Disclaimer: I do not own anything. A.N. I know this is not really adequate for Halloween, but if you're scared of insects it might give you shivers.
Apidae
Sherlock has never really liked Dr. Who, but he's always suffered through it with relative grace (if pointing out all the plot-holes and straight-out nonsense can be called that). But when they watch The Unicorn and the Wasp he goes pale, and bolts away, muttering something like, "How has Mycroft ever allowed this?"
"Sherlock? Come back, it's not so bad," John calls entreatingly. What has gotten into him now?
"It is! People are not supposed to know that!" the sleuth replies, making no sense.
"What? That alien wasps will murder us all?" his flatmate laughs.
"That we exist!" the detective yells back, upset. An odd, buzzing sound comes from his room.
"Sherlock, please – what are you doing?" the doctor asks, suspicious. He flings his friend's door open…and blinks. Now the Gallifreyan doctor will come for tea, won't he? Because there's a Vespiform sulking on Sherlock's bed…and no detective to be seen.
"Sherlock…are you a Vespiform?" John asks softly. He's trying to understand if he needs to fear for his life. If Donovan's warnings are right after all. But if someone has been reading mysteries right into Sherlock's conscience, he's taken for himself the role of the detective, not the murderer. That says something about his flatmate being a good man…alien…whatever.
"Use your eyes, would you? It's obvious that I'm a bee!"
