PROLOGUE: The Business in Prague
A/N: This is a crossover between the Daughter of Smoke and Bone series (by Laini Taylor) and the T.V. series Sherlock. {If you haven't read DoSaB, go do it, but you don't need to have read it to understand the story.} I do not own either property, or anything you may recognize here. This is not beta'd, brit-picked, or Czech-picked.
It was just another balmy spring day in London, about a month after the Moriarty affair. Sherlock insisted on wearing his Belstaff coat even in the warm weather, and quite honestly John didn't know how Sherlock had not died of heatstroke. Currently, however, he and John were lounging in the sitting room of 221B, as they often did. John was on his laptop blogging the latest case they had solved, a curious one involving a pleasure cruise, and Sherlock was lying on the sofa watching crap telly. In a fit of boredom, Sherlock began flipping channels. He landed on the news, and set down the remote with a resigned grimace. Perhaps there would be something interesting on the news today, a serial killer or particularly juicy murder, but he highly doubted it.
"In an interesting turn of events, a young woman in Prague has allegedly gotten into a fight with a pair of angels, and escaped with the aid of a third. For more information, we turn to Kathy in Prague."
"Thanks, Diane. I'm here with one Kazimir Jankovic,the ex-boyfriend of the alleged angel-fighter. Now, Mr Jankovic, can you tell us what happened last Tuesday night?"
The boyfriend recounted his versions of events, which as far as Sherlock could tell, were almost completely fabricated, when suddenly a pink water balloon descended - as if from the heavens - and burst on his head. Unexpectedly covered in bubble-gum-pink paste, the young man turned beet-red and fled the scene. Muted giggles could be heard from above.
"Er… back to you, Diane." The footage switched back to the anchorwoman, and Sherlock turned off the telly, exasperated that they would even cover such nonsense. The man was obviously a nutter, or drugged at the time of whatever had happened. The next minute, however, Lestrade came bounding up the stairs, and Sherlock and John rushed off into the night, once again engrossed in the hustle and bustle of London's criminal world.