Status: Enjoy! Comments/ advice appreciated
Repens
Aching
Sherlock was fiercely tapping his iPhone, searching large businesses around the Stratford station. John was doing the same on his laptop.
"He picked a fantastic area to hide. Large factories, construction, and apartment complexes everywhere," John sighed, tired in advance from the task at hand.
"Yes but Sebastian isn't intelligent enough to be leading this. There has to be someone giving him orders."
"But who?"
Sherlock didn't answer for a moment then stated, "We must think of the connections Sebastian has. Who does he know with large facilities? Perhaps close to his profession?" He paused again, pulling his mobile from his pocket. "Yes, Lestrade, I'm coming over to look at some files on someone. Be there in ten minutes. Have two cups of tea waiting."
Thirteen minutes later, the three men were huddled around a computer searching Sebastain's records.
"Now who is this?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock and John had simply walked in without a sentence of explanation. They weren't supposed to be on the computers anyway but it made the inspector particularly angry when he didn't even know what the data bases were being used for.
When Sherlock didn't answer, John quietly replied, "An old schoolmate of Sherlock's. Kidnapped a friend of ours."
"A friend? Since when did you two start making friends?"
Sherlock paused to give Lestrade an irritated glare then continued pounding on keys.
"Actually," John nervously coughed, "it's a bit more than a friend." How could he say it without making his flat mate upset yet convey the importance to the matter to Greg?
"He kidnapped my girlfriend," the low voice at the computer nearly whispered.
Both John and Lestrade were too shocked to speak. John because it was the first time Sherlock had told anyone he had a girlfriend and Lestrade because Sherlock had a girlfriend. The consulting detective continued as if nothing had been odd about the conversation but the other two took longer to control their disbelief.
"There it is," Holmes muttered, now clicking one of several links tied to the bankers name.
"You know…" Lestrade said with a great deal of hesitance, "when someone goes missing, that is actually our division."
"The way I see it, you have at least two choices." John tried to stop his friend but only received a silencing glare before Sherlock continued. "You can either keep this one off records and let me do what I do better than you, until the call comes in to arrest those involved, or you can tell me to stay clear and I'll ignore you. Simple enough, don't you think, John?"
"Don't waste my time. My boys have this under control," Greg sneered.
The tall man in the black long coat immediately rose from his chair, turned, and stood toe to toe with Lestrade. His eyes were unusually wild, letting those watching know he meant business.
"Don't waste MY time," Holmes hissed with a fierce expression. "Your boys… couldn’t even handle Jim Moriarty when you had him in a bloody prison cell."
"Well this isn't Moriarty is it?" It was said after a moment of sheer terror. Greg hated when Sherlock knew he had control. Sometimes talking back was the only way to get the childish man off his ego kick.
"We don't," Sherlock returned. "Not yet."
"But he's dead!" Greg yelled.
"You don't mean… You don't think he's still alive, do you?"
Sherlock turned to his most loyal companion and gave the familiar small silent nod- the one that told John everything he needed to know without a single spoken word.
Lestrade scratched his head, weighing his options, yet he already knew what had to be done.
"You have two days, Sherlock. Two and that is all. Then you make the call and we take over. That is already breaking protocol and gives you time to work your magic. Three rules." Sherlock didn't even bother looking at the Scotland Yard leader before gathering his printed pages from the printer. "Rule one is that you be careful, more than usual. Two is keep in contact; something happens, let us know. And three is…"
Rule three wasn't heard. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were already down the hall. Lestrade had time to release a heavy sigh before the two were completely out of sight.
"Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend," he said to himself, still very curious.
The backseat of the cab returning to Baker Street was silent and had been since leaving Scotland Yard. When the cab pulled up, John paid as Sherlock slid out. They crept up the stairs but Mrs. Hudson heard them as if they had ran up.
"Have you heard anything, boys? Oh, please say you have." She was talking to both of them but staring desperately at Sherlock.
"We only know the name of one person connected with the kidnapping," he replied, almost embarrassed for not having more.
"Just keep to it," said the teary woman. "Sleep and eat when you have to but hurry."
"We’re doing everything we can," John assured in a low solemn tone.
She nodded then waved them on upstairs. Once they got up and settled, Sherlock immediately picked up his violin and bow. John knew him well enough to know that he needed to be worried. He also knew that he had never seen Sherlock so-was it possible?-sentimental. The brilliant detective everyone thought was without a heart was aching for the young woman that had brought the best of him out for the world to see. Stephanie Thomas had changed him for the better yet that fact held a power that could prove damaging- making Sherlock worse than before. But when a melody started, it almost brought the good doctor to tears.
It was the most beautifully haunting melody his flat mate had ever composed. Never before had there been such complex runs and harmonies from Sherlock's violin. The tune was high and hopeful before growing dark and bleak. But before the last several chords, the promise of happiness had been restored. As the last note rang out, John found himself speechless. One thought echoed in his mind but he was nervous to say it aloud. Feeling that it needed to be said more for Sherlock than for himself, he took a deep inhale and released it- the words sounding odd even as they came out.
"You're in love."
Sherlock Holmes' eyes flew to his best friend for a fleeting moment. The genius obviously felt exposed, his cheeks a hint more red than before.
He gently placed his violin and bow in their proper place before stating, "We have to find her, John." A heartbreaking pause. "I… have to find her."
"He picked a fantastic area to hide. Large factories, construction, and apartment complexes everywhere," John sighed, tired in advance from the task at hand.
"Yes but Sebastian isn't intelligent enough to be leading this. There has to be someone giving him orders."
"But who?"
Sherlock didn't answer for a moment then stated, "We must think of the connections Sebastian has. Who does he know with large facilities? Perhaps close to his profession?" He paused again, pulling his mobile from his pocket. "Yes, Lestrade, I'm coming over to look at some files on someone. Be there in ten minutes. Have two cups of tea waiting."
Thirteen minutes later, the three men were huddled around a computer searching Sebastain's records.
"Now who is this?" Lestrade asked.
Sherlock and John had simply walked in without a sentence of explanation. They weren't supposed to be on the computers anyway but it made the inspector particularly angry when he didn't even know what the data bases were being used for.
When Sherlock didn't answer, John quietly replied, "An old schoolmate of Sherlock's. Kidnapped a friend of ours."
"A friend? Since when did you two start making friends?"
Sherlock paused to give Lestrade an irritated glare then continued pounding on keys.
"Actually," John nervously coughed, "it's a bit more than a friend." How could he say it without making his flat mate upset yet convey the importance to the matter to Greg?
"He kidnapped my girlfriend," the low voice at the computer nearly whispered.
Both John and Lestrade were too shocked to speak. John because it was the first time Sherlock had told anyone he had a girlfriend and Lestrade because Sherlock had a girlfriend. The consulting detective continued as if nothing had been odd about the conversation but the other two took longer to control their disbelief.
"There it is," Holmes muttered, now clicking one of several links tied to the bankers name.
"You know…" Lestrade said with a great deal of hesitance, "when someone goes missing, that is actually our division."
"The way I see it, you have at least two choices." John tried to stop his friend but only received a silencing glare before Sherlock continued. "You can either keep this one off records and let me do what I do better than you, until the call comes in to arrest those involved, or you can tell me to stay clear and I'll ignore you. Simple enough, don't you think, John?"
"Don't waste my time. My boys have this under control," Greg sneered.
The tall man in the black long coat immediately rose from his chair, turned, and stood toe to toe with Lestrade. His eyes were unusually wild, letting those watching know he meant business.
"Don't waste MY time," Holmes hissed with a fierce expression. "Your boys… couldn’t even handle Jim Moriarty when you had him in a bloody prison cell."
"Well this isn't Moriarty is it?" It was said after a moment of sheer terror. Greg hated when Sherlock knew he had control. Sometimes talking back was the only way to get the childish man off his ego kick.
"We don't," Sherlock returned. "Not yet."
"But he's dead!" Greg yelled.
"You don't mean… You don't think he's still alive, do you?"
Sherlock turned to his most loyal companion and gave the familiar small silent nod- the one that told John everything he needed to know without a single spoken word.
Lestrade scratched his head, weighing his options, yet he already knew what had to be done.
"You have two days, Sherlock. Two and that is all. Then you make the call and we take over. That is already breaking protocol and gives you time to work your magic. Three rules." Sherlock didn't even bother looking at the Scotland Yard leader before gathering his printed pages from the printer. "Rule one is that you be careful, more than usual. Two is keep in contact; something happens, let us know. And three is…"
Rule three wasn't heard. Sherlock Holmes and John Watson were already down the hall. Lestrade had time to release a heavy sigh before the two were completely out of sight.
"Sherlock Holmes has a girlfriend," he said to himself, still very curious.
The backseat of the cab returning to Baker Street was silent and had been since leaving Scotland Yard. When the cab pulled up, John paid as Sherlock slid out. They crept up the stairs but Mrs. Hudson heard them as if they had ran up.
"Have you heard anything, boys? Oh, please say you have." She was talking to both of them but staring desperately at Sherlock.
"We only know the name of one person connected with the kidnapping," he replied, almost embarrassed for not having more.
"Just keep to it," said the teary woman. "Sleep and eat when you have to but hurry."
"We’re doing everything we can," John assured in a low solemn tone.
She nodded then waved them on upstairs. Once they got up and settled, Sherlock immediately picked up his violin and bow. John knew him well enough to know that he needed to be worried. He also knew that he had never seen Sherlock so-was it possible?-sentimental. The brilliant detective everyone thought was without a heart was aching for the young woman that had brought the best of him out for the world to see. Stephanie Thomas had changed him for the better yet that fact held a power that could prove damaging- making Sherlock worse than before. But when a melody started, it almost brought the good doctor to tears.
It was the most beautifully haunting melody his flat mate had ever composed. Never before had there been such complex runs and harmonies from Sherlock's violin. The tune was high and hopeful before growing dark and bleak. But before the last several chords, the promise of happiness had been restored. As the last note rang out, John found himself speechless. One thought echoed in his mind but he was nervous to say it aloud. Feeling that it needed to be said more for Sherlock than for himself, he took a deep inhale and released it- the words sounding odd even as they came out.
"You're in love."
Sherlock Holmes' eyes flew to his best friend for a fleeting moment. The genius obviously felt exposed, his cheeks a hint more red than before.
He gently placed his violin and bow in their proper place before stating, "We have to find her, John." A heartbreaking pause. "I… have to find her."