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

[howdull]

Babe?

[Sherlock's nose wrinkles just a little in disgust at the endearment, though his words are spoken quietly enough to only be audible to John and out of the corner of his mouth while he keeps his arm around his 'boyfriend'.]

Even if we were an item, I hardly think that I would be the 'babe' sort.

Of course, lovey. You and your nice boyfriend go and sit down and I'll bring the clothes over, don't worry about anyone bothering you. [The nurse, completely on their side now, gives Mycroft a forbidding look as if daring him to say anything else.] You should be ashamed of yourself, sir, coming here and berating your brother for the crime of loving someone.

[jumpthegun]

[They sit down and John places a hand on Sherlock's thigh, leaning in to murmur back sarcastically.]

D'you want sweetie or darling, then? Maybe dear heart?

[The nurse heads off, and John levels a look at Mycroft as he stalks closer. The doctor is trying not to look too smug that his ploy has gone off without a hitch. Mycroft's overly dramatic turn of phrase only continues to add to the effect.]

Sherlock, this is childish. You are in danger wherever you go with that man. He is an unsuitable companion. Get back to your room at once.

[howdull]

[Sherlock is up and out of his chair remarkably quickly for someone who almost died the previous night, slamming Mycroft into a nearby wall and dragging his arm behind his back into a painful hold. He speaks fast, knowing they won't go unobserved for long, but his words are deadly serious despite their speed.]

I have tolerated your interference in my life up until now, brother mine, but you are overstepping your bounds. Who I choose to associate with has nothing to do with you, and should you or any of your hired idiots lay a hand on John, I can assure you that you will never lay eyes on me again. No amount of cameras will change that. Now walk away, Mycroft, and we will pretend this embarrassment never happened.

[He pushes back from the wall and returns to sitting next to John as if nothing happened at all. Even going so far as to continue the conversation they had been having.]

None of those are even remotely suitable. If we were an item, then I'd expect you to call me Sherlock, anything else is just unnecessary and gauche.

[jumpthegun]

[Admittedly, if they were an item, that show of loyalty and the threat to Mycroft would be just a little sexy. As it is, John just schools his expression to mild irritation instead of smirking as he watches the brothers. No one else gets up to assist Mycroft or pull Sherlock off, everyone seeming to be terribly interested in their phones or looking the other way.

When Sherlock finally lets go, the older man steps away, clutching his twisted arm close to his chest. He's scowling as he meets Sherlock's eye, but it's John he addresses.]

You will regret this, Dr. Watson.

[With that, he turns away and heads for he lifts, pulling out his mobile and dialing a number. He's out of view before John can hear what's being said. A few of the patients applaud lightly and John lets the smirk that's been tugging at his lips finally grow into a proper grin.]

You'll have to deal with babe 'til we're out of here. [He wrinkles his nose at Sherlock's disgust.] Oh! Molly. [Now that Mycroft's been banished, John goes for his mobile again.]

TO: MOLLY
Strike the clothes. We managed to get hold of them. Still could use a ride. Might be able to catch a cab, too. I'll keep you updated. Not sure if Sherlock has cash or one of his cards.

[Or if Mycroft's frozen his accounts to be petty.]

[howdull]

[Sherlock will have to be on alert, he knows that Mycroft is a very dangerous a clever man, and if he has decided to make John sorry for this acquaintanceship, then he will definitely do so.

Still, that's a problem for a later time. They have other things to think of, such as mysterious army majors and Mrs. Hudson.]

Who is this man with Mrs. Hudson? You've never mentioned him before.

[Which seems rude.

A text pings back from Molly.]

TO: JOHN
Ten mins approx. Will park in emergency bay, so be ready.
Molly xx

[jumpthegun]

Major James Sholto, he's my commander from Afghanistan. One of them, I mean. [His voice is distracted as he checks his texts.] We need to head down to the emergency bay as soon as we have your clothes. Molly's picking us up.

Mrs. Hudson said he came to talk to me about my service. He doesn't do social visits. If he's out of his house... somethings wrong. Somethings very wrong. Major Sholto's a recluse. Has been, ever since he was discharged. I was worried it might not be him, but Mrs. Hudson mentioned... he has some very distinctive scarring. [John gestures to his side.]

[howdull]

You've still never mentioned him before.

[It feels like a deliberate omission. He doesn't think that he's deleted that information, he's sure that John just hasn't mentioned it. Odd.]

Tell me about him now.

[Assuming this is the real Major Sholto, even scarring can be replicated fairly easily with good make up.]

[jumpthegun]

[It was something of a deliberate omission.]

I mentioned him when I was trying to figure out who to call to figure out who the Alphabet Woman might be.

[John glances away, knowing full well that Sherlock's either going to press or deduce something embarrassing out of that if he doesn't get on with it.]

I dunno. He's stolid. Loyal, brave, always careful. He's meticulous. If he told you to line up for an inspection, you had to make sure everything was regulation perfect or you'd be doing push-ups 'til your arms fell off. That's how he was on-duty, anyway. And he almost never went off. He's alert, the kind of bloke who's gauging what you're gonna do well before you're thinking about doing it. He was a brilliant tactician. He taught me how to play chess in the officer's mess. Most of the others were too nervous to play against him.

[A fond smile comes to John's lips.]

I always looked forward to going on patrols with him when I could. Especially overnights. He doesn't say much, but he's... What he says means something. He's thoughtful. Knows massive amounts about things you wouldn't even think about. He's been through a lot in his life. Lost his wife to cancer something like ten years ago.

He's one of the most steadfast men I've ever met. Never flinches in the face of danger. Never backs down from a challenge. He's always calm.

[There's a hint of wonder creeping into the doctor's voice and expression.]

[howdull]

[If Sherlock had been anyone else, he might have said that the irritating niggle growing the longer John spoke was jealousy. But of course that's ludicrous, why should it matter to him how many people have managed to impress John with their intellect and garner that sort of admiring praise? It shouldn't. It won't.

He focuses on taking the details in anyway, they could be useful, and deciding that he already doesn't particularly like Major Sholto from what he's heard. Nothing to do with John, naturally, just his own detective's intuition.]

Then perhaps you should have called for his advice on Ms. Matthews.

[Tiny petty comment aside, the nurse appears with his clothes to save him having to say anything else. He just gets up and takes them from her without a word, disappearing into a nearby bathroom to change.]

You alright now, dear? [She pats John on the shoulder in a bracing way.] It's always a shame when the family don't understand.

[jumpthegun]

[John doesn't get a chance to snipe back before the nurse appears and he has to put on the dutiful boyfriend act again. His brief smile is wasted when the nurse pats his shoulder, and the doctor's jaw tightens against the pain for a moment. He plays it off as being upset.]

Yeah. I'm... we'll be fine. His brother's always been like that. His mum and dad are lovely, though, and my sister's mad about him. They go shopping together whenever she's in town. [Maybe he can't get back at Sherlock directly for that comment about James, but he can paint him as the 'girl' in their relationship to be petty.]

Thanks for your help, though, Claire. Really, you're a lifesaver.

[howdull]

Oh, well that's good, that it's not everyone. There's bad apples in every family, don't you listen to his brother.

[Sherlock appears again at that moment, back in his usual clothes with the collar of his Belstaff turned up high. He sweeps past John and the nurse.]

Little time for chit-chat, John, come on.

[jumpthegun]

[John raises a hand to Claire and flashes a smile at Claire before hurrying after the other man.]

Any thoughts on what this might be? I'm still trying to figure out what D is. Major Sholto was discharged from the Army, so maybe that? If she's going after him, though... I dunno what she could've done to reach him. I was thinking maybe Bill told him about what happened. He wouldn't've been able to call me, I guess.

[It's just the lift and down a few floors to get to where they need to be. John checks his phone again as they step out to the curb. Molly should be here in less than two minutes.]

[howdull]

[It feels good to be back in his own clothes, back in the saddle as far as the game is concerned. He still feels a little weak on his feet, but it's something he can push down and ignore quite easily. A minor complaint of the transport. He will deal with any longer term problems when this is solved.]

Works as regard the naming scheme, something I believe she is wedded to with her delusions and grief, but something isn't right there. His discharge has already occurred, yours also, honourable in both regards. Invalids. No, speculation is only muddying the waters, we need to meet your Major.

[jumpthegun]

Please be nice to him. Babe.

[Molly's little car rolls up a moment later and they're faced with the same problem as last time. It's really only made to seat two people. John looks to Sherlock to see what he wants to do. Just taking Molly's car again is going to start wearing on John's conscience. The woman has a life for god's sake.]

[howdull]

[Babe. Urgh. He'll have to nip that in the bud before John starts using it whenever he wants to annoy Sherlock, mostly because it's effective and that makes it unacceptable.]

Don't call me that again, I might have to reconsider my stance on Mycroft if you do.

[Molly winds the window down, giving them both a hurried smile.]

Sorry, but I can't give you the car this time. One of you'll have to get a cab.

[Sherlock's already turning away, he much prefers the privacy of a cab where he doesn't have to talk to anyone anyway.]

[jumpthegun]

[John just rolls his eyes at the threat, but his focus sharpens to something cutting when Molly suggests splitting up. He moves to grab for Sherlock's arm.]

No! [That was... louder than he meant it to be.]

Sorry. No. I'm sorry, Molly. I should've thought it through. We'll just both take a cab. Are you okay? Was Jim acting weird?

[howdull]

[She bites her lip in mild indecision. She doesn't want them taking a cab, and she does need to talk to them about Jim. All of a sudden she's getting out.]

John, get in the driver's seat. Sherlock, get in, I'll sit-- I'll sit on your knee, hopefully we won't get stopped.

[Sherlock looks appalled.]

Why don't you sit on John's knee? It would make far more sense for the two smaller individuals to share a space, and for me to drive.

Because John's hurt, I'm not squashing him into the seat. Now get in the car, Sherlock!

[jumpthegun]

[John does like a woman who can take charge, and he casts a grateful look at Molly as he moves to the driver's side and slides in carefully. Once Sherlock and Molly... arrange themselves and shut the door, John pulls away and he's into traffic.]

So, how was Jim acting after you two left?

[gallowshumour]

[Molly can't help the slight stain of red to her cheeks as she settles on Sherlock's lap, his arm loosely around her waist just for somewhere to put it. It's intimate, and she's grateful to John for providing a distraction.]

Normal. Or-- just like always. But he kept smiling when he thought I wasn't looking, and I don't think it was a comforting smile. He said he had some leave coming up and he's going to visit his family next week for a while, so I think you need to catch him in whatever he's doing quickly before he gets away.

[jumpthegun]

[John glances over at her, but flicks his eyes to meet Sherlock's for a moment. Privately, darkly, John thinks they'll probably run out of letters by the time Jim leaves if they don't catch Caroline before then. He has to be instrumental in this. Or whomever her tech person is.]

We're looking to catch Ms. Matthews as soon as possible, Molly.

[A thought occurs to him as he turns his attention back to the road. It's a cruel strategy, but it might be an effective one.]

Wonder if we could draw her out with her kids. She does have them, but they were taken away from her. Maybe set up-

[John shuts his mouth and looks over quickly at Molly again. His voice is overly casual.]

Molly, have you ever... d'you know what a bug might look like? A listening device, I mean? If you found it on your clothes or in your car.

[gallowshumour]

[Sherlock hates being forced into such close proximity with Molly, the warmth of someone else's body against his is entirely unwelcome. But it can't be helped, and so he puts it out of his mind in order to focus on the case. John gets an approving look, both for the idea of children and the realisation that there might be a bug recording their every spoken word.]

Using the children is a poor idea, John. She will doubtlessly be having them watched, we would not get close.

[Though his words are derisive, perfect in tone and delivery, his expression still radiates approval. Molly looks slightly startled, and then pats herself down as best she can as though expecting to find something.]

I don't know. I work with normal bugs, maggots and fly larvae, not electronic ones.

[jumpthegun]

[John catches the look and just nods, focus back on the road ahead. They can maybe discuss this later, when Molly isn't with them.]

Right. You're right... And sorry, Molly. Maybe we can... I dunno. Run a big magnet from the lab over your car? Might not be kind of any of the other electronics, but it should probably disrupt anything else in here.

[Maybe? Hell if John knows where the tech's at these days. Magnets can ruin phones, though. It seems reasonable enough to assume they'd disrupt anything else.]

Is there anything else you can think of that happened with Jim? Anything at all?

[gallowshumour]

[Molly thinks for a moment, running through the entire little conversation they'd had before he'd left the hospital and she'd gone back to get her car and carry on with her day.]

I heard him answer the phone when he was leaving, I think his surname might be Moriarty.

[Sherlock practically jumps, electrified, despite being buckled into a small car seat with Molly on his lap. That name. That name that the cabbie had shouted, the one that's haunted the back of his thoughts for months now. He didn't know what it meant, and now-- that's Moriarty?!]

Are you certain, Molly?

[Not that he needs to ask, of course it's Moriarty. But who is he?]

Um, yes. Why? What's going on?

[jumpthegun]

[John isn't sure for a moment, himself, and then it clicks.]

That's... isn't that the name that cabbie told you? [For Molly's benefit he explains:] Our first case together was that serial suicides bloke, Jefferson Hope. He told Sherlock he had a fan... [His eyes widen.] Moriarty.

[They're getting close to Baker Street now.]

You think Jim's your fan.

[howdull]

Of course he is, that--

[He cuts himself off all of a sudden and then slaps the dashboard hard enough and suddenly enough to make Molly jump.]

Urgh, that means that Mycroft was right. Tedious.