Sherlock Holmes (
howdull) wrote in
fossilised2016-11-06 04:25 pm
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
For John Watson
[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.]
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.]
no subject
Bloody hell, give her a minute. She is entertaining a guest, y'know?
no subject
[Sherlock moves as if about to start ramming the door with his shoulder, when it opens to reveal Mrs. Hudson looking flustered.]
Honestly, you two, I've got a bad hip, you know, can't you be more patient?
no subject
no subject
It is.
He stands up stiffly when John enters the room, posture an automatic military stiffness despite having been discharged some time ago now.]
John. Come in, I don't want to stay long.
no subject
I'm taking it this isn't a social visit. Did Bill contact you about what's been going on?
no subject
[He's not much of a one for light conversation these days, and he really doesn't feel comfortable out of his house. But he felt honour-bound to come when he couldn't contact John any other way.]
I'm here because of this.
[He holds out a neatly folded letter in an envelope bearing the crest of the army. It's a summons to attend a military police interview regarding the "possibly unlawful actions of Captain Watson while serving in Afghanistan".]
no subject
What?
[His voice is smaller and he looks from James over to the entryway, searching for Sherlock.]
no subject
He holds his hand out for the letter.]
Show me.
[Sholto looks over at Sherlock levelly, but he won't stop John handing it over.]
I don't know what mess you've landed yourself in, but you deserved a head's up. Couldn't get you on the phone, so I came down.
no subject
There's a woman. Carloine Matthews. She was married to Danny Matthews. He... committed suicide. She blames me for not getting to him sooner in the field. There were complications after I got him out of the field hospital. She murdered Harry a couple of days ago. My sister Harry. She's been stalking me. She blew up my flat. She kidnapped and tried to kill my flatmate.
[A glance toward Sherlock.]
Sorry, Major. This is Sherlock Holmes, consulting detective. Sherlock, Major James Sholto.
no subject
Condolences on your sister.
[It needs to be said. He's about to deal with the formality of introduction when Sherlock brushes right past it, ignoring pleasantries altogether.]
Yes, very sad, but this is what we need to be focused on. Of course you'll go, but I don't see anything to worry about yet, your reports of John are sure to be exemplary.
no subject
I know you'll be honest, James. I just... I'm sorry you're getting caught up in this now, as well. [And then a thought strikes him and John is very suddenly on high alert once more. Explosives. Could there be more explosives?]
Sherlock, why would Caroline go to the trouble of having Major Sholto summoned when they'd get nothing out of his testimony? [There's no reason. Not unless there's some bizarre way they're planning to twist the story.] Major, have you interacted with or seen anyone since you got here apart from Mrs. Hudson?
no subject
[Sholto doesn't look particularly worried about someone potentially killing him. He's good in the face of pressure, and he doesn't break down in hard situations.]
No.
[Simple, but true. He doesn't interact with anyone if he can help it.]
I won't stay, John. I've come to tell you what you need to know, give me your phone number or new address and I'll contact you with how the summons goes.
no subject
My phone might be tapped at any time and that address has been compromised by the enemy, sir. [The doctor's voice is level as he looks up at the other man in grave concern.] It's the best we have at the moment, though. Will you consent to a police escort while you're in the city, at least? I have a friend at the Met I can inform of the situation. I've notified Bill to remain away from London and the UK for the time being, if he can. Anyone with any ties to me is in mortal danger.
[It might be a little dramatic to say it like that, but John's fairly certain it's true.]
no subject
No, thank you.
[He's already heading towards the door, piece of paper folded neatly and put into his pocket with his own remaining good hand.]
The summons is nearer my home, military base, I won't be staying in London.
[He wouldn't have come at all, but his sense of honour demanded that he warn John of what could be coming.]
no subject
[He wants to call in Lestrade, anyway. But there's not much to do here. When James has decided on something, he's like a dog with a piece of steak. Nothing is pulling him off of it. Sholto returns the salute and heads downstairs. John's still at a bit of a loss for what to think. He's also very aware that those salutes have cost him. His chest and shoulders are burning, and that vulnerability shines through more as he comes down from his rigid attention for his commander.]
Caroline said today is when the main event would be starting. You think this is it? Just ruining my service record? It's not like it'd matter. You're my employer. [And maybe they could get him arrested, but he can't think of anything they could actually pin on him for that.]
no subject
Not that he's jealous. That would be ridiculous, jealousy is an emotion of sentiment, and that's not him.]
Hm?
[Oh, yes, of course, the letter.]
I thought you worked at that GP clinic? Something boring about not being paid enough to cover the rent just running around London solving crimes, I stopped listening after a while.
no subject
The point does make sense, though. He does work locum, but Sarah's his employer there, and whatever rift he's put between them, he's fairly sure she won't just accept that he was some horrible criminal all along. She's seen him. She knows him.]
Sarah wouldn't believe it. And they're still... they'd have to go after my medical license for it to make a real difference there. You think that's next?
no subject
[John isn't a perfect doctor, but he's a damn good one, and he clearly was a damn good soldier too. There's nothing there to go after.]
If they're questioning people you served with, the next logical step would be to question you. That will at least give us some idea of what they're playing with.
no subject
no subject
[But she does have some letters in her hand as she bustles back upstairs with two cups of tea for them both.]
You'd have got them before if you thought to call, you know?
no subject
Yes, sorry. I, uh... can you give me the number for the phone here? I'll be sure to keep you updated from now on.
[Maybe. When there's neutral or good news.
He'll sit down in the one of the chairs, nearby after taking the tea and letters. However, he passes by the chair Sholto had been sitting in, even though it's one of the closest. That's been mentally assigned as 'not my chair' without John even really noticing it.]
Have you been all right here?
[His voice is distracted as he goes through the mail checking for anything from the military and ignoring pretty much everything else... including the bills and whatever sympathy cards there might be.]
no subject
He's too busy sulking to pay much attention to Mrs. Hudson's complaints, though he does take the tea and have a sip or two.]
Oh yes, Mrs. Turner just decorated the back bedroom, it's lovely. You'll have to let me show you, let me just get you that number first.
[There are four letters. One for Sherlock, three for John. Of the three for John, one is a summons to the local army base, appointment time for later this same day, and the other two are bills.]
no subject
Summons. We'll be heading to the same base as the Major. [He frowns at it.] Two o'clock. [It's barely past 8 AM.] We'll need to hire a car or... borrow Molly's. That's a hike for a cab. Have you still got access to your bank account, or d'you think Mycroft might shut it off?
[He's still antsy about having Sherlock pay for everything, but it's unavoidable right at the moment. John's not going to let himself fall into another panic attack. He tells himself he'll pay Sherlock back. He'll pay Clara back. He'll pay Molly back. Everyone will be paid back just as soon as Caroline Matthews and her accomplice are behind bars.]
no subject
Sherlock scans the letter, it looks official enough. The printer was running low on black in, small white lines through the letters, but nothing important.]
Hire a car, I doubt Mycroft will have gone quite that far.
[Of course, he's underestimated his brother before.]
He wouldn't want to risk Mummy finding out.
no subject
Can I have a look on Mrs. Turner's computer for a place to hire a car from?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
knew and on... wow, I can type
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...
...