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]

I think we both know I'm not gonna drop dead in the next twelve hours, whether I'm up and about or not. You can just phone me with the results and I'll come back in if it's needed. If there's a form I need to sign that says I'm leaving against medical advice, please just bring it to me.

[gallowshumour]

[Her earlier good humour is all but gone now, and she looks a mix of irritated and concerned.]

I really can't advise that, I'm sure whoever your appointment is with will understand, these are exceptional circumstances.

[jumpthegun]

I know you can't advise it, which is why I'm requesting a form. You people seem very concerned with keeping me here for something that isn't life-threatening. [Okay. Dial it back. John squares his jaw.] I didn't even want to stay. And the nurse who wheeled me up here explicitly said I wasn't being kept. I'd prefer not to have a debate. I'm a doctor. I know the risks. Thank you.

[gallowshumour]

Alright, fine, if you're absolutely sure.

[She doesn't look at all pleased about it, but she does retreat from the room to go and fetch a form with bad grace. Molly pokes her head through the curtains for the next bed over, frown of concern at her brow.]

Did Sherlock say he needed us that urgently? I mean, um-- obviously not us, you. Did he say he needed you that urgently?

[Sherlock never needs her urgently at all.]

[jumpthegun]

He said we need to hurry up. [A pause before he offers her a tight smile, pulling himself out of the combative mindset from the nurse.] The both of us. Are you feeling well enough to be discharged?

[gallowshumour]

Yeah!

[No, not really. She still feels fuzzy, and she's sure that her arm will hurt a lot without strong painkillers, but she's not being left behind.]

I guess I shouldn't just disappear, huh? I'll go and discharge myself, don't go without me, okay?

[jumpthegun]

I won't. With the way things are running around here, you might get out before I do, anyway. I think one of the staff must fancy me. [What with wanting to trap him here! But look at that good humor about it. He can joke.

As long as he gets out.

Once Molly's headed off, John looks at his clothes and sighs softly. Getting into them is going to hurt. Getting out of them had hurt. Everything hurts. Maybe he can get the nurse to give him more ibuprofen on the way out.]

[gallowshumour]

[Molly doesn't suffer much for trying to get herself discharged, except for it being so late, and she's already down in the lobby by the time John gets down there to meet her. He will not be given any ibuprofen for the road, but the nurse will try to persuade him to stay again for his troubles.

Molly is still dressed in pyjamas and bunny slippers in the lobby, chewing her fingernails a bit nervously, but with a determined set to her jaw. She's scared, but she's not backing down from wanting to help out.]

...there you are, I was about to send out a search party.

[jumpthegun]

[Seeing her again is a relief, as is actually leaving the damn hospital with permission for once. He considers texting Lestrade about it, but it's late... early. He'll text Lestrade at a more reasonable hour. John stayed here for a while, even past what Sherlock did. That has to count for the spirit of their agreement, if nothing else.]

Oh, they took your clothes for forensics. [John hadn't even thought about that.] Uh... d'you have money for a cab?

[Otherwise... well, otherwise John is going to maybe going to have to call someone else. Mike? No, well, Mike's not that close. Sarah never wants to talk to him again, he can't ask Clara for more help. Mrs. Hudson? Mrs. Turner might own a car.]

[gallowshumour]

Oh. Um, no, not exactly.

[She pats ineffectually at the sides of the pyjama bottoms as if she'll somehow magically be able to produce money if she does that.]

Do you think Sherlock would pay when we got to Baker Street? I could always repay him when I get my purse back.

[jumpthegun]

Right. We'll do that, yeah. And you don't... there's no need to repay him. We should be repaying you.

[That makes far more sense than what he was considering. The final alternative had been... walking.]

He's not at Baker Street, though. At least he shouldn't be. Just a mo. Let me find out where we're actually going.

[John pulls out his mobile as they move slowly toward the exit of the hospital, getting side-eyed by the night staff.]

FROM: JOHN
TO: SHERLOCK
Where are you? With Molly. We need you to pay for cab when arrived.

[gallowshumour]

FROM: SHERLOCK
TO: JOHN

It would be easier to add you as an additional cardholder to my account. Take care of that when the banks open.
SH

FROM: SHERLOCK
TO: JOHN

Never mind, I can do it online.
SH

FROM: SHERLOCK
TO: JOHN

I'm in Camden. East end of the market.
SH

[Molly is patient as John deals with his mobile phone, scuttling off to one side to the payphones to call one of the taxi numbers she knows. Thank god for often antisocial hours and the need for taxi numbers to be memorised.]

[jumpthegun]

[John makes a face when Sherlock says he's adding him to his account and types back as quickly as he can.]

FROM: JOHN
TO: SHERLOCK

Be there in a bit. I don't need to be on your account. Just need ID so I can access MINE. Maybe get police to provide positive ID?

[He doesn't wait for a reply as he heads over to collect Molly, then walk out to the pavement to wait for their cab.]

He's in Camden. Doing god only knows what at this hour. Mycroft's got hold of Jim, so it can't be staking him out. Maybe- [Oh, god. He pulls out his mobile again.] Caroline?

FROM: JOHN
TO: SHERLOCK

What are you doing at market? Matthews?

[howdull]

[Molly looks concerned when John jumps to the conclusion of Caroline, chewing her fingernails anxiously as she waits for a response.

The cab actually comes before a reply does, and when it does come, it's only one word.]

FROM: SHERLOCK
TO: JOHN

Babysitting :)

[jumpthegun]

[That's an indescribably ominous message. John gives the cabbie the area.]

FROM: JOHN
TO: SHERLOCK

Brilliant. We really are going to need you to be more specific on your location, at least. I'll text you when we're close. I don't want some cabbie murdering us for trying to do a runner on the fare.

[He sighs heavily and looks over at Molly. Poor Molly in her pyjamas and nothing else. Maybe... they should have waited for morning.]

D'you want to stop off at your place first? Let you grab some clothes?

[Sherlock can maybe wait a few more minutes.]

[gallowshumour]

[The reply eventually comes that he's at 17 Kentish Town Road, which is an apartment rather than any of the public venues that are open all night in that area.

Molly is shivering a little, her pyjamas are thin for this time of night, but she shakes her head resolutely.]

No, if he needs us to come quick -- that's what you said in the hospital -- then we should get there as fast as we can.

[She's worried! Surely John wasn't over-inflating the situation just to get out of the hospital, was he?]

[jumpthegun]

[He wasn't... consciously doing that. John just nods and shifts so that he can work his jacket off while giving the cabbie a more definitive address. He'll offer Molly the jacket.]

Here. You bought it, anyway. Only seems fair.

[John can live with being cold.]

[gallowshumour]

[She gives him a small smile, touched, as she shrugs the jacket on over her shoulders.]

Do you know anything about what he needs us for? Is he, um, he's not hurt, is he?

[jumpthegun]

He didn't say. 'Babysitting,' whatever that means for him. I think he might have a lead on Caroline.

[Because he really can't imagine what else the man is looking after for this case.]

Maybe he found where Jim's stashed her? Or where she's scarpered now Jim's been captured.

[gallowshumour]

Uh, I guess maybe that's what he means? He wouldn't actually be babysitting, would he?

[She didn't think Sherlock knew any children, not even taking into account how late at night it was.]

[jumpthegun]

I don't think anyone would trust Sherlock with their kid. D'you?

[He likes Sherlock... most of the time. But John's well aware the mans ability to deal with adults is subpar, let alone children.]

[gallowshumour]

[That's an excellent point, not even Molly would trust Sherlock with children and she's his biggest supporter. She doesn't get a chance to reply, though, because the taxi is pulling up outside of the address given and the cabbie is turning around.]

That'll be sixteen fifty.

[Molly glances sideways at John.]

Didn't Sherlock say he'd be out here to pay?

[jumpthegun]

Yeah. Um... yeah. Let me just... Take a look for him out of the cab, Molly. I'm gonna call him.

[He dials Sherlock's number.]

[howdull]

[The cab driver doesn't look very happy about one of them getting out without the fare being paid, but since he still has one of them in the car he doesn't make any vocal complaint.

John will be able to hear the phone ringing, both from his end and from just around the corner as Sherlock jogs into view with a small boy resting on his hip. The boy is half asleep with his head lolling on Sherlock's shoulder.]

Alright, I'm here. Wallet's in my back pocket, you can get it.

[jumpthegun]

[As Molly looks about like she might faint is she starts reaching into Sherlock's pockets, John hauls himself out of the cab and goes for it. He grabs Sherlock's card and hands it in to the cabbie to ring them out on the fare.]

Sherlock, who does that kid belong to?