A/N: This is a short story my younger sister (code named Spring) wrote for creative writing class. I think it does a wonderful job of capturing Sherlock's personality.

Please take a second to review. It would make her day!

Disclaimer: Neither of us own Sherlock.

x

"Did you find anything from the video of the murder?" Ancar asked. Sherlock Holmes as they walked down the street at twilight.

"No." Holmes replied simply, his hands in his pockets.

"But how could you not have noticed—anything?" Ancar spat.

"Hmm, maybe it was the horrible quality of your security camera." Sherlock jabbed at him.

"If we don't catch him, another will die tonight. He's killed in a pattern, surely you know this! The governor won't stop until these murders are gone." The detective didn't reply "Sherlock!" Ancar yelled to get his attention.

With an over-exaggerated sigh, Sherlock stopped. "Ohhh what do you know? I recognize this lamp, it's familiar." He gestured to the completely ordinary street lamp next to him. "I know where the killer is." He continued walking.

"What?" Ancar stated in utter confusion. " From th—the lamp? How?"

Suddenly, Sherlock bumped into a woman as they were walking down the sidewalk. "Red lipstick is not a good color on you." Holmes stated rudely.

She awkwardly turned around for a second then walked faster.

"No need for the remark." Ancar commented as they continued their stride.

"Yes but now that she's self-conscious she won't realize the lack of metal clanging until we're well out of her sight" Sherlock held up between two fingers her ring of keys he took. He turned to an apartment and pushed one into a lock. It clicked, then he strode into the building.

"You could have just asked." Ancar stated, holding up his own set of keys that he always had around with him.

"Yes but that would take too much time." Sherlock replied bluntly.

He walked swiftly up the stairs, down a hallway, and unlocked a room. He strode carelessly in, a half-bored expression in his face. The man in the room jumped up from the couch, looking alarmed.

"Here you are, Ancar. Your murder, serial killer, drug dealer and terrorist, check his identity card and you'll see that it was actually quite obvious. Boring!" He added.

Ancar pointed a gun at the man and handcuffed him before he had the chance to respond.

"Wait, how?" The man asked, dumbfounded.

"It was quite simple, really." Sherlock responded. "In the recording you killed in front of a specific street lamp, the one right next to this building and the most recent person to rent here is you and not surprisingly, you have no background check_probably a bribe from the landlord—so logically, it's you." Sherlock stated quickly without pausing.

"That's quite the coincidence," Ancar stated and he whipped out his radio to call the other cops. "You just so happened to run across the exact same lamp, even though there are hundreds of the same model, and deduce that the murderer came from this apartment and this room? How? I heard you were good, but you're not that good."

"It had nothing to do with it, actually" Sherlock began, a hint of pride in his voice. "It was his keys on his pants in the video. I just pretended I didn't notice in hope of making this case go on a bit longer but—" He sighed. "back to boredom."

"Wha—Sherlock!" Ancar exclaimed in shock, but the detective was already out the door.

x

As long as my siblings keep writing Sherlock stories, I'll keep posting them here.