For John Watson

[howdull]

[Sherlock is still finding pieces of the melted laptop in the carpet.

It had actually been quite an ingenious booby trap to be devised by a fourteen year old boy with only household chemicals to work with but, as Sherlock surmised, rather overkill to keep his mother from finding his extensive porn collection. Not one of their more illustrious cases, but it had been quite entertaining to watch both the boy and mother's faces as he revealed that he did know the how and why. He lost interest after the mother started shouting and John started shouting and the whole thing turned tedious.

He rather thinks John won't actually be doing a full write-up of this one on his blog.

It's been two days since their last case and he's beginning to get more than a little antsy. Lestrade has sent him nothing, just a boring hit and run that he refused to even leave the flat for, and nobody interesting has appeared through the blog. Said blog he is currently scrolling through on John's laptop, having borrowed it again.

He did ask, it's not his fault John hadn't been in the room at the time.]

Bored, John.

[He doesn't even know if his flatmate is even in, but that's hardly a necessity for him to actually speak to John. Frustrated, he throws the laptop across the room to hit the wall, where it summarily breaks. Which is where he can be found whenever John appears, sulking amidst pieces of laptop, both from the melted one of their last case and John's poor broken one.]

Comments

[jumpthegun]

[That's a little bit of a wrench, but it's only a second or two to figure out the most viable to start. They'll move on to a different one if this isn't it. Sales, probably.]

Printing.

[howdull]

[He sighs and picks up a phone that's shaped like a literal bone and mumbles into it for a few seconds.]

Alright, Adam says go right up. The lift's through those doors, you want the fourth floor, second door on your left.

[jumpthegun]

Thank you.

[And away they go. John takes a breath when they step into the lift and punch the fourth floor. He flashes a small smile at Molly.]

Figure we can get this manager to pull in sales if we need it. He'll know what he's been printing, though. You're doing great so far, Molly.

[howdull]

I haven't said anything yet.

[She just points that out quietly, though it's with a smile in return. The lift is pretty fast and the doors are soon opening, this floor is more utilitarian in style with plain white walls and office space.

Adam is a middle aged man in jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt, he smiles nervously at them both when they come in.]

T-Troy said you were p-police? To see me? Can I just say that I never knew that stuff was in my suitcase, I swear, just-- god, it was a mistake. You can let me off this once, can't you?

[jumpthegun]

[John keeps his expression neutral, but really? This is almost too easy. Thank god. He's rubbish at lying. This is usually where Sherlock would take the reins. The doctor raises a hand.]

Settle down, sir. Sergeant Hooper and I are here on another matter, unless you'd like to have a discussion about that one. [He raises his brow and goes to sit down across from Adam.] We've had reports that someone's been impersonating one of our officers, Sergeant Sally Donovan. Your print shop came up as the supplier for the card stock used.

[John looks to Molly for a moment.]

Sergeant Hooper will be taking a few notes, if you don't mind. We do have a description on the suspect, but we'd like to know if you did print any cards under that name. Our records don't indicate a payment by the Yard to your company, and Sergeant Donovan, herself, has denied making the purchase.

[howdull]

[Oh, good GOD. He takes a handkerchief out of his pocket and swipes it shakily over his sweating brow, before he shakes his head fervently.]

N-No, I don't want to talk about-- I mean-- let me pull up the records.

[He hurries to his computer as Molly pulls a notepad out of her bag and hurriedly tries to hide the pink kitten on the front by folding it double. Thankfully, Adam doesn't notice.]

I don't have any record of an order from the Yard, you're right, and-- Uh-- There was a small order of cards printed, but I don't know who purchased them. The name was given as J. Doe, sorry, but there's an address on file. 25 Palmerston Road, Walthamstow.

[Molly looks up sharply and scribbles on a corner of her paper - WALTHAMSTOW CENTRAL, LAST STATION ON VICTORIA LINE EASTBOUND.]

[jumpthegun]

[John glances at her and nods minutely.]

Do your records indicate if it was a call-in order or a walk-in? We'd like to speak with the employee who took that order if it was made in-person.

[howdull]

It must have been a walk-in because the method of payment is listed as cash, so you want Helen, she deals with all walk-in orders and then sends them up via email to be printed while the customer waits.

[He smiles ingratiatingly, clearly trying to be as helpful as possible to keep their attention off his infractions.]

I'll go and fetch her, shall I?

[Molly nods authoritatively, and Adam practically scurries out of the room. She leans into John and murmurs while they're alone.]

Why do you want to speak to her? We have an address, it's on the Victoria line, shouldn't we be going to get Sherlock?

[jumpthegun]

Because I want to check the description Helen provides. I dunno how quickly the Alphabet Woman changes her looks. She can't hide the missing finger, but her hair might be important. If it's a different description, we can give it to Lestrade and have him track her movements from CCTV footage for the day she made the purchase. We have an idea where she's keeping Sherlock, but she might not be staying there for very long when we find him. It'll be good to know the other places she's been for when we go looking for her.

[He shrugs and then grimaces, regretting that.]

Plus, it'll look suspicious if we don't ask a little more. We're the police, right?

[howdull]

Right.

[She falls silent, chewing her lip, until Adam reappears with a young dark skinned girl with a nose piercing and a friendly smile.]

Hi, Helen, Adam says you're from the police? Can I help?

[jumpthegun]

[John offers her a polite, but brief smile in return as he rises to address her.]

Yes. You took a cash order from a woman for cards printed under the name of Sally Donovan. If you could give us the day that happened and a description of the woman, we'd appreciate that. She would have been missing her index finger on her right hand, if that sounds familiar.

[howdull]

[She looks utterly blank until John mentions the missing finger, and then it's like a light bulb goes off in her head.]

Oh yes, I remember her, she was really nice. It was about two weeks ago now that she came in, she was kind of plump, uh, pale skin? Blonde hair, but I don't think it was real. Really nice pink nail polish. She said the cards were for her friend who'd just passed out of the police academy and made PC, like a well done present. It's not-- oh no, nothing's happened to her friend, has it?

[jumpthegun]

[Blonde. Okay.]

No, no. Nothing like that. Thank you, very much, Helen. We'll see ourselves out. Thank Adam for us, as well, and keep up the good work here.

[And now to head out and hopefully not be stopped. They're actually going to get away with this. John doesn't know if he should feel this excited when they're in the middle of a potentially deadly situation for Sherlock. He can hear the other man's voice echoing in his head, though.

'The game is on.']

[howdull]

[Molly looks almost as excited as John might be feeling when they make it outside, cheeks flushed and grin stretching wide across her face.]

I can't believe that worked! Oh my gosh, we have to do that again someday!

[She gives him a spontaneous hug, and then hurriedly pulls back looking mortified.]

Oh, um... sorry.

[jumpthegun]

[John goes stiff and gasps. He tries to offer Molly a smile, though, and a light pat on the shoulder as he resists the urge to just curl over and breathes for a few seconds.]

Y-yeah. Good job in there. Not a bad team.

[He's a little slow as they start back toward Molly's car, but picks up his pace as the immediate pain subsides.]

We can head to that location, then, see what there is to see. D'you have any weapons in your car? Mace or a pocket knife?

[John really wants his gun, but they'll make do.]

You can drop me off, and guard the car while I check the building. Hopefully, our Alphabet Woman won't be home, I can grab Sherlock, and then we'll head out.

[howdull]

[She doesn't like the idea of being left outside. Perhaps some tiny portion of her brain, one she will not be acknowledging any time soon, kind of hopes that if she comes riding in like the white knight then Sherlock will notice her.]

No. No weapons. But if we make a stop back at the morgue then I have all my tools.

[A scalpel might not be as good as a gun, but it has to be better than nothing.]

John... what if he's really hurt? We don't know anything about her, if she's capable of killing or...

[He should really tell her about Harry.]

[jumpthegun]

[He's quiet for a moment, but this is the point that Molly needs to understand there is very real danger, and not just from bombs.]

She murdered my big sister two days ago, Molly. And shot a kid through the stomach and just stood and watched while I was trying to stop him bleeding out. I think she's honestly lost some piece of her sanity. You need to understand that when I say, going into that building with me could mean you may not be coming out again.

I don't want anyone else to be hurt because of me.

[howdull]

[Molly stops dead in the street, face paling and hand going to her mouth in shock. There are tears brimming even if she doesn't know him that well, even if she never met his sister.]

Oh, God. I'm-- I'm so sorry.

[What else can she say? That's truly horrible.]

[jumpthegun]

[And that's part of what he was afraid might happen. John takes her arm gently.]

It's okay, Molly. [It's really not.] Let's just keep moving, okay?

[It's easier not to think about it when he's moving.]

We need to focus on getting Sherlock back and keeping you safe, then we can worry about everything else.

[howdull]

It's not okay.

[Instead of letting herself get tugged along, she reaches out and takes him so carefully by the shoulders.]

John, your sister... You shouldn't have to be doing this, you-- have you even let yourself cry?

[jumpthegun]

[His jaw tightens.]

There's no time for that right now, Molly, and it's really not gonna help. There's a woman out there targeting me and the people I care about. I'll deal with it once she's brought in.

[howdull]

[Her heart twists for him and a tear rolls down her cheek as if to mock his dry ones, but she does take her hands away from his shoulders.]

Will you?

[It's asked quietly.]

Or will you just let Sherlock pull you along on the next case and the next one, until it's been long enough that you can pretend you've dealt with it?

[jumpthegun]

[That is uncomfortably perceptive of her, and John lets go, pulling away from Molly. People have slowed down and are starting to stare. He knows they're probably thinking he's just broke up with her. Why else would a woman be crying in front of him in the middle of the pavement? People are watching, Mycroft might be watching, the Alphabet Woman might be watching.

Every moment they spend here is another that Molly's car might be destroyed or booby-trapped, or Sherlock might be killed. He tries to keep his own voice soft and gentle. This is a bridge he can't afford to burn right now.]

Molly, come on. Come on, we can't do this here. Sherlock's waiting. Please.

[howdull]

[She scrubs the heels of her hands into her eyes and nods, but she's not going to forget this. She didn't really know John before today, but now she sees a man going above and beyond to save a friend that most people think is just an insufferable twat. She'll make sure to check in on him when this is all done.

It's the least she can do.]

Y-Yeah, sorry.

[Stupid, Molly. Always babbling on where people don't want it. She ducks her head and starts hurrying along, aware now of the people staring.

It's not too far to the car, which is safe and where they left it, and they're soon on their way out towards Walthamstow. The drive will take a while, and every so often Molly glances over at him as if she wants to pick up the conversation again. Eventually, she chooses a way to do it.]

What was her name, your sister?

[jumpthegun]

[John is very aware of her glances, but just keeps his eyes forward. At the question, there's little to do but sigh and respond.]

Harry. Her name was Harry. She's commented on my blog a few times. I appreciate what you're doing right now, Molly, you don't need to do this, too.