I understand love, but I could never bother myself with the feeling of love or trying to find love. After all the thought of being alone never bothered me. I don't love people as love is nothing more than an emotion many use as an excuse for marriage and other meaningless fusses. I understand it. I use the "charm" of it. But I don't go looking for it. I don't adore people, I admire them.

Those people are the people closest to me.

My first of two examples is Lestrade. I admire him for his ability to have tolerance for his team constantly brought down by my intellect and instant solving of crimes, and I also admire him from his constant suppression of punching me in the face because of his wrathful envy of my intellect. Or perhaps it is my arrogance rather than my intellect. Either way, Lestrade's suppression is admirable.

John is my second and best example. Now matter how many crimes we solved together or how long we've known each other, he also seems surprised and impressed whenever I solve a crime. I admire his great acting. I also admire his ability to care so much for people. It's something I could never do. I also admire when he catches something I thought he wouldn't.

That aside, I've only admired one woman. The woman. My encounter with her was brief and quite spectacular. Our little adventure had to come to an end. She is now a previous chapter in my life. Although, like many stories, a chapter should not repeat, there is a likelihood of a similar chapter. The likelihood of the woman entering my life again was slim. However, like the woman, SHE came into my life unexpectedly. Another woman to admire.

It was a dark Tuesday afternoon. It was cloudy and I just happened to walk down an alley as she seemed to be forced to eat some sort of poisoned chocolate.

Did this really happen? No. That's simply the story some would like to believe. Me being a romantic hero who just so happened to desire someone walking down an alley. That is most likely to be John's story. However, I did not meet her directly for quite some time.

I was going to be on a case for Lestrade as usual. There was something strange about this case.

As any case would start, I was bored and there was a client. He was ordinary and had very generic features. I thought of all the possibilities of affairs, boredom, an elopement-- any excuse a woman would have to get away from this man. However, he seemed very neat and precise with the way his suit should look.

He was probably OCD, and she thought of him as too controlling. So she left. However, judging from his need of her, she probably thought he was too dependent of her. His suit looked expensive, so he was probably too needy and controlling. Indeed, she must have left him for someone else who was more liberal.

"I'm telling you, Mr. Holmes, she's gone."

"And I am telling you, she's tired of you."

Adrian's brows furrowed. "Why would you say that? I'm not even sure if she and I were together."

I looked at him with furrowed brows. "Why didn't you tell me that before?" 

Adrian paused. "That was the first thing I said." 

"No. You walked in saying, 'she's gone! I can't find her! I don't even know anything about her! Help me please! I'm so useless and can't think!'" 

Adrain paused and lowered his gaze. "I didn't say I was useless."

"You might as well have." I stood by my chair.

John walked in, eyeing Adrian. "Client?" He placed his jacket on the coat hanger and sat down.

"I hope so," Adrian said desperately.

"You can stop hoping." I sat down in my chair. "I won't take your case. Take it to a pub, or ask one of your non-existent friends to help you move on." 

"What?" Adrian seemed shocked. "Why not?" 

I rolled my eyes.

"What's going on," John asked.

"This man, Adrian, is looking for a woman he had a date with two nights ago. Sorry, was supposed to have a date with two nights ago. He believed they were a couple, but she didn't answer his texts nor was she to be found for the past two weeks. He says he doesn't have a real clue about where she could be or who she might really be. Now," I looked at the man, "leave. I will not take your case."

"I will pay double what clients usually pay," Adrian loudly and angrily said.

"Yelling won't make me want to take your case anymore than I do now," I said.

John sighed. "Sherlock, let's hear his story."

"I already have." I stared at John for a moment. "You won't want to listen to him."

John nodded. "Yes, I will. I always listen." 

My brows furrowed. "Well, I always listen too. I even text or multitask while listening while you give them your full attention. Most cases like his are just instantly solved." 

"This man says she's been missing for two weeks. In any normal situation, he would have found her a week ago. Now, she either doesn't want to be found, or something happened to her."

I stayed silent for a moment. I took a deep breath and faced Adrian. "Did she say the two of you were a couple, or did you just decide you were a couple?"

"We were a couple, I think," Adrian said.

"Did she say it or not?" My voice slightly raised.

Adrian paused. "I suppose not... but... She gave me her mobile and address. She even took me into her flat. That's how I found out she was missing. I called and the number was disconnected. I went to her place, talked to the landlord, and the flat turned out be unoccupied for the passed three months. She and I were there two weeks ago! It was filled with expensive furniture." 

This time John's brows furrowed. "An empty flat for three months?"

Adrian nodded. "It was strange too. Two weeks ago, it was full of furniture, and when I went back yesterday to find her, the flat was empty and dusty."

"Maybe you were drugged," John said.

"She didn't give me anything," Adrian said. "She wasn't like that."

"And what was this woman like," John asked.

"Adrian said she had long brown hair, wore black boots, and had cute but strange ears. She's also American, but she preferred the lifestyle and pop music of the United Kingdom," I said out of boredom.

Adrian nodded. "She didn't seem like the kind of girl who liked men in suits, but she was. The only real thing she told me about herself was that she liked the smart kind."

My phone received a text from Lestrade. I stood up. "I'm afraid I won't take your case, Adrian." I grabbed my coat as I began walking out the door.

"Why not," Adrian asked angrily. 

"I have something important to do. Come, John. Lestrade needs us." 

John rolled his eyes. "I just got back here." 

                                                       ~~~~~~~

"Did you enjoy taking your time getting here?" Lestrade asked me as we walked into a building with many flats. 

"Perhaps if London were smaller, I could have arrived here in ten seconds." I walked passed the yellow tape of the flat;s entrance door. "Is it in the bedroom?"

"Yes," Lestrade walked with me past the kitchen.

"What happened," I asked as I eyes Anderson typing something on his small laptop.

"A murder with an unknown weapon."

"What do you mean 'unknown weapon'," John asked as he followed me.

"We can't identify what the weapon was. It looked as if it had several layers," Lestrade said.

"Wouldn't the weapon be a serrated knife," John asked.

"No, John. The wound was in obvious layers." I began walking up the stairs. "A serrated knife would leave one layer when stabbed."

"But it's a layered knife," Anderson said as I walked past him.

"Keep testing whatever you're testing, Anderson." I walked into the bedroom and looked around. It was windowless, square, and completely empty. It was a bit past sunset, so the room was dark with light from the living room lighting it. "Where is it?"

Lestrade paused, looking around the room quickly. "It was right there! There was a corpse right there!" He walked out of the room. "Where the hell is the corpse," he yelled.

I looked around quickly. "Something doesn't seem right."

"You're right." John walked forward, looking for a trap door on the floor. "We have a walking corpse. They don't move last I checked. And the markings they made are still there." He crouched near the middle of the room.

My brows furrowed as I saw two Johns. "John, don't move."

John froze. "What's going on? Am I about to step on something?"

My head tilted as I noticed it was a reflection of John. "The corpse hasn't moved."

"What?"

"Look in front of you, John."

John lifted his head, noting his reflection. "It's a mirror."

"Hiding the body. This room isn't perfectly square." I walked forward and pushed the mirror up at base near the floor. It tilted upward, and we saw the corpse.

"The mirror--"

"was reflecting the room, making the room appear empty and the corpse gone." I stared at the corpse for a moment, remembering Lestrade believed the corpse was in here. "John, bring Lestrade quietly."

John quickly left and walked in with Lestrade.

"A mirror," Lestrade asked quietly.

I looked at him. "More importantly, a traitor. Someone set this mirror up before the crime and when everyone was gone."

Lestrade paused. "They're with us."

"Precisely." I looked around the room. I noticed the room had a bit of dust. "Who called you about the corpse, Lestrade?"

Lestrade shrugged. "A man who said he was looking for his girlfriend."

I noticed a playing card on one of the drawers. It was the ace of clovers. There was message, so I hid the card in my pocket. "John, I believe I will be taking Mr. Adrian Lagwood's case."