Nightingale's tone seemed to be talking about something extremely mundane, like if I was going shopping this afternoon, should I accompany me, or if I found a restaurant, should I go with me.

In this tone, it seems a little strange to invite a person to go with him to the front line of a medium-sized demon tide blocking battle.

Of course, it would be even more unacceptable if she really invited Sherlock to accompany her to go shopping in the afternoon.

I don't know if the girl in front of her realized this in hindsight, or if she was already a little weak, her slightly pale face because of fatigue and low temperature, suddenly brought a touch of ruddy for some reason, but she completely ignored her own changes, or rather, she deliberately made herself look very calm and calm, reached out and picked up a compressed biscuit from the side, stuffed it into her mouth, and began to chew vigorously, the cheeks on her lips were slightly bulging, this is a way to eat that completely disregards the image, But it is very wonderful to make that tired face a little beautiful and moving.

Because of the ordinary use of her healing ability during this time, Nightingale often felt hungry, and the military specially found a lot of compressed biscuits with a strong sense of satiety to send over, and she always chewed a few bites after work.

But Watson always felt that when he went to chew biscuits at this time, there was a feeling of wanting to cover up, and his eyes became more and more sharp.

"Do you want me to come along?" Sherlock thought for a moment and asked, "The military doesn't send people to escort them?" ”

"Of course there is an escort team, but I think those soldiers have a little too much respect for me, obviously they are on the front line, but they have to spend a lot of energy and try their best to make my life more comfortable, can you imagine, when I came back from the temporary station the day before yesterday, this group of people actually made me a bed in the carriage of the train"

The girl in front of her smiled bitterly and measured it with her hand: "It's the kind of soft bed that is placed in the bedroom, one meter five x two meters."

On a train on a front-line responsible for military transport.

In their words, it's because they feel that I'm too tired these days and need to rest."

Sherlock seemed to feel a little uncomfortable with the picture, and at the same time he could feel Nightingale's inner distress, although he could understand the respect that the front-line soldiers had for the girl, but it was a little too much.

"Hey, anyway, they completely treated me like a fragile vase, in fact, I really want to tell them that although I am only a woman, I am also a very unusual woman, to give a cruel example, if the ammunition depot in this military base suddenly explodes, then my chances of survival are higher than anyone else's.

So, I want to find a few people who will take care of my schedule, timing, safety, etc.

It's better than letting the military worry about everything.

Mr. Watson has been in contact and communication with the military for me these days, and he will receive the battle reports on the front line for me, and most of the trips are also arranged by him.

So, I want you to join in and find one or two more people with you, and that's enough. ”

Speaking of which, it may be so that Sherlock has no reason to refuse, so Miss Nightingale smiled and said, "Aren't you a detective, don't worry, I will pay you a commission if you don't let you do this job." ”

Sherlock smiled wryly and wondered, don't you still know what your position in the hearts of the front-line soldiers is, and pay me a commission?

Even if you don't pay, I dare to say a 'no', and it is estimated that a company of soldiers will be blocked in the barracks tonight.

However, it is better to have a commission than nothing, so Sherlock gladly accepted the business.

Next, Nightingale did not keep the other party, her work was related to the lives of countless people, so naturally it was impossible to spend time on politeness, and after obtaining Sherlock's consent, she immediately threw herself into the endless cases of injuries again.

The door of the room was shut, the surroundings were quiet, the sunset outside the window climbed over the snow-capped mountains in the distance, brushed the walls of this building, the dusk color passed through the glass, occasionally there was a report or shout from the soldiers outside the window, or a trace of mischievous cold wind squeezed into the crack of the bed, brushed the girl's neck and shoulders, and made her can't help but tighten her clothes.

Nightingale's glasses were a little sour, so she closed her eyes and rubbed them, perhaps because of some kind of habitual consciousness remnants of a long time, at this moment of closing her eyes, she subconsciously thought of Sherlock's extremely ordinary face, the raunchy stubble, the eyes that were not motivated by anything, and the various experiences between them, and the rumors about him that the court officer had told him on the streets of London.

Lazy, confused, but can give people a sense of great security, but in some invisible places, he seems to be an extremely terrible anti-social element, in fact, in the days since leaving Baker Street, she has been thinking, if Sherlock really has done so many unforgivable things, then how can he be unharmed by the law, and even the military is now asking for him?

The girl in front of the window tilted her head and couldn't help but fall into deep thought.

And this thought, I can't hold it back, in the once extremely short time together, too many things have happened between the two of them, and in the time they have traveled for so many years, these embellishments seem so distinct.

Just like Sherlock once said, Nightingale was a woman in her early 20s, she had no mental illness, and her special constitution could not make her have hormone secretion problems, so, as a sound human being, certain information in the genes of the species is destined to cause her curiosity about some of the opposite sex, of course, today's girls, do not know what this curiosity means.

In the same way, she didn't know that she always showed some unnormal daze from time to time these days, and this scene was dominated by the John who admired her to the extreme. Watson saw it in his eyes, and he didn't know that as soon as Watson walked out of the room, he immediately turned his head sideways, as if looking at an extremely dangerous bastard, and stared at Sherlock without blinking.

"What are you doing?" Sherlock asked inexplicably.

Watson's two extremely thin eyes burst into a sharp gaze, and after a while, he said in a questioning tone: "These days, the person I entrusted you to find, do you have eyebrows?" ”

When Sherlock heard this, he immediately prevaricated: "Oh, I'm looking for it, I'm looking for it, but this kind of thing can't be rushed, don't always rush." ”

After another long silence, Watson suddenly asked a question that he couldn't beat:

"You say. In so many cases that you have experienced, has there ever been such a situation, and that is. The murderer doesn't know he's the murderer? ”

"Uh" Sherlock thought for a moment: "Yes, I can't remember." ”

Watson approached Sherlock and said word by word in an extremely serious tone, "Anyway, I'm staring at you." ”

After that, he tidied up his clothes, and told Sherlock to pack his things quickly these days, and not to let Miss Nightingale wait for you at that time, and then left without looking back.

Only a lonely figure was left slightly messy in the wind.

(End of chapter)