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]

Mm... [John's already dialing the police station.] I need to be patched through to Detective Inspector Lestrade. This is Dr. John Watson about the case he's working on. I have new information for him regarding the suspect.

[If that goes through, and John really hopes it will with those qualifiers, he'll cut off the yelling at the pass.]

Lestrade, it's John. Sorry. I know you need to yell at me, but we're working on a lead just now. Danny Matthews. He's a man I treated in Afghanistan for a stomach wound. Apparently committed suicide. We think it's his wife that's after me. She was in the Army, as well, but was invalided out before she could be sent overseas.

Can you look up Danny's obituary and anything about the wife?

[howdull]

[The sound of wind and traffic in the background said that John has been patched through to his mobile, and he does not sound happy.]

Jesus, John, you can't keep doing this. I'm happy you found Sherlock and all, but you can't just run off, this is a bloody crime scene for a bloody crime and we need to talk to you both. Give me one good reason why I should give you the information after I've looked it up rather than pursue it myself?

[Sherlock rolls his eyes from the driver's seat.]

Obviously because I can solve it and he can't, I would think that's reason enough.

[jumpthegun]

[He's not saying that. John gives Sherlock a look.]

Three days. She told me the main event would start in three days two days ago, detective. All of this was the opening act. D'you really want us to slow down? She's only on C, and it might-

[He cuts himself off for a moment as something clicks.]

Lestrade, I think you should be very careful the next while. 'D' might be for 'Detective Inspector.'

[howdull]

That's, well, thanks for saying I mean something in your life, mate.

[Lestrade sounds a little wrong-footed, as he thought they'd established all the people and places so far were important ones to John.]

But that still doesn't mean I'm going to help you both drive yourself into the ground. Where are you going? I'm coming to talk this over with the pair of you.

[jumpthegun]

[Lestrade is the first detective John worked with and the one he has the closest connection to through Sherlock. It wouldn't be Dimmock, certainly. So, if there is a detective inspector in the Alphabet woman's sights, it'll be the one who's been helping them out the most.]

Did you ever get over to Sherlock's old flat in Shepherd's Bush Green to check for clues from the Alphabet Woman? That's where we're headed.

[howdull]

Right. [His voice sounds tight and disapproving.] Two hours and I'll meet you there, got it?

[He doesn't wait for a response before he hangs up. He's honestly furious, these two idiots are driving themselves into the ground for this case. He can understand it, but he doesn't like it.]

Talk me through what happened while you were investigating alone.

[Sherlock sounds as if he's only half listening, but he does want to know. Alone, with Molly Hooper, same thing.]

[jumpthegun]

[Well, then. At least Sherlock is going to be laid up for a while. That should give Lestrade time to come to them. He glances over at Sherlock, wondering if he really should be the one driving considering the man is in mild respiratory distress that's only going to get worse. It is what it is for right now. Hopefully, they can get to the flat quickly.]

After I left the Diogenes Club, I got the messages from the Alphabet Woman. We set up a meeting at a Starbucks on Oxford Street. Mycroft didn't seem like he was keen to offer a ride, and I ended up faking a heart condition to get a kid named Jake to give me a ride over there. We'd stopped a light a couple of blocks from the Thames and the Alphabet Woman just... got in.

She had a gun with her and told Jake to start driving. [John closes his eyes, trying to dredge up details.] She was wearing a hoodie, panda bear on the front, crucifix, and hoop earrings, along with her wedding ring. Cross-dominant shot, probably after the accident. She was holding the gun left-handed. Somerset accent, but... it was like she was putting on an act at first. Accent got rougher as things went along.

[howdull]

[He's actually quite impressed with John having the gumption to fake a heart condition to get what he wanted, and even more so at the details recovered. It's not as much as he could manage, of course, but still very good for John's usual level of observation.]

Excellent, John.

[It would probably be more complimentary if he didn't sound quite so surprised.]

Now, what can we infer from those endlessly useful nuggets of information?

[jumpthegun]

She was tracking the phone Mycroft gave me. I pitched it when Molly picked me up. [He thinks, anyway. She'd have to be tracking his every move with CCTV at all times to be able to figure where he was, otherwise.] And, uh... she's religious? [And likes pandas? There's only so far he can get with that.]

There's something else, though. She had us drive down through the warehouses, just looking for a quiet spot. She got out of the car and then shot Jake through the stomach. [It's another point for the Danny connection.] She said she wanted to see what I could do and I had eleven minutes and fifteen seconds before I could call an ambulance.

[howdull]

[Sherlock takes his eyes off the road long enough to shoot John a withering glance. Hardly an impressive array of deductions with all the interesting little clues that had been presented to them.]

We can assume that's how long it took for you to reach her husband on the battlefield.

[Seems obvious enough.]

What else, John? Think.

[jumpthegun]

She's a damn good shot. [That's not a deduction so much as an observation.] She managed to hit a swerving car twice when we were pulling away from her. [This isn't actually relevant, but he has to share it because it's cool and he still feels a little like a secret agent.]

I had Jake lay his chair back to deal with the wound, then told him to hit the accelerator while I put us in gear and drove backward out onto Oxford street. It was like something out of James Bond. [John clears his throat.] They, uh... made me go to hospital after that and knocked me out for a day.

I had Molly pick me up after I... left. [Escaped.] We figured we'd go to Blink and Ink... Ink and... whatever the place is called. Molly and I managed to convince one of the managers we were from Scotland Yard and got the address where you were at, along with another description of the Alphabet Woman from an employee who worked with her. She said the woman paid in cash for the cards.

[howdull]

You're too short to be James Bond, he has to be taller than the female co-star in order to seem dominant and masculine. Most of the Bond girls are models, meaning their height is in the upper regions for a woman, far too tall for you to play opposite.

[He doesn't even intend for that to be hurtful, it's just an observation as he swings the car into Baker Street.]

I meant what more can you deduce about her, John. Your exploits with Molly are largely irrelevant to solving this case.

[jumpthegun]

There are short models. [The dig stings, even if it's not meant to. John knows that conversation isn't going to go anywhere, though.]

I dunno. She was kind of insane. She kept referring to me as Captain Watson and got really upset when I asked if she was the wife of one of my men. That all just fits into place with what we've already figured out, though. With the accent... maybe she's not so well-educated? But if she isn't, she has to have picked up a hell of a lot on-the-job with her being able to hack my phone and the CCTV. That or she's got an accomplice who's good with technology.

[howdull]

Good!

[He sounds enthused again, smile finding his face. His chest hurts a bit, but that's irrelevant at the current moment in time.]

An accomplice, that's exactly what she has. She also clearly wasn't long in the army herself, not wearing something as vulnerable to attack as hoop earrings, yet she's a good shot with her non-dominant hand. Most likely this accomplice also helped her in that area.

[jumpthegun]

[His brows rise. That was right? Oh! He feels a little lighter, in spite of things. Granted, it probably took Sherlock two seconds to work that all out, but it's nice of him to let John get there on his own every once in a while.]

So, I've got two people who hate my guts? That's nice to know.

PLEASE PRETEND I SAID SHEPHERD'S BUSH NOT BAKER STREET UP THERE gdi brain

[howdull]

Perhaps. Perhaps not. The accomplice could be someone who cares about her enough to assist her, they may not have any direct link to you at all.

[Or possibly they do, but it's unlikely. John is far too amenable to have two deadly enemies.

He pulls Molly's car to the curb and kills the engine, getting out of the car and staggering a step before recovering his balance. Damn poisoning.]

NEVER

[jumpthegun]

[John pulls himself out, as well, a little preoccupied with his own struggles to remain active and upright to notice Sherlock's initial stumble. He grabs the bag with the extra clothes and the medicine Molly bought, and heads around to get the door. He does notice that Sherlock's moving slowly. Hopefully the supplies he requested from Mycroft will be there.]

Mm... so a family member or friend? [A pause before he adds.] We need to get you on that respirator immediately.

[howdull]

Yes, I agree.

[At least Mycroft probably isn't petty enough to have sent the equipment to the Hilton instead, but one never knows with big brother. He gets the door unlocked and steps aside for John to go up first.]

We'll need to work quickly, the survival rate for ricin poisoning is only thirty four percent and I refuse to die with a case unsolved.

[jumpthegun]

[Luckily, Sherlock's continued survival in this world outweighs pettiness. The IV equipment, saline fluid, oxygen mask and canisters, and blood pressure and seizure medications are sitting near the bed when they enter. The activated charcoal and tubing are there, as well, but in retrospect, they probably aren't going to do much. Sherlock didn't ingest castor beans. He'd been injected. Still, it might come in handy for something else if the Alphabet Woman does decide to poison them. There's a distinct air of the place having been cleaned... or maybe it was just swept for drugs. John's not sure at this point.

He'll set down his bag before starting to set up the equipment. The oxygen is a priority, and John ignores the aches and pains in his own body as he bends to attend to it.]

Take off your coat and put a shirt on if you want it. Don't do up the cuffs.

[The direction isn't meant to be particularly patronizing. John's going into doctor mode. That means directing the patient.]

[howdull]

[Luckily for John, this is one area where Sherlock will take direction fairly easily, because he trusts John's capability as a medical professional. He notes the equipment and makes a mental reminder to mock Mycroft for losing that particular battle of wills later.

The coat comes off and Sherlock crosses to his closet to pull on some loose pyjama pants and a t-shirt, easier to deal with than being properly dressed for this.]

I suppose she intends for me to die tomorrow, thus marking the starting pistol of her 'main event'.

[jumpthegun]

[Then they'll be making sure her gun jams. John's tone is darker when he speaks.]

There isn't going to be a main event. Lie down on the bed.

[A part of him knows that he should try to show some level of empathy for this woman and what she's lost. That she's been driven mad in her grief is extremely troubling. But she murdered his big sister, blew up his home, shot an innocent kid through the stomach, and tried to murder Sherlock. It's difficult to look past.]

Lestrade will be here in a few hours. Once I have you hooked up to everything and you've taken your meds, you'll lie there until he arrives. Have you got that?

[howdull]

No, a few hours is too long, I could well be delirious by then and of no help to either of you.

[He sits on the bed rather than lying down, and settles himself back against the wall ready for John to begin his doctoring.]

The first thing we need to do is find out which hospital your Danny was transferred to after he left your care, then ring them and get access to their records on his recovery.

[jumpthegun]

[Should he be writing this down for reference? No. He'll try to remember. John finishes hooking up the first bag of saline solution to the IV, then takes Sherlock's arm and sets that to rights in him. The oxygen is important, but he needs to take pills first. And also, talking with the mask on will be harder.]

All right. Bill might know that. Or Lestrade can probably find out.

[He hates calling Bill back after leaving off with him on such an ominous note. Molly might be able to request the records for them, as well, if Lestrade isn't an option. She has the fax at Barts.]

What are we looking for in his recovery records? Just what turned him suicidal?

[howdull]

[He gives John a Look. The sort of Look that says that he is contemplating just how it's possible for someone to maintain motor function with such a limited brain capacity.]

Obviously.

[They're hardly looking up his blood type!]

Complications during recovery, any other family or friends who may have visited and would be able to be contacted to discuss the state of both his marriage and health.

[jumpthegun]

Right.

[Just checking. John feels chastened as he heads into the kitchen to find a glass. It's nice all of the utilities have been kept on here for whatever reason. He rinses one off that he finds quickly and fills it up. The doctor hands Sherlock the glass while he checks the medication that's been left. A moment latter, the correct dosages for each are being handed to him.]

And you said there was a baby. Should we check for a death certificate?