Sherlock Holmes (
howdull) wrote in
fossilised2016-11-06 04:25 pm
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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.]
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[It's snapped in cold fury, John's efforts at putting on a show of being impassive crumbling. But he does have a thought, something tickling at the back of his mind. Jim being so blasé is good. Why is it good? It's infuriating. It's something to do with the phone. Records? No. Jim could say they talked about anything.
Talking. He's talking. On speaker phone... in a bugged flat. It clicks and John's eyes go wide. He holds his silence, but his mind is ticking back to the texts with Mycroft when he seemed to know what John and Sherlock were saying and doing in the flat. This is it! If he can just get Moriarty to tie himself to Caroline...]
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[He gives a bark of laughter, which is cut off with a muffled voice in the background saying something too inaudible to be made out. He sighs, demeanour fully changing.]
I'm a little busy right now, or didn't anyone ever tell you that it's rude to interrupt people on the phone? Do it again, and I'll flay you.
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Don't lay a hand on her. I swear to god, if you hurt her, Jim...
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Or what, Johnny? You know I like it when you take charge.
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Oh, my, I can see why he keeps you around, that's some spirit you have there. I can't wait to see it broken, it's going to be fun. Anyway, I have to go, people to see and places to go, but I'll be seeing you later. Toodles!
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But then John speaks and his eyes sharpen, grin spreading across his face.]
Every so often, you surprise me with a stroke of genius.
[Of course Mycroft will have been recording!]
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Every so often, I like to give you a run for it. I think you'd best be the one to contact him, though. [John expects relations with the elder Holmes brother will be rocky for the foreseeable future. He tosses his phone on the bed and sets about dressing in the clothes Molly bought for him. He goes as fast as his body will allow and finishes things off by downing one of the painkillers he'd gotten at the base.]
We have our appointment with Jim at 11:30. Think we can find Molly before then?
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[If he were, and he'd been either reviewing the day's footage or watching it live, then Sherlock knows he would have shown up by now after the fit he'd had the previous day.
Curious, though, where would Mycroft go for almost twelve hours? He's not usually someone who enjoys travel. Ah well, he sets it out of his mind for now, Mycroft's movements are far less interesting than this.]
We have to, I won't allow Molly to be hurt in this.
[It's said simply, but firmly. Every so often the part of him that cares, despite his better judgement, does shine through.]
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Start at Caroline's place? Should we let Lestrade know to-
Oh! He put that thing in her car that disrupts bugs or whatever. Think that could be tracked?
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Lestrade will only make this official and possibly spook Moriarty into prematurely killing Molly, better that we deal with this ourselves. We can certainly scope out Caroline's place, but I'm nearly certain she won't be there. I know where she'll be, I just need to think and it'll come to me.
[He does know it, it'll be buried in whatever Moriarty said, but he doesn't know what he knows yet.]
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You know where she'll... you mean the morgue?
[That's the only place John had heard.]
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[It's frustrating, he knows the morgue seems right but there's something off about it.]
Just get in the car and be quiet, let me think as you drive.
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[Which is his way of tacitly asking for Sherlock's card. Again. He really needs to get a proper job when this is all over so that he can pay everyone back, but especially Molly and Sherlock. He'll use his pension money. That should be coming, as well. Eventually. God, no. That's going to have to go to Clara first for Harry's service.
He tries to stop thinking about money and how helpless he feels without it. Another panic attack is going to be extremely counterproductive.]
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[This is very annoying, especially since they're not in an area of London that gets high taxi use. Baker Street was ideal for it, right in the centre where taxis were in high supply, but he can't be waiting around.]
This is ridiculous, too much time and too many checks to rent a car. Order a taxi and we'll buy a car when we've found Molly. Probably best to put it in your name, you'll likely drive it more.
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He realizes that Sherlock's just going to be dismissive, though, so he clamps down on the protest. They can have that conversation later, once Molly is safe.]
Yeah. Sorry. Just a minute.
[He has to snatch Sherlock's phone for the internet service to actually find a cab company to dial and orders them one over to Caroline's address.]
It'll be here in ten minutes. Are you gonna be okay today? [What with passing out over his candy last night.]
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[He looks genuinely confused, as if he's already forgotten the fit and then following spell of unconsciousness of the previous night. He hasn't, but it doesn't seem relevant right now.]
It's hardly as if this is the first time that I've chased a criminal.
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I'll likely have seizures the rest of my life, what's the point in worrying if I will or won't have one while chasing criminals? Ignore it, John, there are more interesting things to think about.
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'Ignore it,' Sherlock says. John doesn't think he'll be able to, but he can pretend for the moment as he hurries after his friend.]
Things like Molly. Right.
[John will leave Sherlock to contemplate in silence as he watches for the cab and flags it down when he notices it creeping along the road, the cabbie obviously checking street numbers.]
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The morgue, of course. But it would never be so simple, that would be a poor clue to be spelled out for them so cleanly. A different morgue? Perhaps. No. He refused to believe she was dead-- what was that noise? It's cutting through his thoughts and scrambling his deductions. He glares over at John, because it's his phone ringing with an unknown number.]
Shut that up.
[Or he will throw it out of the window. This is why his phone is so often off at inopportune moments, or why the doorbell ends up in the fridge.]
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Hello?
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[It's Molly, voice trembling a bit, barely above a whisper.]
John, I've got to give you a clue, are you listening? Just-- just say yes.
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Yes, Molly.
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Agh! I ask you about this and then I lose the tag. /o\
<3
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I need to track this properly with my Watson account because I keep missing this... /facepalm
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own accent*
Re: own accent*
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