Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P10 “It’s bad luck to loiter in doorways, Lestrade.” Sherlock said lazily. “And don’t all police have superstitious minds?” He half smiled.More Like This
“How’d you…” Lestrade gave his head a little shake and stepped inside. “How are you?”
Sherlock’s eyes popped open, his lips tightened, “John? If I’m distracted by one more triviality, I’m pulling this needle out and leaving.”
“Not bloody likely,” John told him sternly. “You won’t like life much if you leave here before you’ve had a chance for that arm to heal. The painkillers-
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P9 Every day is my birthday when I’m in the Yard, John thought. He looked at Holmes, bleeding and pale, and knew this had to end soon, or they risked his death.More Like This
Sherlock realized this too. He made a gun shape with his right hand and flicked his wrist upward. John read that to mean, ‘Shoot him’. Holmes was all about expediency now that his mind was clouding with fever and blood loss. He’d solved the thing. He wanted it done.
“Come out, Holmes. It’s you I want. No one else is going to get hurt if you come out. Not that pretty girl of yours, I saw you with. No one.”
Sarah, he meant. John glanced at her fright
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P8 Within five minutes, Lestrade and a decidedly hand-cuff-free Kelly Carter walked down the hall which ran parallel the glass wall. Carter was in sweats now, rather than in uniform. Sherlock scanned her head to toe as she came through the door and leered at him.More Like This
“Well if it ain’t Billie-no-mates his-self.”
“Himself.” Sherlock said reflexively. It didn’t seem to bother him he’d been called a friendless outcast. No, it was the grammar that got to him.
“I been offered immunity, nancy, how do you like that?” She sat down in the chair on his right and leaned her elbows on it.
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P7 Sherlock was seated at Melody’s desk when they arrived. Donovan’s temper was doing a slow boil by the look of her inflexible back and bared teeth. John extended a hand to detain Sarah. His voice was low. “Let him finish.”More Like This
Sherlock opened desk drawers and started looking around.
Organized. Not tidy.
Two nail files.
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P6 “Hello,” John said a little hoarsely, wondering if he might just have snapped again, and was imagining Mycroft now. And, oh my God, is that Sarah behind him? She looked afraid and relieved at the same time, and badly seemed to want to run to him.More Like This
“Well, this is convenient,” Mycroft smiled pleasantly. “I’ve just come from the Home Office. There are some serious concerns, Commander Snow.”
Mycroft Holmes was not a huggable type of man. He was actually quite slick and clever, like some unholy union between a snake and a crow. John might have hugged him right then. In fact, the tension draining out almost made him giddy.
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P5 Lestrade parked the car in the garage, shut the engine, and looked at the blank slab concrete wall before him. He set his hands back on the wheel, his knuckles nicked and traced with old scars. No one moved. Sherlock probably didn’t know they’d stopped yet.More Like This
“Commander Snow,” Lestrade sounded irritated. His eyes glanced off the mirror to the back seat, and missing Sherlock’s attention entirely, fixed on John. “There’s a decent possibility that he won’t allow you into the building, and you can be certain he’s been told we’re on the way. That’s likely to mean he has people waiting for us.”
“He’s a big fan of Sherlock’s,” John rubbed his cheek an
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P4 “You didn’t tell him about the letter.” John said quietly. “Isn’t there a chance this is still sitting in the mail room on this floor somewhere, you know, going between offices in the Met, rather than outside the building?”More Like This
“Yes. And we’ll be looking for it as soon as the bleeding stops,” Sherlock said breathlessly. It had taken a lot of his energy to keep a front up for Lestrade. He pulled up his knees and sagged to the wall now. His face was shock white.
“Drink this.” John opened a sugary orange juice that Sarah had thoughtfully thrown into the bag. She’d dropped in a four-pack and Watson knew they’d need every bottle.
Sherlock cracked an eye open, took the container, and he
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P3 It was a strange transition for him though, out of a world of salacious murders, forensics, and implacable logical puzzles into a 9 to 5 job. It was throwing the brakes on a Mack truck. The next few hours were wholly devoid of crushed skulls, smugglers, wily serial killers, and high art thieves of any kind. What he did have was:More Like This
1 case of tonsillitis
1 torn ligament
2 allergic reactions
6 colds or running noses
1 case of tennis elbow
The office was secure and safe. It ran like a well-oiled machine. For example, the personnel were warm and welcoming. They treated incoming patients like coffee shop guests. Possibly because of the handling, the patients seemed like decent people under their aches and pains. He saw a couple of Sarah’s patients when she fell behind on vaccinations. She had four year old twins tearing through her examination room. It was funny to
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P2 John brought the ladder. Together, they cleared down the boxes until they could open the one stacked lowest. It, Sherlock said, had a duplicated case number. Inside it, they found padding – bent and folded cardboard – and a smaller box. Inside that was a stout, clear plastic bag, like the kind one found around furniture, and, inside, a black garbage bag. They’d found the missing janitor (who had yet to be called in as missing.) He was small in size, and Asian. He sat with his knees against his chest, his head down, and his arms tucked inside.More Like This
Sherlock’s head tipped to one side.
Once John and Lestrade lifted
Sherlock - The Ninth Muse P1 Sherlock’ s notes were as likely to be full of commentary on the inanity of today’s news anchors and his personal preferences regarding soy sauce and grammar than any blasts of genius, most people didn’t get that about him. But John Watson did. This infernal storm of papers all over the room is exactly what happened when you noticed everything. Genius was an untidy affair.More Like This
Holmes records meandered like a forsaken cow abandoned in the desert, from ‘There were clear signs of formalin in the divots of the bowling ball – faintly detectable to the nose – enough to prove the client was lying; he had been in the University that night’, to ‘We are out of yogurt; who is responsible for this?’, although that last one, John felt a super-sleuth should have known.
BBC Sherlock - The Double Walker P1 The clinic felt cold and crowded with the air conditioning roaring away above him. John disliked the heat, but then, several years in Afghanistan had taught him tolerance. Cold was something he’d always hated. It came from early childhood remembrances of his father losing jobs, and the family limping through winters on what could be scrimped, saved, borrowed, or begged. That had been seasonal work. John had decided for the steady course of the military. They’d paid to make him a doctor, and he’d given them a good 5 years of his life in gratitude.More Like This
He hated the cold.
He also disliked this meeting.
The senior doctor in the clinic had a smal
BBC Sherlock - The Double Walker P2 Warren made a little moue of disbelief.More Like This
There were mutters. Some soft swears. None of the City police looked very pleased to find out it was them he was addressing. Dark looks swept over him and Lestrade, and more than one expression of disgust and antagonism sprang up.
Whoa. Lestrade winced and glanced at the SIO. “We should remove them, quickly.” as in, before Sherlock got a head of steam. He could be a tyrant in a tantrum – a real little soldier’s boots, or however that went.
The SIO gave herself a shake. “You mean…. Remove my investigators? Why’s that?” She glanced around her in
BBC Sherlock - The Double Walker P3 John blinked. The clouds cleared back from his shoulders. Daft flatmate! Who had said it? He’d said it, though not in so many words.More Like This
‘You said six pints and she’d still be in critical trouble.’ John fumbled across his phone’s keyboard with an oath that startled a passerby.
Sherlock, in contrast, texted with the fleetness of a rabbit:
‘Absent from sentence = the word dead.’
‘Need assistant. Come now.’
The Photography Club - P12 “Looks wide enough you could get a car through.” Sherlock said from inside the lot. He sized up the hole in the fence and then looked at the ground around him. “So it was Mycroft who detected the cause of the black-out. He doesn’t like people messing with his city, and he’s been having us much more closely monitored than before.” Sherlock grimaced. “The street I was on went dark, Mycroft’s people reported an anomaly, he probably checked for the cause himself. It was suspicious, so he reversed it, and then he texted me. It was less than 10 minutes afterward.” He showed John the phone. The text looked innocuous.More Like This
It said: ‘What mischief are we up to tonight, Sherlock?’
The Photography Club - P11 The room selected was an old interrogation room, complete with an observational window. These had mostly been phased out in favour of video. However, John could see the charm of this type of a room sitting in a building that hosted a museum of crime. It could’ve been picked up, cinder by cinder, and brought downstairs. As it was, they’d had to ride the elevator to the lower floors to find this relic. Nothing about it was glassy or clear. And it was beige and dull green. Sherlock hated it immediately. He walked in, turned around, and tried to leave.More Like This
When that didn’t work, he sighed, took off his coat, and draped it over a metal chair.
To John, stood on the opposite side, in the observation room, the space looked cold and hostil
The Photography Club - P10 “Oh my God. Could be a test.” John forced himself to slow his breathing, roll Sherlock’s sleeve down, and button it again. “How long should this last? I’m sorry – illicit drugs… not my area.”More Like This
“Don’t know how much they gave him, what it was cut with, or how pure it is,” she said softly. “I mean, this is all wrong for a guy on coke. He should be wild. This is some kind of mix.” Reese rested her head on his curls and closed her eyes. “I’m keeping him warm. Just get us out of here. Make it happen, John. I’m done handling shit for tonight.”
John sat back on his heels and watched them a moment. And then he tucked Sherlock’s arm b
The Photography Club - P9 So John brought Sherlock to one of his favourite Indian restaurants. The area of town it was situated in had gone to seed, unfortunately, some time ago, but John had loved the place since his life had been full of concerns like first kisses and clear skin. It was family run. Sherlock had never been to the place before, so he wandered the interior for a good 15 to 20 minutes before sitting down.More Like This
John had mostly ignored his free-range flatmate in favour of the new menu.
The girl taking drink orders knew John as a regular. “He all right?”
“Sherlock’s never been here before. Just be glad he’s not using the magnifier.”
The Photography Club - P8 “Maybe it’s too much adrenaline from the fight, but you’re a bit unglued,” John told Sherlock quietly. He smoothed his coat. “So what’s happened?”More Like This
Holmes huffed a few deep breaths of air and looked across at where Reese stared at him. Her face was entirely unguarded. When Sherlock was being so obvious about reading people, he tended to look keen as a weapon – his inner radar making his green eyes seem soulless. Reese, with those societally imposed screens down, had the unblinking intensity of a camera. Sherlock looked away from her almost immediately, the corners of his mouth dimpling his cheeks in a soft grimace. Whatever John could make out in Sherlock’s expression and posture, she was seeing gads more, and he was visibly pulling himself under control again, because of it.
The Photography Club - P7 John frowned. “Sarah’s not coming with us, Reese. I’m sorry but-”More Like This
Sarah slid into her coat and picked up her purse. She walked around the coffee table and reached out to link arms with Reese, in fact. “If we lose contact, or it looks dodgy, I’m phoning Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sarah gave Reese a stunning smile. “I’m so glad to meet you, Reese.”
“Then you’re seriously misinformed. But there’s no time to worry about that. Listen closely and you can hear-”
“Distant sirens on the approach,” Sherlock agreed. “Shut the doors, John. Let
The Photography Club - P6 “Don’t be a smartass, Mr. Holmes!” Lewis barked. The huge man gave the door a few good pushes that jerked Sherlock’s entire frame. He put his head down and beamed. “Oh wait. I can hear him going away.”More Like This
“He’s getting Scott,” Reese stood about three feet off of Holmes, her arms crossed. “Nice work though. I mean, you’re so slim. I can’t believe you could keep him from bursting in the door. My hero.”
“Hardly,” Sherlock looked up at her. “Much more and I was going to tag you. Not to mention,” he reached across and flicked the lock back and forth, “this lovely British metal I have.”
The Photography Club - P5 “What’s he doing?” one of the flat mates yelped. He’d almost toppled to the floor. “People are still sleeping, man! Have a mind!”More Like This
“Most definitely,” Holmes motioned about him. “Move… stuff.”
John moved the coffee table. He started to collect the game consoles, scattered books, and other whatnot on the floor to one side. “Uh, Sherlock, what are you doing?”
“I looked at his book shelf,” Sherlock half turned. “Clear as day, the notation flags in the books are patterns. There are oscilloscope patterns, like a voiceprint, but without the spectrog
The Photography Club - P4 “Well, I don’t understand the need for this,” Special Agent Young pushed a lock of white blonde hair off of her face and warmed her hands on a cup of coffee.More Like This
“Freak doesn’t eat when he’s on a case,” Donovan sighed. They had the table beside the door of the soup and sandwich shop in which the team sat. “We’re doing this for John. And John’s a nice guy.”
Young’s grey-blue eyes narrowed as she looked at Lestrade. “You run it differently over here. It’s very… unstructured. I mean, are you sure you’re getting everything you can out of him with your method? If you… have a method?”
The Photography Club - P3 Reese’s painted lips opened for a moment, and, as if on springs, her jaw clacked closed into the coldest and bitterest of expressions. She almost looked betrayed. The girl swung around and headed back up the hall the way she’d come.More Like This
Sherlock looked at the windows and gave a light little puff of exhalation. It was the acidic disappointment that caught John’s attention. He looked up at Holmes’ empty searching of the windows and desks and glass offices, and felt in those gestures the desolation beneath. It occurred to John that Sherlock had never met someone like him before. I mean, Mycroft, arguably, but… never someone outside of his own family. And like with Sofia, earlier tonight, whatever he’d meant, Sherlock hadn’t been able to establish a connection.
UntitledBBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P9 Sarah reached up and touched the bruises on his face. Her fingers were gentle, but the touch stung enough that Sherlock’s eye watered in reaction. She watched this with fascination and drew her fingertips across his bottom lid. A tear from those eyes was probably rarer than diamonds. “Be careful, Sherlock. Take care of John. Let John take care of you.”More Like This
“Nothing I can do to stop him.” Sherlock took her hands in his, gave them a squeeze and set them firmly away from him. “Sarah, we’ll loop feed here in a minute. For the first three or four minutes, just lean in the corner and try to look vulnerable and afraid, but hold the position.”
Sherlock’s words encouraged her. Saying that she had t
BBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P8 He showed the two men. Neither of them said anything, in fact, Tsitov refused to look at the page before him. However, Bogrov glanced at it. Sherlock watched a small knot form between the man’s brows. Holmes returned the notepad to his side of the table. Next he wrote.More Like This
I would kill my daughter.
This didn’t register with Bogrov at all. He had no children. He was familiar with none. It didn’t bother him. Tsitov still refused to look. John could see his resolve weakening. There was no way Sherlock couldn’t see the same. Now Sherlock had written.
Rurik hates his wife.
BBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P7 “That him? You texted him earlier, right?”More Like This
“No… I didn’t. Yes… it is him.” They were almost to the Yard now. In fact, the car pulled up as Sherlock stared at his phone screen. “Hm. I wonder what he’s up to?”
“What’s it say?” John glanced at the black phone’s surface.
“Says, ‘You’ve been summoned to the Yard’. Since when does Lestrade say ‘summoned’ in general conversation, let alone in a text.” His brows bounced up in sudden curiosity, and he got out of the cab with hints of that old Sherlock excitement about him.
BBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P6 The monitors all went to black, and then, to normal. It was as if every soul in the room had been thrown down by a god. They stood blinking at their documents and forms, their mundane humdrum, at the loop of newsfeed overhead, and a sudden wave of hubbub erupted. Their eyes had been opened. The room was now as loud as a concert hall. Everything Lestrade could hear was about what Sherlock had just shown to them. And, dear God, Holmes’ had hacked the Yard. Less than 10 minutes and he’d electrified every soul in Homicide and Serious Crime. Cops locked machines and grabbed their coats around him. The raw, thoughtless power of that child… it made Lestrade’s hair stand on end.More Like This
And then IT people ran out of the stairwell and into the room, gasping and staring around wildly.
BBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P5 Then Sherlock shook his head. Katrya’s long, lean frame leaned back to stare up at him. She crossed her arms and distinctly didn’t look the silhouette of a woman admitting defeat.More Like This
John drew back behind the dust covered furnishings between their areas and sat on his bed. He couldn’t keep from uttering a few chuckles as he strapped on the shoulder rig and pulled on his coat. He had hold of himself by the time he stepped into his boots. Sherlock settled on the bed across from him with a huff, and rubbed both his eyes as if they were itchy. “The Russians…”
“A fiery people,” John said. And then burst into giggles. He covered his mouth with one hand.
BBC Sherlock - The Burning Question P4 John didn’t even bother to answer that. He turned and made his way through the offices behind Sherlock. His stomach twisted with worry for Katrya downstairs. How would she know to leave? Where would she go?More Like This
In the elevator he looked up at Holmes. “I hope you know what you’re doing. She’s got nothing without us, and we can’t be seen with her now.”
Sherlock turned to look down on him. “Oh look at you. Look at the worry. That’s endearing, John. You should try that look out on Sarah. It’s got all the appeal of a puppy.”
“This isn’t funny, Sherlock. Katrya’s putting her fai
The BeadDid I tell you that there's a bead of water floating around my house?More Like This
It's always bouncing around, going wherever it damn well pleases
It shines like a ball of light in the morning sun and the night moon
When people come over, it's always an interesting conversation piece
It's pretty useless otherwise; I only keep it because it's nice to look at
Did I tell you that there's a bead of water floating around my house?
Sacrifice MeSacrifice me for your satisfactionMore Like This
Cut me up and watch me bleed
Sweetened words for my heart's extraction
Secretly fulfilling your every need
Hold me down
Watch me drown
In this river of emotion
Hit the ground
My biggest fault was my devotion
Add another scar to the collection
On my sorrow, you will feed
You weren't satisfied with my affection
You've nothing left to blame now but your greed