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The Roommate

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The sun was streaming gently through the curtains, and they could hear the birds singing in the morning sun. Marcus woke first and soon watched affectionately as Joan's eyelids fluttered open.

“Hey,” she said, a bit shyly. Last night had been their first night.

“You look gorgeous first thing in the morning,” he said with a smile, and she smiled back, warm but sleepy still.

“Last night was… really great,” she said with a little laugh.

“I’m glad you think so too,” Marcus said and shifted closer to her, laying a light kiss on her shoulder.

Marcus almost jumped then as Sherlock threw open the door and bounded in. He walked over to Joan’s side of the bed and sat down, swinging his feet so that they rested on the bed as he leaned back on the headboard.

“Morning, Watson. I made excellent progress on the case last night.”

Marcus groaned, “You have got to be kidding me. Sherlock, get out of this bed. Right. Now.”

“Bell. Glad you’re here. Saves me a trip to the police station. Please convey to Captain Gregson that I am quite positive that Mr. Sayers is the killer. Watson, if this relationship with Bell continues, it will be quite convenient for our work. Something to keep in mind.”

Joan didn’t blink. She gently pushed Sherlock aside and stood up, wrapped in a sheet, and grabbed some clothes from her armoire. “Sherlock,” she said, “First, I’m going to get dressed. Then I’m going to talk to Bell. Then I’m going to need copious amounts of caffeine. Then, you and I are going to talk about boundaries yet again. And then, we can go visit Sayers, presuming you don’t think he’ll pull a gun on us.”

“I estimate it at no greater than a 10% chance. 20% at the most,” Sherlock said.

“Then going to see Sayers sounds like a bad idea,” Bell pointed out.

“I can assure you it’s an excellent idea,” Sherlock said.

Bell sighed. “Just get out, Sherlock.”

“Why?” Sherlock asked.

“So I can get dressed,” he said.

“Why? I’ve seen you naked in the locker rooms. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Sherlock. Get out of this room.”

“Fine. I’ve decided to let you come along to Sayers’ house as backup. But only because I deduce from Watson’s demeanor that you performed admirably last night.”

“Sherlock,” Joan said, voice full of warning.

“Fine, yes, but do hurry. We have a killer to catch,” Sherlock said as he finally left the room, closing the door behind him.

Marcus looked at Joan.

Joan just shrugged. “Now you see what I deal with every day.”