Sherlock Holmes and the Engineer's Thumb 1 | Page 38

Esme Arnold
‘I’m sitting here drinkng my tea, when all of a sudden they’re in front of the
fireplace!’ continues a shocked Mrs Hudson.
‘That’s all well and good Mrs Hudson but are you sure someone hasn’t stuck
something in your drink?’ Sherlock drawls out, his voice groggy from sleep, still
staring at the three strangers in the middle of the room.
‘Who are you?’
I tried my very hardest to get information of them but I ended up just staring at them
for a while. The first man was around 6’4, and towered over me with medium,
shaggy, brown hair and hazel eyes. He was wearing a plaid shirt with a jacket and
jeans.
The second man was around 6’3 and wore the same outfit as the first but with
differences in colour and a leather jacket. He had short hair (I couldn’t destinguish if
it was brown or blonde) with candy green eyes and freckles dusted across his nose
and cheeks.
The third man had striking ocean blue eyes and a tan trench coat. Underneath he
donned a white shirt and a blue tie with black dress shoes. Very formal compared to
the other two. The second man began to clear his throat as he spoke.
‘My name is Dean Winchester, this is my brother Sam,’ he pointed to the first
man, who in return waved, ‘And this is my friend, Cas, short for Castiel, but we don’t
have to be formal.’ indicating towards the third with a slight grin. Even I could tell that
there was something between them, and it didn’t take Sherlock any longer to notice
as well.
‘Do you by any chance know a Mr Moriarty?’ a questioning glace is thrown towards
both of us. If the rest of the conversation hadn’t intrigued Sherlock, then this
sentence certianly had.
‘Care for some tea?’
1 Hour Later
‘So you expect me to believe that Castiel is an angel, Moriarty is possessed by a
demon who takes thumbs and you magically zapped here from America?’ I splutter. I
honestly can’t believe any of the words that came out of their mouths. How ludicris.
The three look at each other for a brief moment before noding their head in
agreement with a mumur. Sherlock, suprisingly,