe he was wearing.




"I really don't like weddings," Sherlock growled to John, who only replied with a sigh. "You could at least act like you're happy... Molly will notice and she'll be cross if you don't at least smile," John said after smiling and greeting a few people. Sherlock was about to snob back when John suddenly asked, "Where is our neighbor that you're talking about? The brilliant one that acts like she's stupid?" Sherlock looked to John, surprised that he had even remembered him talking about it.

Sherlock quickly scoped the crowed of people, just in time to see Molly and her friends walking into the room. "Over there," Sherlock pointed. John looked, following his finger. Upon seeing Isabelle he smiled, gave Mary a kiss, and went over. Sherlock followed after giving Marry a small smile, but when he got there he pretended to look around like he was looking for something. In all reality he was paying close attention to John and Bella's conversation. When she 'Sherlocked' John Sherlock looked down to John, fighting a smile that was coming to his face.

"I told you," Sherlock said, a playful hint to his voice. He didn't bother holding back, "She's incredibly smart, but acts stupid." Sherlock looked over to Bella, who was watching them with a weird look. "You're very interesting, Ms. Winston," Sherlock smiled. John continued to star at Sherlock, who gave him an equally weird look. "You googled her?" John asked. Sherlock frowned a bit. "No! first off there's not many powerful women in London who have the name Isabelle!... That and it's recent news that a certain Dukes daughter had recently left the life of royalty. It wasn't all to hard to find out. But even then Molly told me her last name when we first met..." John looked to Bella, lips pursed. "Sorry about him..."

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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“No! First off there’s not many powerful women in London who have the name Isabelle! That and it’s recent news that a certain Dukes daughter had recently left the life of Royalty. It wasn’t all to hard to find out. But even then, Molly told me her last name when we first met. John didn’t seem overly impressed with Sherlock’s behavior. “Sorry about him.” Isabelle smiled softly. “Don’t be, its perfectly fine. I was expecting it with his reputation.” She admitted, she felt it was only a matter of time before everyone else figured it out as well, one of the only things really going for her was the fact Isabelle didn’t look anything like the rest of her family.

Isabelle looked over Sherlock quickly, he was taller than her even with her heals on he still stood roughly two inches taller than her. Molly grabbed her arm before she could get any further than that. “Reception.” Molly chimed excitedly, Isabelle smiled at her friend excusing herself from Sherlock and John following after Molly.

John looked at Sherlock a slight smirk on his face. “Come on. It’s time for the reception, and you can’t leave early so don’t even think about it Sherlock.”




The reception was a hive of activity Isabelle was talking with a group of people laughing a little bit at something one of them said. She was tired but pushing through for Molly’s sake more than anything.
Isabelle saw Molly talking to Sherlock she caught Sherlock looking in her direction she quickly turned back to the conversation.

“You should go dance with her.” Molly whispered to Sherlock. “She’s a wonderful dancer, probably up to your standard.” Molly moved back to her husband looking over her shoulder at Sherlock.

When people started dancing Isabelle watched from the side lines smiling every once and a while at Molly when she looked at over at her. The reception seemed to be dragging on forever, Isabelle had danced with multiple different men all of them stepping on her feet at least once during the night. After the last dance Isabelle did she moved over to the table grabbing a glass of wine starting to sip from it, smiling gently at Sherlock when he came over to her. “Figured something else out have you?” Isabelle asked with a good natured smile, she wondered if he had figured anything else out, as far as she understood it, Sherlock didn’t really take interest in other people.




Isabelle had been walking home when it happened, it seemed Sherlock wasn’t the only one who had figured out who Isabelle was, usually she was careful not to go home during the dark. The attack had been rather sudden, Isabelle hadn’t even noticed she was being followed, luckily for her John had been on his way home from Sherlock’s and stumbled upon the scene, she didn’t know how he had done it but he scared the three men off.

“Are you alright Isabelle?” John said helping her up, John quickly assessed her injuries they were minor most of them at least. John brought her into Sherlock’s apartment. “Sherlock, go get the suture kit I keep in the cabinet.” Isabelle flinched slightly when John touched the cut on her arm, it was deep enough that she knew she needed stitches she just didn’t want to deal with it. “I’m fine.” she mumbled, John gave her a look and she could feel Sherlock giving her the same one.

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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Sherlock was having a dreadful time. At least 10 people tired to talk to him, and each one he snobbily outsmarted by saying big words and being very blunt. Oh how he hated weddings sometimes. The instant Sherlock even went into the reception area he knew his night was going to be awful. When Molly came over he was at least some what relieved to see someone he liked talk to him. Of course the instant she started to talk about him dancing with Isabelle his hopes dropped.

Sherlock was sure she was a lovely girl, he even dared to say he kind of liked her, but he couldn't help but get the feeling that Molly was trying to force them into a relationship just because both of them were smart and clever. He was reluctant to talk to her unless he had to, even with the mention of her being a good dancer. So instead of talking with her, he watched her, studying her a bit. She was extremely hard to read, other then past her lineage. He couldn't see what her past was like. All he knew is she was monitonly prim and proper, but hid her knowledge.

That was also something that bothered him. Bella was one of the smartest people out there, from what he could see, but she refused to show it. Although some things did slip, like the fact that incorrect things bothered her to the point where she couldn't help correcting you, or the way she stood. She stood like she had power, which she actually did in certain places, but when you talked to her she dumbed herself down. It bothered him, to the point where he was actually kinda glaring at her. Finally after a long time of being passive aggressive towards everyone, he gave into his curiosity and went to talk to Isabella.

The conversation was actually nice, much to Sherlock's dismay. He was hoping that Isabelle was only smart when it came to some things, but as he talked to her more and more he realized that she was just as smart as him. She was stronger in some subjects but on the contrary she still was intelligent. Sherlock reluctantly admitted to himself that he actually... Enjoyed her presents. Which was rare seeing as Sherlock never really enjoys anything accept tea and murders.




It was late in the night by the time Sherlock and John had left to go home. Isabelle has left a while before them, but Sherlock was rather surprised to see her when they were walking home. He was even more surprised to see that at least 5 men in black were harassing her. They were shoving her around, growling crude sexual saying. Sherlock's face flared with anger seeing the revolting men pick on someone he deemed worthy of his attention. Without a second thought he hurried into the dark alleyway. John, seeing who was being harassed, also followed him.

Sherlock grabbed the first guy by the back of the jacket. He quickly jabbed him in the mouth, hearing the satisfying crunch of the man bitting his lip. His hand instantly throbbed as he let go of the man. Deciding not to punch another one, he quickly reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a gun. "I advise all of you leave, now," Sherlock growled, lifting the gun into the air and shooting off a round. Instantly the kids scurried away, yelling and cussing like a sailor. The one he punched in the mouth was the last to scurry away. Sherlock looked back to Isabelle, John already investigating her wounds. "Really?... A gun?" John asked. Sherlock shrugged it off.

Helping John take Isabelle up to the apartment, which was close by, it was clear she wasn't in her right mind. She was dazed, and was blacking out for a few seconds. By the time they got her to the apartment she was starting to clear up. She had scratches all over her, but the most noticeable wound that Sherlock found himself worrying over was the deep gash on her arm. Helping John set her down in a chair he did as was asked, going to find the medical kit John was talking about.

When Isabelle started to protest against getting fixed up Sherlock looked to John with a 'this girl really got knocked around' look. He turned back to looking for the medical kit in the messy cabinets, a frown on his face. After finding it he silently cheered in his head, going over to Bella and John, handing the doctor the medical kit. "Should call Molly?" Sherlock asked. John frowned a bit. "No, I don't think so... It's her wedding night..." Sherlock made a weird face "So?" John looked back at him with a 'are you an idiot?' look in his eye. It took Sherlock a second to fully understand why John was giving him that look. "Oh!... Yeah, let's not do that.."

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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Isabelle was still a little out of it, she could hear sirens probably because Sherlock had fired the gun, and soon a man was in the apartment by the looks of him Isabelle could tell he was high up when it came to the police but it seemed he was familiar with Sherlock and John. "There was a reporting of gunshots, I assumed it was you two." Lestrade spoke seemingly fairly proud of himself that he guessed right. He stepped further into the room glancing at Isabelle, he seemed surprised to see her which told her that he was aware of who she was. "Royalty in this apartment? That's new." Isabelle refrained from rolling her eyes at the man careful not to move her arm as John was tending to the nasty wound, once it was stitched up and wrapped he put a finger in front of her. "Follow my finger." Isabelle pushed his hand away. "I don't have a concussion." she protested. "I'm pretty sure you do, you blacked out for a few seconds."

Isabelle finally gave in following John's finger barely reacting to the light in her eyes, when he was finished she rubbed her eyes. "I'm fine." John stood up. "Yeah, you keep saying that. Been attacked before I assume?" She shifted slightly at the memory of her ex boyfriend attacking her that one night before shaking her head. "No, I haven't." She lied. She figured he parents had done enough to keep that little fact out of the public eye, she didn't need anyone outside of her family to know. "I'm assuming you don't want us to investigate?"

"Oh, I don't know inspector."
By the way Lestrade reacted Isabelle knew she had guessed right. "If you want to deal with the Royal family, the British secret service, and my father, then by all means investigate away." Lestrade shifted, Isabelle knew he didn't want to deal with anyone on that list, people rarely did. "The British secret service?" John asked and Isabelle sighed slightly. "Yes, whenever anything happens to anyone in the Royal family, or the Royal court the secret service is brought in." John glanced at Sherlock not knowing whether the next question would hit a nerve or not but he asked anyway. "So, you know Mycroft then?" She laughed a little bit. "Mycroft Holmes? He's basically the British Government of course I know him. I don't like him, hes condescending, really gets on my nerves."

Isabelle glanced at Sherlock knowing that, that was probably the case for himself when it came to his older brother as well. Mycroft was the only reason Isabelle knew of Sherlock's reputation. Once John was sure Isabelle was okay he let her stand up, letting her know it was okay for her to go. She was tired and those were welcome words as all she wanted to do was get into bed.




Isabelle walked up to Sherlock's flat, it had been a few weeks since the wedding and they had been spending time together, with Molly away Sherlock was really the only person who Isabelle enjoyed being in the company of. When she came into the flat Sherlock was focused on something at the kitchen table, Isabelle was curious as to what he was doing but the Violin caught her interest more than what every Sherlock was doing. She knew he played the violin but she had never actually heard him play, she went over to the instrument, noticing Sherlock was looking at her she smiled. "May I?" When he gestured that it was fine Isabelle picked up the instrument and the bow quickly tuning it, once she was happy with the sound coming from it she played a small song that she had written and memorized a while ago.

After she had finished she put the instrument back where it was going over to Sherlock to see what he was doing but it seemed he had taken a break from his work and was listening to her play. Isabelle looked at the papers quickly skimming over them. "So, what are you doing? Working on a new case?" she asked curiously, it looked like he was studying something but she wondered if he was doing it for fun, or for a case.

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Character Portrait: Sherlock Holmes Character Portrait: Isabelle Winston
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Sherlock had found himself interested in Isabelle. Not in a romantic way, of course, he just liked how she understood his 'language'. She was always interested in whatever he was doing, and thanks to her comment when they first met the police were having a wonderful time figuring out more to the Vomit Victim case. That and she was one of the only people he found incredibly hard to read. He knew that back a few weeks she had lied about it being the first time she was roughed up like that. It was a horribly executed lie, but he didn't push when he heard it. Something he also noticed is that her arm, although healing up well, wasn't held close to her side.

Most people, when they're injured, try to keep their injured lib as close to them as possible. They're always afraid they'll bang it against something, and it'll hurt more. Isabelle, however, acts as if she's completely forgotten about her wound. While someone with her injury would refuse to use the hurt arm she continues to use it as if it wasn't stitched up. It's as if she's forgotten that her arm is injured, but she hasn't forgotten. Whenever she's offered something heavy, or bulky that's when she seems to realize she's injured, and shifts to use her good arm.

Sherlock had found himself lost in thought when Bella came into the flat, but when she did he felt a flicker of excitement spring from his chest. He mentally furrowed his eyebrow, not sure why the emotion even came to him. It's not like seeing her was anything special. He was just... Lonely. When she saw she noticed the violin his interest was instantly drawn from what he was working on. He didn't know she played violin. Nothing really indicated that she played an instrument, but then again he wasn't surprised. It was always a costume for higher up families to have children that master one or two instruments.

He watched her tune it, and when she started to beautifully play it he found himself in pure awe. He felt his body absentmindedly sway slightly to the music as he listened, and he closed his eyes. When the beautiful tune stopped his eyes flickered open. She put the instrument down, and went over to see what he was working on. She asked him questions he was a little loss for words. It was weird, for some reason, going from listening to a beautiful tune to suddenly being snapped back into work.

"It's uh... Work related," He said, itching his nose. He paused when he realized Bella was giving him an expectant look. "It's a bunch of ancient drugs... The police thing the drug used on the Vomit Victim is significant to the killer, like it's a trade mark or something... We're hoping it'll take us farther along in the case, seeing as we're kind of stuck right now..." Sherlock leaned back in his chair, looking up to Isabelle who was leaning over and looking at the book. "Any thoughts?" He offered, gesturing to the book. He was hopeful that she could help, seeing as her sudden visit was making it hard for him to think.

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Isabelle furrowed her eyebrows looking at the book and a few of the formula's Sherlock had scratched down, she skimmed the page he was looking at before flipping it, that wasn't the right poison, she flipped the page again and again, she recognized most of the poisons, most of them were used by Assassins who serve world leaders, the ancient poisons were often hard to track in the human body as most of them didn't show up on modern day scans or were to old to be in modern day crime analysis. She stopped on once page matching the formula Sherlock had written wrong the first day she met him. "Who was the victim?"

Isabelle looked at Sherlock when he explained the man was a political figure in the British government, Isabelle didn't recognize the man but she hadn't met some of the new politicians so it wasn't exactly a shock. "The poison used is common with Assassins who serve people of high power in Asia generally, this specific one was originally made in Korea. It could have been a North Korean assassin." Isabelle explained. "It seems whatever this man knew, someone of importance didn't want it getting out. He was in the middle of something, and if it was dangerous enough that he ended up dead, its probably dangerous for everyone." Isabelle looked over at Sherlock, it seemed he was solving more than just a murder case.




Isabelle had been with Sherlock most of the day helping him go through the case files trying to find anything substantial, the thing with assassins was you couldn't prove they did it, that the specific country in question was responsible. Isabelle hadn't even noticed John come into the flat she was busy reading over some of the notes from the investigators from Scotland yard. "Have you been here all day?" John asked causing Isabelle to jump a little bit, she looked at him. "Most of it, why?" John sat down at his chair shrugging slightly. "Sherlock isn't a people person, he doesn't like people which, means he doesn't usually like guests." She glanced over at Sherlock who seemed to be glaring at John, she looked back down at the notes flipping through them.

"Still working on that case then?" John asked a question more directed towards Sherlock than Isabelle but she looked up anyway. "Assassins John." Isabelle answered as if it wasn't a big deal, to her it wasn't she heard about it often enough that it barely phased her anymore. "It was an assassin?" She nodded slightly. "I think it is at least." John looked at Sherlock again. "You hate it when people interfere with your work." Isabelle laughed a little bit. "I'm hardly interfering. Sherlock asked for my thoughts." John gave Sherlock another weird look, he had noticed it a bit before that Sherlock sort of changed when Isabelle was around, but it was almost as if he were a separate person. "Are you feeling alright Sherlock?" He asked as if illness were the only explanation to his friends uncharacteristic behavior.

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Sherlock gave John an annoyed look. "I'm fine, John... This case is annoying and she's brilliant. She's figured out the killer is a North Korean Assassin, and so far we're trying to see if there's any hidden government secrete going around that could of made the Vomit Victim a target." He went back to looking at the papers in his hand. "Sherlock, they're called secretes for a reason," John mumbled. Sherlock looked up, the annoyed still on his face. "Yes, I know, and I have a brother how is practically the government. I can easily snoop around, how do you think I'm so knowledgeable on the government?"

Sherlock huffed, putting the papers he was reading down. John frowned at him, knowing his friend probably had a long frustrating day. He knew Sherlock didn't like being outwitted, and that cases like this really got his temper going. He stopped with the questions, moving into the kitchen. "Is that all you've been able to figure out?" John called back to the pair. "The victim had a lover... A male lover... We think he was being threatened. Someone wanted him to stop snooping around, and if he didn't they'd spread the pictures... Obviously someone else had a different idea to deal with his curiosity."

Sherlock held up some printed pictures. It was of their victim kissing another man, his hands wrapped around the other mans waist. Both held themselves like they were calm and happy. Both had no idea they were being watched. "Where'd you get those?" John asked, eyebrow raised. "The victims belongings... It was hidden in his desk, like he was ashamed," Sherlock responded, looking down at the pictures he was holding. "Wasn't he married, though? The police interrogated the wife..." John frowned.

Sherlock looked back at Isabelle. "She was lying," he turned back to John, "We found the separation papers also hidden. She seemed to have found out... But don't bother interrogating her again, she's not the killer nor did she hire the killer. Her alibi checks out, and there's no evidence of her searching for a killer." John nodded, a slight frown on his face. "This man having a gay lover didn't kill him, did it?" John looked to Isabelle. "Of course not! We just said he died because he was snooping around... Being gay never killed anyone in a political party."

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Isabelle listened to Sherlock fill John in on what they were looking for and what they had discovered. It was nearing midnight when Isabelle's phone rang, she rubbed her eyes pulling herself away from the papers answering it. She moved out of the flat a little bit, it was her sister on the phone crying hysterically, their older brother had died, he had been poisoned same MO as the victim they were already looking at. Isabelle moved back into the room keeping as unfazed as possible, it wasn't public that her brother had died she couldn't say anything. She took the picture of the victim with his male lover looking at the unknown mans right hand, she sighed a little bit, the man that was dead couldn't have been older than thirty, of course it was a secret, you can't have an affair with a member of the royal household without it being a secret.

"I know why the wife lied." Isabelle said softly she pointed out the ring on the other mans right hand, the ring had her family crest on it. "Because you don't accuse someone in the royal family of anything. That ring belongs to my brother Mathias, hes the only one in the family who has one other than my father." Isabelle put the photo down again, it didn't answer the question of why the man was dead, but her brother was now dead as well, whatever it was they were both involved.

Isabelle sat down in front of the file again, she knew she wouldn't be able to sleep now and she was happy to work with Sherlock.




Isabelle had disappeared the next day, she knew she had to go home there would be a funeral and she knew it was mandatory that she be there. When she arrived at the gates of her house the flags were at half mast, she assumed the rest of England's would be soon, she was surprised when there was press already there, obviously they knew that her brother had been admitted into the hospital.

When the day of the funeral arrived her family made a statement, Isabelle stood with her sisters while her mother and father talked about how great Mathias had been. After the statement for the press they went to bury her brother, of course it was all on tv, everyone claimed that the whole country grieved with them but Isabelle somehow doubted that. Isabelle had Josephine comfortably settled on her hip, the four year old girl held a red rose just like the rest of the family, when the ceremony was over they all placed the roses on top of the coffin.




John was lounging in the living room watching the telly when the report came on. "Sherlock, I think I know where Isabelle went." When Sherlock appeared John pointed at the TV with the breaking news headline that read "Family mourns loss of Mathias Winston, England mourns with them". John glanced at Sherlock. "Her brother died, and she didn't tell anyone."




When Isabelle returned she walked up to Sherlock's flat. John noticed her before Sherlock did. "Isabelle..." Isabelle looked at John with a gentle smile. "I'm alright, I just have some files for Sherlock. These are all of the classified cases that Mathias was working on. Only one of them crosses over with the first victims cases, and it has to do with North Korea." Isabelle let Sherlock take the files from her. "My father was reluctant to continue letting you work the case, I told him I trusted you, so he gave me the files, and you have his blessings with the case. He just wants to know who killed Mathias."

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When Sherlock found out that there was another victim, it was like a reality check to him. He had gotten so caught up in his own little world, shared with Isabelle, on why the first victim was killed, but when the second victim was found dead he remembered there's a Korean Assassin on the loss, and they need to focused on the who's, not the why's. For now, at least. It wasn't is style, and frankly he didn't think of changing what he was investigating until he realized who their second victim was. He had figured some of it out, the way Isabelle seamed to suddenly realize that the other man in the photo was her brother, he knew she must of gotten some news about him that reminded her.

He was a little cross at first, her not telling them who the second victim was, but at the same time he understood. She wasn't allowed to say anything about her family when it came do deaths and work. The press was gonna, and did, have a field day with this. As he watched the telly he was frowning deeply. He pitied Isabelle. He understood loss, but not of a 'close' family member. Although he wasn't the slightest surprised when he saw her stone cold façade on the news as she held her sister and put a rose on Mathias' coffin.

When Isabelle had come back into the flat and given them the files Sherlock instantly started going through them. "What about suicide?" Sherlock asked. John gave him a 'really?' look, which in return Sherlock gave him a confused scrunched up face. "This is her brother, Sherlock, have some respect... And I don't think she's okay enough to start working on this case," John said, glancing to Isabelle. "You heard her! She was perfectly fine, there's no reason for her not to continue on. If anything she could help us even more, and she can catch the Korean bastard that killed her brother... Now, what about suicide?" Sherlock repeated.

John frowned, being defeated. When no one answered, obviously needing more insight into his thoughts he sighed. "Your brothers lover was just killed. Could it be that your father hired someone to kill the first victim, and your brother was so upset that he killed himself with the same poison? I'm sure there's evidence to say that there was no drug added to prolong the start of the first drug," Sherlock looked around expectantly. John sighed, rubbing his temples. "Why am I friends with robots?... And no, weren't you guys talking about our Vomit Victim getting a little to nosey? Doesn't Mathias work in government with your father?" Sherlock made a 'humph' noise, realizing he was grasping at stuff, jumping to conclusions.

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"Mathias used to work alongside Mycroft actually." Isabelle replied to John softly, "Mathias doesn't....Didn't like secrets. I don't think our first victim was being nosy, I think Mathias told him. Someone decided they both needed to be taken out of the picture." After Isabelle explained a little bit about what her brother and Mycroft were working on she decided to head over to her own flat. "You could probably get more information from Mycroft, he was actually working the cases. If he has a problem just tell him to talk to me or my father. He can't say no to us." Isabelle moved down the stairs and across the street to her own flat, she unlocked the door slipping inside quickly closing it and locking it.

She slid down the length of the door tears filled her eyes by the time she was on the floor, she covered her mouth to refrain from making any noise. Mathias had always tormented Isabelle as a little girl, but siblings did that, he had still been her big brother, protecting her when she needed to be protected and taking her side no matter what the story was. Yet, Isabelle was just realizing how many secrets were between them, how the royal life had trained them to be secretive hide anything that didn't count as acceptable, pain, suffering of any kind, apparently being gay was one as well. If he had told her she would have supported him of course she would have, but he didn't and now he was gone, and like usual Isabelle was behind closed doors suffering, the side of her no one knows about taking over.




In the next couple of days, which soon turned into a couple of weeks; Isabelle distanced herself from the case, from everyone and everything really, finding solace in either her piano or her violin. The only time she dealt with the case was when Mycroft decided he didn't like Sherlock knowing all of the classified stuff he knew about those missions and Isabelle had to silence the childish feud between the brothers.

Alyssa had come into London a few days ago, Isabelle was the oldest of the girls and with Edmund grieving the loss of his twin, Isabelle was a rock among the other children in her family, like she always was, and Alyssa was in desperate need of a rock. Out of all of the children in the Winston family Alyssa was closest to Mathias most said she was closer to him than his own twin brother was so the loss hit her impossibly hard. Isabelle had lost her older brother, but Alyssa had lost her best friend, her older brother, and the foundation that kept her from crumbling. So once again Isabelle was hiding her own pain in order to sooth the pain of her sister.

When the doorbell rang, Isabelle handed Alyssa her cup of tea answering it, she was rather surprised when she saw Molly, John, and Sherlock all standing at the door, it seemed Molly had convinced the boys to come over with her and see if she was alright. "Who is it Bella?" Alyssa called from the couch, Isabelle looked over her shoulder. "Just some friends of mine Lyss." She stepped aside letting them in handing everyone tea, once she had finished Isabelle took a deep breath. "Alyssa, this is Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, and Molly Hooper."

"Sherlock? Isn't that the detective working on Matt's case?" Alyssa asked looking at Isabelle for conformation, it was clear that Alyssa was in bad shape, her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her voice hoarse, while Isabelle looked like she always did, perfectly fine. "Yes." Alyssa looked at Sherlock forcing a small smile onto her lips. "Isabelle suggested you, she said she trusts you, that's why Father gave her the okay. Bella doesn't trust anyone." Isabelle shifted slightly, she didn't know why her sister found it necessary to give that information, But Isabelle didn't say anything, she just smiled. "Well, I am going to get some biscuits I will be right back."

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Sherlock had been engulfed in the case the entire day. He really refused to leave the apartment unless it was to do field work. When John finally pulled him away, he needed Molly's help and encourage meant, saying that they wanted to go see Bella, who hadn't been active for the past few weeks. Even then Sherlock threw a little fit on the way across the street, saying Isabelle could figure things out on her own. When he actually walked into the apartment though a wave of realization hit him when he saw Alyssa, Isabelle's sister.

His detective side instantly shut down as he looked between the two siblings. "We've very sorry for your loss," He said, squatting down in front of Alyssa. He was frowning, his eyes showing that he was actually sad for the two girls. "Me and John are doing everything in our power to figure out who murdered your brother..." He looked to Isabelle, who looked as stone faced as always as she made biscuits. When she caught his eye he offered her a smile, standing up. John gave him a weird look. He'd never truly seen him act.... Human.

Sherlock went over and stood next to Isabelle in the kitchen and offered his help. His body language kinda gave off what he was thinking, though. 'I know you're in pain'. He was seeing if she could read him. He could easily see, in the way Isabelle hesitated sometimes, and seemed to have something on her chest, but he never pointed it out or said anything. if Bella wanted help she would go to someone on her own accord. It wasn't his place to pry. "I really am so-" He started, but Molly, who wouldn't stand for any questioning went over, mishearing the conversation Sherlock was trying to start, so she slapped him over the head. He winced away, giving Molly a shocked look. It was a full on back hand. "Leave the case alone will you?" Molly growled. Sherlock glared at her. "I was saying sorry," He growled back. Taking a deep breath he regained his composure. Grabbing the tray of biscuits and tea from Isabelle he went over into the other room, giving everyone anything they wanted from the tray.

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Isabelle caught what Sherlock was conveying with his body language but didn't say anything, she just smiled softly at him thanking him for his help. When Molly came back Isabelle watched Sherlock take the tray and go back into the living room of her flat, Molly went over to Isabelle gently placing a hand on her back. "How are you doing Bella?" She took in a breath. "I'm alright." Isabelle replied softly heading back into the living room sitting down beside Alyssa. She gently put her arm around her sister letting Alyssa lean most of her weight on Isabelle's body, she brushed a few strands of Alyssa's brown hair off of her face wiping a few of the tears away.

After a while of sitting and talking Isabelle took Alyssa back to her bedroom closing the door halfway so she could hear if Alyssa called her for anything before coming back into the living room sitting back down on the couch, she put her fingers to her temple, her head was pounding. "How is Alyssa, Bella?" Molly asked slight concern in her voice, Isabelle cleared her throat sitting up more. "She's better than she was when she first came. Out of all of us Alyssa was closest to Mathias, Edmund doesn't even know him as well as Alyssa did. We all lost a brother, Alyssa lost her best friend and her brother."

Isabelle moved to pick up her tea cup her hand was shaking to the point she had to use both of her hands instead of just the one, she put her tea cup back down clenching her hands into a fists to try and stop them from shaking even though they knew they wouldn't it was anxiety causing them to shake, until her anxiety went down she knew they wouldn't stop. "Why don't I play something?" Molly nodded with an excited smile which in turn made Isabelle smile. "Piano or violin?"

"Piano. I haven't heard you play the Piano yet." Molly replied, Isabelle moved over to the piano sitting down on the bench gently resting her fingers on the keys, she started playing the song that was on the sheet music but didn't actually look at the music for guidance, she had it memorized, she just had the music out for Alyssa as her sister wasn't as good at memorizing pieces as Isabelle was.




It was a few more days before Alyssa returned home, Molly had come every day since making sure Isabelle was doing alright. Even John would show up and bring her over to the flat for tea and a little bit of a conversation. Today it was just Sherlock in the flat though, the case files scattered everywhere she wondered if he was actually getting somewhere or just going around in circles. Even Isabelle would admit it was a hard case. Isabelle watched Sherlock as he worked letting him bounce ideas off of her when he needed to, she just enjoyed being around him, it helped her.

"Ah, Miss Winston, what a pleasant surprise." Mycroft said with a smirk as he walked into the room, he caught Sherlock rolling his eyes. "Now, Sherlock, is that anyway to great your brother?" Isabelle shrugged when Sherlock looked in her direction, she couldn't really do much about the brotherly feud that never seemed to end between the two of them. "I think he's busy Mycroft." Isabelle said in an attempt to help Sherlock with his older brother. "He hasn't managed to get anywhere for weeks."

"It isn't exactly a black and white case." Mycroft rolled his eyes sitting in Sherlock's chair. "I personally think your father made a mistake." Isabelle laughed a little bit. "It wasn't my fathers orders. It was mine." Isabelle looked over at Mycroft, he wouldn't challenge her and he definitely wouldn't challenge her father, she knew that, it was her orders on her fathers okay. He simply scoffed crossing his legs looking back to Sherlock. "Found anything knew brother dear? Miss Winston seems to have such faith in you."

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Sherlock would occasionally stop by Isabelle's flat. It was the most he could do, seeing as he wasn't very good at consoling people, but he liked Bella enough to at least see how she was. When she came over he enjoyed being able to talk to someone, usually buried in work. It was all he ever did these past few weeks, is figure out who killed the two lovers. So far he was getting nowhere. It was bothering him, day after day looking the evidence over hundreds of times a day and still not think of anything.

When him and Isabelle were talking in his flat, he was sitting on the floor surrounded with work. He visibly showed is annoyance when Mycroft walked into the room, and quickly the annoyance turned into anger when Mycroft started to treat him like a child. "Have you come here to help, or just hinder my ability to think further?" Sherlock snapped at Mycroft. The bothers glared at one another. "I've come to help," Mycroft admitted finally. "Well we don't need it," Sherlock growled. Mycroft started to laugh, and Sherlock looked to Isabelle, who was giving him a weird look, as if saying 'screw your pride, accept his help'.

Sherlock's lips pursed as he looked back to Mycroft. "What information do you have to give us?" He mumbled. Mycroft gave his brother a smile. "Have you thought of seeing who's bought the items for the poison anytime soon?" Mycroft asked. Sherlock instantly grew impatient, looking annoyed again. "Mycroft, all of the stupid mixtures are common all over the world..." Mycroft had a little, annoying, triumphant look on his face. "Not in the added poison in the first victim... It has violet extract... It's extremely rare, and there are only a few buyers in the entire world..."

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"We narrowed down where the killer came from, North Korea, could the poison have come from there?" Mycroft shrugged a little bit. "I was thinking more the Japanese area, but Korea is a definite possibility." he replied with seemingly no real interest to it, Isabelle knew Mycroft didn't like being wrong, but if the killer was from Korea and the poison could have come from there Isabelle assumed it would have. "Did you talk to Alyssa, Sherlock? She knew Matthias best." Isabelle drew in a breath glancing at Sherlock. "Alyssa isn't in the state to talk to anyone." Mycroft skimmed over Isabelle to see if he could decipher why but he couldn't read her, if something happened to the Winston girl it would have been kept from the news unless extremely minor that's how the royal family worked. "Has something happened to your sister?"

"No she just isn't really talking to anyone right now." Isabelle moved into the kitchen of the flat quickly locating the tea pot and tea cups which made Mycroft chuckle slightly. "Are you having a love affair with my brother Miss Winston?" Isabelle felt her cheeks heat up so she didn't turn around. "Of course not, what gives you that idea?"

"Well, it's just nobody knows where anything is in this apartment other than John and I'm still convinced he is loving a love affair with my little brother." Isabelle let her hair fall over her face as she started making the tea hiding the flush in her cheeks, she was fond of Sherlock, and knew she was developing feelings for him, something she was going to do to keep hidden from everyone.




"Oh, your still here." John smiled at Isabelle but frowned at Mycroft when he walked in with shopping setting on the kitchen table, Mycroft smiled at John as he sat down in his chair, John didn't seem overly pleased by Mycroft's pressence, nobody really seemed to be. "When did Mycroft got here?" John directed the question at Sherlock, but Mycroft had handed him another file and Isabelle had really given up hope at trying to get through to Sherlock after that point, John seemed to agree with that. "He got her just after noon." Isabelle replied when Sherlock didn't, she just glanced over at the Detective before looking back at John. "Been causing chaos since he got here, since these two can't get along for five seconds without insulting each other."

"Its because Sherlock thinks he's the smart one, and he isn't the smart one."
Mycroft directed the last part of the sentence towards Sherlock.

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Sherlock glared at Mycroft, standing up. "If you're going to be an ass about everything then get out," He snapped, having just about enough of is brother. It was bad enough that he was uselessly helping, but now he was just insulting him. Mycroft returned his glare, the brothers having a stare down. The only reason Sherlock looked away was because John cleared his throat. "Will you two stop?" He huffed, already done with hearing the two brothers 'tiny' fuss. Sherlock frowned, going back to his files. Mycroft got up, patting his pants down. "Well then I assume this is my queue to leave... Miss Winston, John.... Sherlock." He gave a little bow to his head, Sherlock giving him a venomous look.

When Mycroft left Sherlock went back to his normal chatter to Isabelle, almost always answering his own questions. Around midnight John had left to go back to Mary, so it was just him and Bella left. Sherlock looked up from the file Mycroft had given him, and over to Isabelle who looked like she was taking a break from reading. "I'm sorry that my brother questioned you when he first got here, about what our friendship was... He's a jackass."




(OOC: Sorry that was so short, I didn't really know what to do, and I thought that maybe you'd want Sherlock to show an actual human emotion? xD... Also I'm busy so I had to get up multiple times so I lost all my ides.)

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Isabelle smiled softly at Sherlock when he spoke, she shrugged her shoulders at his comment. "I've been asked a lot worse. You get used to being questioned when your whole life is out in the open." She closed the file she had been looking at setting it down on the floor with a few of the others she had gone over, moving to the kitchen Isabelle poured herself a cup of tea from the new pot she had brewed, she also brought one over for Sherlock knowing he would probably want one as well. John made it a point to always tell her that Sherlock didn't eat or drink when he was working but every so often Isabelle would catch him eating the things she left for him.

When morning came around Isabelle went over to the window to watch the sun come up over the horizon, it was quickly becoming one of her favorite things to do when she worked all night with Sherlock. Isabelle crossed her arms pulling her sweater tightly around her body keeping her a little bit sheltered from the chill that was now in the room. She smiled when Sherlock came up beside her. "When I was younger, my sisters and I would always sneak out to watch the sun come up...It drove the security guards insane. No matter what they did, I always figured a way for us to get out of the house without getting caught."




Later in the day Isabelle left Sherlock's, Molly had asked her to help with some blood testing in the morgue and Isabelle needed a break from reading files. "Is Sherlock getting anywhere with the case?" Molly asked looking up from the test she was setting up, Isabelle kept looking through the microscope. "Slowly..." She started. "It's a hard case." A knock came form the door but Isabelle didn't move from where she was sitting as he heard Molly get up first, she thanked someone before walking over handing Isabelle the envelope.

Isabelle glanced away from the microscope at the letter picking it up and opening it, she furrowed her brows at what it said:

"I owe you.

J.M"


"Who is it from?" Isabelle stared at the letter a little longer. "It's initialed J.M." Isabelle replied, she knew that probably wasn't a good thing by the way Molly went pale like she had seen a ghost. "Does that name mean something?" Molly grabbed Bella's hand pulling her from the desk. "We need to go see Sherlock...Now."




"He's supposed to be dead!" Molly said pacing in front of Sherlock who was holding onto the letter, Isabelle was standing off to the side. "I'm more curious as to why he sent it to me." Isabelle spoke up for the first time since they got there. "Maybe because your royalty?" Molly replied as if it were the only answer in the world, Isabelle simply shrugged. "If you are going to threaten royalty you might as well threaten someone important. I'm not important. I'm not in line for anything, I'm not an heir to any estates, I'm just there to stand pretty."

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Sherlock was reading, taking a break from looking over files. He didn't sleep very often, but it never bothered him until one day Molly came storming into his flat, her face as white as a bed sheet. Sherlock's eyebrow went up, but when he saw Isabelle instantly worry came over him. "What's wrong?" Sherlock asked, standing up from where he was sitting. When Molly gave him the note he stared at it, seemingly reading it 500 times before looking up at Molly. His face was starting to lose it's color, too.

"Call John," he said to Molly before turning to Isabelle. He grabbed her hands. "Is this the first time he's contacted you?" Sherlock completely ignore her 'I'm not special' statement. He knew you didn't have to be special for Moriarty to go after you. Anger started to boil inside him. James should be dead! Why is he sending letters to Belle? "Is this the first time he's contacted you?" Sherlock looked Isabelle dead in the eyes, his were full of anger, worry, and confusion. In the background Molly could be heard franticly talking on the phone. "I don't know how he's still alive, just come over!" she yelled.

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"Is this the first time he's contacted you?"
Isabelle looked Sherlock in the eyes searching for any kind of answers she could get, she kept her hands in his as if she were afraid that if she let go something horrible were going to happen to her and he was acting as if that were the case as well. Isabelle had never seen Sherlock in such a state of what she could only describe as disorganization, it scared her seeing him that way, so worried, so out of place to how he usually was. Whoever this was sure knew how to get under Sherlock's skin.

"I don't even know who it is Sherlock." She replied keeping her eyes fixed on his. When she finally let go of his hands her own were shaking the anxiety in the room was unbelievably high between everyone who was there. When John got there Isabelle was sitting in Sherlock's chair her hands gently clasped together sitting in her lap, John glanced over at Sherlock before going to her kneeling before her. She barely registered that his fingers were on the pulse point in her wrist, he was checking her vitals but why? "Do you feel alright Isabelle?" John asked putting his finger up which she naturally followed, up down, left right.

"I feel fine." She replied softly glancing over at Sherlock, he still seemed unbelievably on edge, she wanted to do something for him ease the anxiety he was clearly feeling, she just wanted to reach out to him, she wasn't sure what was coming over her. "Just the letter then?" John asked directing the question at Sherlock and Molly who seemed to both just nod.

"But why did he send it to Bella?" Molly asked looking at her friend. "Perhaps, for whatever reason he thinks Bella is a good way to get to Sherlock." John suggested causing Isabelle to shift her gaze from Sherlock's back to her hands.




Bella had eventually fallen asleep curled up in Sherlock's chair, while John had returned to Mary and Molly had returned to her husband Isabelle stayed with Sherlock feeling that her leaving the flat, leaving his sight wouldn't help the matter as it seemed the letter being delivered to her personally was the cause of the distress between everyone. So, she stayed where she was drifting to sleep at around midnight.

"Miss me Sherlock?" Moriarty chuckled walking into the room, he assumed that Sherlock had been expecting him since Isabelle had received the letter. "You've had to have missed me a little bit." He continued moving towards Bella keeping his eyes fixed on her tiny sleeping frame. "So what is it about her? You have to tell me." Moriarty went over to her picking up a piece of her red hair holding it between her fingers chuckling at the reaction Sherlock gave though Bella didn't stir at all.

"What makes her so special, that she can make even your blood run hot? You never looked at the others that way. The stolen glances, its sickening really." He clicked his tongue putting his hands in his pockets catching Sherlock's glare. "Falling prey to your human instincts? How boring you have become Sherlock, how...ordinary. She is pretty I will give you that, you might has to share her with me." He chuckled slightly, now he was just tempting a reaction out of the detective.

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Sherlock glared at Moriarty, and when he touched Isabelle's hair his face visibly reddened. "You keep your hands off of her," Sherlock demanded, his voice a deep growl. He took a few steps forward, attempting to put distance between Isabelle and Moriarty. He was infuriated, his anger overcoming is questions and curiosity. He didn't want to ask questions, he just wanted the intruder out. Moriarty smiled, seeing how probing got the reaction he wanted. He backed up, knowing that Sherlock would strike him if he didn't do as he was told. "Oh? Did I strike a nerve in the nerveless Sherlock Holmes?... She really has changed you, hasn't she?" Moriarty cackled.

Sherlock's brows lowered as his anger was starting to spin out of control. "Get out," He growled through clenched teeth. His nose started to wrinkle in disgust. Moriarty stared at him, a small smile in his eyes. "You best get rid of her, Sherlock, if you wish to go back to the way you use to be... Unfeeling... Straight forward... No distractions... Focused" Sherlock took a few steps forward, his fists tightening. Moriarty's face contorted into one of a look of fear for a split second as he franticly took a few large steps back. Quickly gaining his composure he glared at Sherlock. "I will win this battle, Sherlock... I always win."

Sherlock sprung forward before Moriarty could react. He grabbed the other mans perfectly tailored shirt. Shoving him against the wall, he pressed his face close to Moriarty's. "You didn't win the day you shot yourself... That was you... Giving up... Losing," Sherlock hissed. Fist still wrapped in Moriarty's shirt he shoved him towards the door of the flat before shoving him out and down the stairs. Moriarty toppled down them, letting out a cry of pain when his wrist smacked against the edge of one of the stairs, bone cracking as he rolled on it, breaking his wrist. He got up without a moments hesitation when he his the ground floor, glaring up at Sherlock. "You'll regret that" He growled before storming out of the flat. Sherlock glared down the stairs before turning back, going into the living room again.

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The noise from the encounter surprisingly didn't wake Isabelle up, though she hadn't been sleeping this was the first time she had actually slept in she didn't know how long so perhaps it wasn't so surprising that she didn't wake up. She did wake up in the morning to the sun light filtering into the room, she stretched slightly before opening her eyes. She didn't see Sherlock at first until she looked over at the kitchen where she saw the detective. She got up and went over to him.

"Did you sleep at all?" Isabelle assumed he hadn't but decided she would ask anyway. According to John Sherlock rarely slept if at all, she wondered how he didn't collapse of exhaustion, she had come close to doing that herself a few times. She looked at him smiling slightly at the detective, he needed to smile more, he was always so serious. "Did you get any further with the case?"

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"It's easier to know it than to explain why I know it."

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"Dear god what is it like in your funny little brains?"

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"Dear god what is it like in your funny little brains?"

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"It's easier to know it than to explain why I know it."

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