Sherlock and Joan

They both sat in Gregson's office as they questioned Oscar about the drug dealer, they hadn't alisema a word to each other since leaving the brownstone. Sherlock could tell when she was annoyed with him, he had seen that look many times. He moved closer to her and buried his face in her hair.
'Joan, please, talk to me.' He kissed her shoulder. 'I'm sorry.'
She sighed.
'I know wewe are, but you've been keeping zaidi secrets from me first it was Irene, then your brother now this. How many zaidi can i expect?'
'No more.'
'You sure about that.' He placed his forehead on her shoulder, not wanting to look in...

Sherlock saw at least 3 different exits from where he stood but all were to far to hatch an escape attempt that wouldn't involve a casuality. He knew what is was like to be shot but didn't want to experience it again. He checked his watch it was ten to eight, he needed to send a signal to Gregson but how? He looked round him for something that could help, he noticed a button the right hand side of the ukuta which could be the buildings old whistle to alert the men work was finished. But getting to it would prove to be a challenge.

'Which one of wewe is lying?'
'Micheal we've been doing buisness...

'What are wewe doing here?'
'Can't a guy drop kwa and say hello?'
Sherlock stepped outside, shutting the door behind him.
'When the guy happens to be a current drug addict, no he can't.'
'You're one to talk.'
'I've been clean for almost 3 years.'
'Well congrats to you(!)' Oscar looked up at the brownstone. 'Nice place, daddy buy it for you?'
'He did.'
'You on your own?' Sherlock held up his left hand. 'Your married?'
'Almost two years.'
'Does she know about your past? Irene? The drugs?'
'She knows it all. Now, what do wewe want?'
'I was hoping for a fix.'
'Not likely, now if wewe excuse me.' Sherlock went...