Chapter Text
I’m in Lestrade’s office to discuss Sherlock. I’ve made him laugh and my heart is aching.
There’s a commotion outside. A hulking man sidearms Donovan and lurches for the office door.
He draws a knife. Lestrade jumps up.
I assess instantly:
ceramic blade: premeditation
intent: murderous
inside NSY: irrational
grip: throwing not stabbing
office layout: favours attacker
onlookers: no help
best move: protect Lestrade
I launch myself at Greg and tackle him to the floor. The knife misses us by a breath and shatters against the window.
Lestrade’s tardy colleagues descend on the assailant. We’re momentarily alone behind the desk. My body blankets his and we’re breathing hard.
“Fuck.” His breath ghosts past my ear. “Thanks. You OK?” He runs his hands over my back, checking for blood. It feels like live voltage. “She said her ex was violent, but I never – . Christ. I’m finished with women. Too damn much trouble. I can live without sex. Sorry. Shut up, Greg.” He squeezes his dazed brown eyes shut and grimaces.
I linger a moment too long, cataloguing every sensation for later. He’s too distracted to notice.
I finally push myself up and offer him my hand. “You’ve committed a logical fallacy,” I say quietly. He looks confused.
I straighten my lapels and leave without another glance. I school my features to austerity.