A/N: This one's a little more John-centric actually. Hope you guys like it. I was thinking of possibly turning it into a longer story. Please tell me if you think I should! Also, if the thing about a mayor seems wrong or silly, I know next to nothing about England's government. That was just the best thing I could think of. :)


Wind

The wind moaned in the trees, sighed through the chinked bricks of the one wall that stood near them, and then came down to swirl about Sherlock's ankles, tossing the bottom of his coat in circles.

He and John stood out in England's countryside. They were investigating the ruins of an old castle. Some thought the place was haunted, an idea at which Sherlock scoffed, rather loudly. Nevertheless, the mayor of a nearby town had recently come here and vanished and, since he had no other cases, the consulting detective had, at the repeated request of the mayor's replacement, agreed to go to the castle to poke around.

Next to him, John shivered though the wind was not cold and said, "This place gives me the creeps, Sherlock. Why did we have to come in the middle of the night?"

"To prove a point." Sherlock answered evenly.

"Such as?"

The detective rolled his head to one side and gave his friend a look that said 'Isn't it obvious?'

John rolled his eyes. "What? We're going to sit here all night to prove there's no ghost?"

Sherlock gave a single nod. "In a sense. Of course, I don't believe in ghosts. But, everyone we've talked to claims to have seen something here, always around midnight." Here, the detective rolled his eyes at the clique timing, then continued. "Therefore, if our "ghost" yet remains here, we will likely see him at that time."

John's eyes widened. He'd asked the question jokingly. Sherlock, however, was all seriousness.

"Oh, no," John said. "I am not going to sit out here all night! It'll probably rain any minute."

Sherlock considered this. Grey eyes flicked up to glance at the tattered clouds hurrying across the sky, obscuring the full moon. Had his brain been willing to stoop to such a level, Sherlock might have realized how closely their situation resembled a bad horror movie. But, his brain would not register such a thing. So, he merely shrugged.

"Well," Sherlock's voice was as calm as ever. "have fun walking back to the main road…alone."

John was silent. He knew exactly what Sherlock was doing. But, was he willing to make the trek alone, in the dark, through the thick copse that bordered the ruins? Of course! He was a soldier! He wasn't afraid of some supposedly haunted castle! But, was he willing to leave Sherlock out here, alone and weaponless? The wind moaned eerily around him again. Sherlock seemed utterly unaffected, seemed to be enjoying it actually. At least, as close as he could come to honestly enjoying something. Sherlock would be fine. There was nothing out here. But...always, there seemed to be a but. What if whoever had abducted the mayor of the nearby town did show up here? With a gun, or other weapon?

The doctor let out an extremely loud sigh, sat down, and leaned against a tree, saying nothing and looking as angry as he possibly could.

Sherlock settled next to him, smiling slightly.