Chapter Text
“I think I found the case.” Lestrade says without preamble after John picks up on the call.
“Fantastic, what is it?” John is in Tesco. He generally hates taking calls when he is in the shops, but he has waited all week for this. He stops in an aisle and listens.
“We have a surgeon who was just booked taking drugs out of the dispensary. There is CCTV footage of him going in the building at the time of the crime. Thing is, he claims he didn’t do it and says he can prove he was out of town during one of the thefts.”
John smiles. This plan is going to work. “That’s perfect, Greg. Have someone run it over to Sherlock. I’ll text him now.”
“Will do and good luck mate. I’ll let you know what happens on my end.”
####
I need your advice.
Stop ordering takeaway from Lee Ho’s –SH
More like a professional favor
Can you look at something for me?
What? –SH
Lestrade is going to send someone over with a file.
A case? I’m not working right now. –SH
It’s a surgeon and a good one. He may be innocent of a crime.
It’s a colleague. I’d hate to lose him.
Seems boring. –SH
It’s a favor. You’ll probably solve it in minutes.
I know you are just sitting around.
When have I asked you for help?
???
I’ll look at it. –SH
John grins. He simply needs Sherlock to solve a crime again. He doesn’t think Sherlock can be convinced to just start working on something, anything. Especially since the cases Lestrade has available are petty on the Holmes interest rating system.
Of course, if John somehow makes it into a personal favor, he is confident he won’t be refused. Trying to pull one over Sherlock is almost impossible, but this case is almost tailor-made for his purposes. He doesn't know Dr. Sainani personally, but he is a respected surgeon. As a physician he is technically a colleague. He doesn't even have to try to lie.
The trick was to find a case that looked like John needed Sherlock’s help. Lestrade had been digging around case files and crime reports all week trying to find something, anything that they could use. Thank you Dr. Sainani!
Phase Two of John’s rescue plan is going to be a lot trickier. He really has no idea how Sherlock will react. He isn’t even sure it is the right thing to do because the stakes are a bit high. If he fails the consequences would fall on an innocent third party. Well, he’ll have to accept the responsibility of his mistake somehow if it doesn’t work out.
John hopes Mary won’t mind that he will probably be spending the evening on his laptop. He supposes he’ll start on Gumtree and go from there. Maybe send out some emails and ask around. One thing's for sure. He will do his very best to see that Sherlock Holmes is no longer living alone in his flat by the end of the month.
####
From the Blog of John H. Watson
If you are reading this, I guess you have seen the news that Sherlock Holmes dramatically returned from the dead a couple months ago. I really have no wish to duplicate everything you have read in the papers surrounding Mr. Holmes and his clever disappearance. Instead, I hope to pick up where we left off, and blog about his future cases now he is back in the consulting detective business.
Recently, Mr. Holmes was able to clear the name of a celebrated pediatric surgeon, Dr. Dhruv Sainani. Dr. Sainani was a victim of a jealous colleague, Dr. Frank Mellers, who tried to implicate him in a theft. This case is full of intrigue and clever disguises, but none clever enough to elude Mr. Holmes. London and the National Health Service owes a debt to Mr. Holmes for preserving the career of Dr. Sainani, who can now continue to serve the children of London.
You can read all about the details of “The Adventure of The Stymied Surgeon” in the “Cases” Section in the sidebar.
As always, potential clients are welcome to email Mr. Holmes to contract for casework.
Comments
Deerstaker writes:
Whoo! You’re back! We Believed!
SH writes:
What is the proper Internet vernacular? “I see what you did there.”
Molly writes:
Oh John, this is great to see you both working together again
####
“John.” Sherlock scowls from over his laptop, “John, what have you brought into my home?”
John smiles and sets the puppy on the floor. “This is Gladstone. He’s an English Bulldog.”
“I was being inaccurate. Why is there a dog in my flat?” Sherlock snaps the top of his laptop down and balefully stares at the puppy snuffling along his carpet.
“Well, I was hoping he could stay here a few days.” John tries, “Mrs. Hudson said it was fine.”
“No. I am certainly not watching a puppy.” Sherlock protests, scooping up the dog. “You have a flat. Take him to your flat.” The puppy wiggles in Sherlock’s grasp as he holds him out to John.
John holds his hands away in helplessness, refusing to take back the dog. “I can’t Sherlock. He was for us, you see, but we found out Mary is allergic to dogs. I was really hoping you could just keep him for a couple days. Just long enough so I can sort out another owner for him.”
“John, do I really seem like the person to tend to a useless animal?”
On cue, Mrs. Hudson comes in with tea and biscuits. “John! Is that Gladstone? Oh my goodness what a little thing!” She sets down the tray and takes the dog from Sherlock, and Gladstone starts to energetically lick and squirm in delight in her arms. “Oh look at his wrinkles! He will be fun, don’t you think Sherlock?”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Of course he will! I can even take him for walkies when you are on cases. It will be perfect. Wouldn’t you like that Gladstone? Walkies? ” She coos at the little puppy. John swears he can hear Sherlock's eyes roll.
“It seems Mrs. Hudson would be happy to take him, John.” Sherlock waves his hands at his landlady, who is vigorously ruffling Gladstone’s wrinkles.
“Oh dear, I can help but I can’t possibly take a bulldog all by myself. My hip, you know.” She says sadly. “We can do it together, you and me Sherlock. He’s so cute, and the poor thing has nowhere to go for a few days. Certainly you won’t have John put him out, would you dear?” Mrs. Hudson puts on her very best expression of misery. “Poor thing is just a baby.”
Sherlock throws his hands in the air dramatically. “A few days. John Watson, if he is not out in that time I shall call Dr. Stapleton and see if she needs any new lab subjects. Are we clear?”
“Crystal.” John winks at Mrs. Hudson conspiratorially.
“Don’t think for a moment I don’t know what you are about.” Sherlock grouses, “I can tell you are lying to me. Get rid of the dog. ”
####
Gladstone never becomes a resident of Baskerville.
At the end of the week, Mrs. Hudson sends a John a blurry photo from her camera phone.
Sherlock is asleep in his chair, and Gladstone is in a tight ball in his lap.
John, friend he is, puts it on the blog.
####
Come at once. Contacted about a jewel heist. –SH
Dinner with Mary. There in two hours.
Acceptable. -SH
####
John hates that he still has to do this. It stings of mistrust, but it simply too important to skip.
Sherlock is sulking on the sofa. John realizes a puppy and new interesting clients won’t magically make things better overnight. John knows it takes awhile to adapt and carve out a life, even when things are looking up. It is helping. Sherlock has to leave the flat to walk Gladstone and he even cherry-picks a few investigations that appeal to him. Sherlock is still horribly thin though, and prone to long silent evenings when he can’t even be bothered to reply to texts.
“Let me see.”
“You do realize I can simply choose a less obvious vein.” Sherlock huffs, annoyed. “I'm clean.”
“I'd rather not have you piss in a cup. Let me see.”
Sherlock flings his left arm out, swatting John in the process. John hikes up his sleeve and only finds smooth skin.
“You're doing really well.” John encourages quietly, and squeezes his arm before letting it go. The checking is nothing but a ritual, a formality to say what John finds hard to put into words. I'm here, I care and I'm looking out for you.
Sherlock must know, because he doesn’t have anything snippy to say.
Gladstone breaks the mood and waddles by. He is wearing a new and rather expensive rolled leather collar. Probably hand-stitched. John suspects he is the most spoiled bulldog in London. The puppy makes a decent attempt to snitch John's sandwich sitting on the coffee table, and the sobriety check is soon forgotten.
####
John hurries across the park, looking at his watch. He's late and doesn't have a lot of time on his break today. Sherlock has some crime scene photos for him to look at, and it's right back to work. They have finally been cleared to consult in Homicide again, and Sherlock has been working through case backlogs. He assumes the photos are going to be of some grizzly corpse, so lunch is right out anyway.
He's expecting a peeved text from Sherlock any second, but he doesn't wait to slow down and send a message. He's just a few yards away from the meeting spot near the dog run at any rate. He can already see the back of Sherlock's curly head; he's on a park bench, sitting companionably close to another man with short brown hair. He hears Sherlock's rare, deep baritone laugh as he approaches and it slows John's steps in surprise.
“Afternoon.” John says as he reaches them. He gets the peculiar feeling that he's intruding when Sherlock and the other man look up at him. The stranger appears to be close to Sherlock's age. He has a ready, dimpled smile, and when he stands he's just a bit taller than John, but more slight of build. He has tousled brown hair, black plastic glasses and is wearing a rather posh cashmere v-neck sweater. He extends his hand to John and the handshake is firm.
Sherlock makes the introduction. “Dr. John Watson, Dr. Darin Allard.” Sherlock drawls as if bored and doesn't get up. “Darin is a doctor of botany and biochemistry. He specializes in phytotoxicology .”
“Plant poisons.” Darin simplifies helpfully, “I've heard a lot about you, Dr. Watson and I have started to read your blog. It's a pleasure.”
“Mine I'm sure.”
“I know you two are working on a project, so I'll collect Sophie and be gone.” Darin motions at the run, where a terrier is chasing circles around stumpy Gladstone. “Sherlock, it was nice talking with you again.” After an awkward pause, he suggests, “My talk on cyanogenic glucosides is at 6:00pm at the horticultural center on Thursday.”
“Good luck, I'm sure it will be captivating.” Sherlock dismisses, ”Good afternoon Dr. Allard”.
Darin looks crestfallen, “Ah. Well then...good afternoon Mr. Holmes. Dr. Watson.”
Sherlock's gaze follows the other man closely as he leaves. His eyes rake down his body as he leashes his dog, until Darin looks over his shoulder at them one last time. Caught, Sherlock glances away, suddenly fascinated by his Italian shoes. A slight rose flush spreads across his cheekbones and he stares steadfastly at his footwear. Darin quirks a little smile and walks down the path.
John takes the vacated seat on the bench and waits a minute to make sure Darin is out of earshot.
“To imagine I'd live to see the day that Sherlock Holmes is pulling at the dog park.”
“Oh do shut up.”
John grins. “The cute dog trick is the oldest in the book.”
Sherlock glares daggers at him but his blush is deepening. John is almost giddy.
“He's posh, attractive and is into plant poisons. I hope you invite us to the civil partnership.”
Sherlock huffs. “I don't have relationships, John.”
John smiles. This is just too good. “You could just get a leg over.”
“That's not even funny!” Sherlock looks so traumatized by the idea that John breaks into a fit of giggles until he has tears in his eyes.
John pulls himself together and glances at Sherlock sulking. “Don't even tell me you’re not interested.”
“I find it incredible that you choose this opportunity to become observant. You should save it for a time it would be valuable since it is such a rare phenomenon.”
“Are you going to that lecture? He was asking you to go, you know.”
Sherlock has his arms folded over himself protectively. “No.”
John shakes his head, “Um, why not?”
“It will give him the wrong impression. Even I know that it would be cruel to appear to encourage romantic overtones where none are intended.”
“Mate, that ship sailed when he just caught you looking at his arse.”
Sherlock's eyes go wide. “I...wasn't...”
John finally decides to show mercy. “Look, even an idiot like me can tell you both like each other. Stop overthinking things for once, you berk, you are rushing way ahead. Why don't you just be nice to him and see what happens? Have you ever even been on a date? Muddle through like the rest of us, get to know each other.”
“Kill. Me. Now. Are you about done? Can we please dispense with this nonsense?” Sherlock whines.
John chuckles and lets the matter drop, but he is absolutely thrilled at these turn of events, whatever they are.
#####
I have been remiss. -SH
What?
Thank you. -SH
You didn’t have to help me, or even forgive me, considering my actions two years ago. -SH
Is this Anderson? Did you steal Sherlock’s phone?
John, don’t be obtuse. -SH
Go to bed, it’s late. Mary is threatening to flush my phone in the toilet.
I’m happy things are better.
I love you too, you tosser.