Inside the restaurant the place looked posh, crystal chandeliers glowing, white tablecloths, a regular "rich people" vibe. It was really elegant, except for the yellow police tape across the entrance like an eerie sign.
Sherlock didn't hesitate. He ducked under the tape and strode inside, his eyes flicking over every chair angle, every messy table, even studying the salt and pepper shakers.
David slowly followed, looking around, the police were going back and forth across the dining hall chattering holding their flashlights.
David noticed a silver haired, man in a grey overcoat coming towards them, "must be the DI," David guessed.
He smiled politely at David, "Hello, I'm DI Lestrade," He nodded at him, "You must be Sherlock's friend, Detective Smith?"
David nodded smiling,
Sherlock exhaled, slightly impatient. "Yes, yes. Wonderful," He interjected. "Can we focus on this, now?"
Lestrade gave him a dry look. "Nice to see your enthusiasm hasn't changed." He gestured for them to follow. "A woman, Stacey Campbell, mid-thirties. Found in the ladies' room by a waiter after her date sent him when she didn't come back."
He pushed open the restroom door, Sherlock cut inside first, David close behind.
The woman lay crumpled near the sink, her hands clawed as if reaching for something, eyes frozen wide in terror. A syringe glinted on the tile beside her purse.
"We're thinking possible overdose or maybe an injection in process." Lestrade sighed.
Sherlock crouched, studying the woman's body, his eyes studying her, closely. "Collapsed mid-stall," He noted. "Injection site, thigh area." He squinted noticing a fresh second dot on her skin, "Appears she was taking a second dose, syringe looks barely full like she was in mid dose."
David glanced at Lestrade. "Any history of diabetes or allergies?"
"Not sure," Lestrade admitted with a sigh.
Sherlock rose slowly, scanning the room. "No forced entry. No struggle. Self-administered injection. But the branding on that syringe…" He glanced at David. "Someone had a diet secret." He sang.
"Overdose?" David suggested.
He scoffed, "Don't be stupid, the dose wasn't finished," Sherlock corrected. "Seems she was trying a second dose before collapsing."
David winced, picturing her smiling and being happy only minutes before.
David nodded. "We'll probably need to trace suppliers. And check any cameras." He sighed. He then pointed at female investigator, "Get names of people to interview." He told her before turning to leave.
Sherlock lingered a moment longer, his eyes fixed blankly on the lifeless figure, before finally following.
David paused glancing at Sherlock, noticing his thoughts already turning, "Go on, what do you think?"
He shrugged, "Obviously, she was giving herself an extra dose before eating dinner, clearly extra insurance." Sherlock muttered. "Stupid idiots always looking for a fast way to look good." He remarked.
David shot him a look, "Well, I wouldn't call it stupid." He said.
Sherlock glanced at him, "What would you call it?"
He shrugged, "Diet plan gone wrong, I guess." David replied sadly.
"Funny how these quick fix diets usually do." Sherlock grunted.
Back in the lab, Molly sat hunched over her microscope, trying to focus on some slides but her mind kept wandering back to Sherlock. Her attempt at makeup earlier hadn't worked but she wasn't surprised. She could walk in wearing nothing at all and he still wouldn't notice. Maybe Martha was right, maybe he never would notice her.
Just then the doors swung open, David stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket. "Ah, hello," He greeted, spotting her.
"Hi," Molly replied softly. Her eyes flicked past him, frowning. "Where's Sherlock?"
David shrugged, hanging his jacket on the rack. "Stayed behind. Probably just wanted to torment Lestrade a bit longer." He teased.
Molly smirked. "So, what happened?" She asked.
His expression changed, becoming somber. "A woman, Stacey Campbell. Found dead in a restaurant restroom. Appears to be an overdose but we're not sure," He reached into his pocket pulling out a small evidence bag. Inside, a syringe and a tiny glass bottle gleamed under the lights. He set it gently on the counter. "We were hoping you could take a look at this."
"Of course," Molly smiled taking the bag.
"Thanks." David smiled, he then studied her more closely. "Weren't you wearing makeup earlier?"
Molly's cheeks warmed. She lowered her gaze feeling slightly embarrassed. "Yeah, well, it wasn't working, so I washed it off."
"Well, you look lovely anyway." He said smiling at her.
Her blush deepened, "Um, thanks." She said shyly. Molly then sighed heavily, "I wish Sherlock would notice." She muttered.
David leaned against the table. "Ah, don't let it get to you. Sherlock has a habit of being trapped in his own little universe."
Molly just smiled grateful at him, "So, how did you meet him, anyway?" She asked curious.
"College," David said simply. "We were both taking the same science course. Well, I was taking it, Sherlock was trying to take over." He smirked.
Molly stifled a giggle. "Sorry, I just can't picture Sherlock as a university student."
David chuckled. "Truthfully, I think he was only there to show off. He did love his little debates with the professors."
She tilted her head. "How did you become friends?"
He shrugged. "I helped with a case he was working on." David replied. "Of course, he insists he solved it on his own," His tone becoming dry. "That's his story, anyway."
Molly smirked at that.
David straightened, sighing. "Well, I'd better go back and rescue poor Lestrade from Sherlock," He lightly joked. "Nice seeing you again." He gave her a soft smile before slipping out, the doors swinging shut behind him.
Sitting there, Molly leaned back in her chair. A thought slowly sparking, a slow, mischievous smile formed. Maybe…just maybe, there was a way to make Sherlock notice her after all.