My Detective Roommate [Sherlock Holmes]

After Watson went to the Grange Manor, he unexpectedly met the Sir.

What is even more surprising is that the Jazz seem to have been prepared for this matter.

"Mycroft Holmes, the elder brother of the great detective, has already told me everything," the Sir's hair was mixed with silver, and his eyes showed a shrewdness that was completely different from his son's. He slowly turned the ring in his hand, "I have already Cleaned up the mess for Hudson once, it was a favor to Sherlock Holmes, this time it is a favor to her for treating my son."

"Wait, what do you mean...?" Watson didn't realize that this was the direction.

"If your friend is calm enough, and Ms. Hudson is acting as she always is, I think she should be quite safe."

Watson still didn't understand, so he only borrowed the carriage from Sir, and was going to look for Sherlock on the cliff.

"Doctor Watson!"

Watson turned his head and saw Laiburn who was catching up quickly with a worried expression on his face.

Even in his haste, the young gentleman did not forget to salute him, and then said hastily, "It's Rhea—I mean, is something wrong with Dr. Heston?"

ended.

Adelia pointed the gun at Moran again—pointing at herself was just a signal, prompting the person on the opposite side to shoot.She breathed a long sigh of relief: "Sir, I'm afraid you are too confident in yourself."

Moran had been shot in the right arm, and his gun was stepped on by Adlia: "Good job, Hudson, good job."

"Let me teach you a lesson, Colonel Moran," Adlia raised her eyebrows, "your so-called disembowelment—if it wasn't for saving lives, I wouldn't have picked up the scalpel."

"Rhea!"

She heard someone shouting from a distance.

Ah, it was Layburn's voice. She was a little helpless, probably hurried over after hearing a few words from Jazz. She looked at Moran on the ground and felt a little tricky for a while.

"Aren't you going to kill me? To maintain your image in front of your suitors?" Moran was still in the mood to tease.

Adelia knew from the look in his eyes that he was ready to fight back at any time, but this time, letting him hold the gun again would be very bad. With just one kick of her foot, Moran's air gun arrived. out of his reach.

Adelia murmured inwardly, why the people from McCoff didn't come, and she still said: "I'm afraid you are more useful alive than dead."

She took out a small bag from the pocket of her skirt, took out the wet handkerchief with one hand, and the small bag casually fell on the ground, then she stepped on his uninjured hand, bent down and covered it his muzzle.

—and then his eyes closed, and it took her a while to let go.

A woman who lives alone must carry something with her.

A man wearing a beret was gradually approaching, and Adlia asked vigilantly, "Who is it?"

The man was silent for a while, and his voice was rough and jerky: "Ma'am, I am sent by Mr. Holmes."

In these long years, Adlia has become accustomed to corresponding "Holmes" to Mycroft Holmes instead of the original one, but every time she mentions this name, she still feels a little dazed.

The man's hat was pushed down so low that she couldn't see his face clearly, which was also in line with Mycroft's habit of sending someone to her every time.But she couldn't tell what kind of familiarity it was that made her open her mouth to say his name.

Until she saw his eyes.

"Sherlock—" Her lips moved, and she could barely hold the gun in her hand.

But he didn't respond to her, he squatted down, tore off Moran's vest lying on the ground, and bound Moran's hands like a rope.

Adelia just watched his side face pursing his lips silently—she wanted to speak, but she could only open her mouth in vain, and a big teardrop rolled down.

"Riya!" It was Layburn, he finally ran up, and panicked when he saw his sweetheart crying.

But Adlia didn't respond to him, her mind was blank now.

Watson followed closely behind Layburn, seeing that Layburn rushed up and embraced Adlia in his arms, he was still panting, his light brown eyes couldn't hide his worry.But she was as straight as wood, unable to react.

Sherlock watched the drama like a spectator.

Soon, Laiburn also noticed that Adelia was staring blankly at the worker, and suddenly realized his abruptness, hesitated for a moment, and then slowly let go of his hand.

Now, she was close to him, and Sherlock slowly closed his eyes and opened them again, making sure that the person in front of him was really her.He wanted to speak, whether it was to celebrate her life or to blame her for hiding—but many times, every time he opened his eyes and made a sound, she left.

Watson was behind and pulled Lebourn, but Lebourn still stood stubbornly beside Adlia like a loyal knight.

"It's great that you're still alive." His tone was flat, and he didn't even seem to have emotional fluctuations—he remembered that in the letter she asked him to give her a hug when they reunited, but it didn't seem appropriate now, if there was already someone beside her a guardian.

She obviously wanted to say something too, but her lips trembled and she couldn't speak, but her tears came before her voice, and her first syllable turned into a subdued whimper, and then she dropped the gun, Like a rampaging little beast, it crashed into his arms.

He stared down at the top of her hair, at her thin shoulder blades.When she hugged him, she always liked to look for his neck, but at this moment it was filled with her tears.

"I'm sorry—I'm sorry," she cried.

His heart seemed to be softened by her tears, bitter and salty, covering up a faint pain.

She thought that hugging him would make her feel at ease, but he still didn't respond, which made her tremble even more. She wanted to ask him if he should let go—if he said yes, she would walk away and never appear again in his sight.But she wanted to explain that she didn't try to find him.She couldn't speak, she was going to die like this.

Then she finally heard him sigh heavily, and felt his ear tip being kissed gently.

"It's not right, Adélia."

He took off his hat, threw away his wig and beard, and the face that belonged to Sherlock appeared, but his expression was a complex look that Watson had never seen before.

Then he finally held her down, pressing her into the deepest part of his arms.

Standing here, Watson felt like a light bulb. He really wanted to say something, but he had never seen Sherlock look like this, nor had he seen his red eyes.

From the grass, two or three people appeared on the tree, which made Watson vigilant and almost put on a defensive posture.But they didn't come for the only lady, but silently escorted away the unconscious man on the ground.

And the other person was wearing a weird peaked cap, as if he couldn't understand the situation: "Then, Moran and John Clay, we will take them away, Ms. Heston, you are safe for the time being."

He didn't wait for a response and left directly.

If it was all safe--Watson pulled the distraught young man--they might as well not be light bulbs.

Of course, he might have to appease the lovelorn.

Sensing that the trembling of the girl in his arms had finally stopped slightly, Sherlock wanted to let go, but was hugged even tighter.He knew her uneasiness, but even he himself didn't understand the situation at the moment, so he simply hugged her tighter again according to his heart - at least he was sure that she was still alive.

"I just want to wipe your tears." He whispered in her ear.

"Don't look at me—that's embarrassing."

Yes, she never wanted him to see her embarrassed appearance, so she had to cover his eyes when kissing.

When she said that, he let go instead, forcing her to raise her head rather forcefully, and she closed her eyes and twitched, her soft hands still hugging the back of his neck.

He held her wet face from crying, and gently wiped away her tears with his thumb.

"I never cry," she said.

He affirmed: "I know."

Then he put the girl back into his arms and patted her comfortingly.

After a while, he pulled away from these emotions, called out and looked around and then secretly glanced at their friend: "Watson! Are you here in a carriage?"

Watson glanced at Layburn: "We came in the Brackenstadt's carriage."

The girl in his arms twitched and said, "You can go back in my carriage."

Sherlock was silent for a moment. "What is your relationship with the Brackenstadts?"

She replied in a low voice: "I will treat Xiaopang's illness, and we can be regarded as friends after the illness is cured."

In the middle of speaking, he hiccupped and his eyes were red, which was really pitiful.

Sherlock hummed in a low voice, half-hugged and half-supported Adlia to accompany her down the mountain, nodded politely as he rubbed shoulders with Layburn, and then said to Watson: "I'll take Anne home first—she A little scared."

Adelia followed him for a long distance in a daze, and the crying stopped. She wanted to find a handkerchief, but remembered that she had forgotten it, so she could only roughly wipe her face with her sleeve, so her His face turned even redder.

Sherlock sighed: "You should at least be gentle with yourself."

Fortunately, he brought a handkerchief and wanted to wipe it for her, but she took it away.

Adlia clutched her handkerchief, and asked him suddenly, "Who is Annie?"

The detective was at a loss for words, but he pretended to be indifferent: "Who knows, maybe Adrian meant it."

When they walked down the mountain, the coachman had been waiting for them on his horse for a long time.

Sherlock got into the car first, and then took Adelia with both hands to help her into the car.As soon as she got in the car, she couldn't wait to get tired of him, which made him a little funny and helpless.

Just like a stray cat, you give her a few bites and warmth, and she will stand beside you, reluctantly accepting you. At first, she won’t allow you to touch her, and she only turns her belly occasionally for you to see. Can actively put its head under your hand.I was there every day, but turned around and left without warning one day, as if I could live well without you.When they met again, they seemed to lean over affectionately.

But he just didn't think she was having a good time.

Her hands were cold, and she held his right hand tightly, so he shook it back seriously.

"Can I have a kiss?" she whispered.

He couldn't tell whether his voice was more cheerful or more reproachful: "It's been almost four years, girl, shouldn't you think about what you should say to me?"

So she became restless and silent.

After a long time, he put her hand on his lips and touched it lightly, before saying, "It's not convenient in the car."

The author says:

Ah, counting the progress, I have been writing for almost half a year before I knew it... What a wonderful journey on Baker Street.It's been half a year.

Old Fu was furious: Why did you call her "Riya"?

Turning to look at ADR: Annie, I'll take you home.

adr: who is annie?

ps, slap in the face, I opened a pre-acceptance for a lucky roll, if you are interested, you can be happy.Then after this book is finished, find a time to open it (.

So Watson decided to quit [Comprehensive]

感谢在2022-01-1323:43:08~2022-01-1418:35:33期间为我投出霸王票或灌溉营养液的小天使哦~

Thanks to the little angel who threw the mine: 1 little dongdong;

Thanks to the little angel of the irrigation nutrient solution: 10 bottles of tilapia e; 1 bottle of hard to wake up from a dream;

Thank you very much for your support, I will continue to work hard! ?