#75: Make your own prompts.
Prompt: Come up with a story to fill in a missing piece of your favorite TV show.
Disclaimer: I don't own BBC's Sherlock or the copyright to Sherlock Holmes. This work is purely fictional and is for entertainment purposes only.
Vatican Cameos
With the American man holding a gun to Sherlock's head he had no choice but to open the safe. He was also sure that there was some sort of backup system, should someone find the combination, and, knowing Adler, it would be something that would kill, or at least injure, the being who tried to get to her photos. John was directly in front of the safe, and therefore would be in danger from the weapon within it. Sherlock silently rewarded himself for thinking ahead before yelling "Vatican Cameos" as he opened the safe and a bullet flew past his head.
"That was close," John sighed as he fell into his chair in 221b Baker Street.
"Too close?" Sherlock asked with a small smile as he leaned back on the couch and steepled his fingers under his chin.
John smiled, Sherlock may have been making fun of him, but the thought was nice. He nodded, even though Sherlock had closed his eyes, and was probably already adding the new information from their last case into his mind palace.
John allowed Sherlock to organize his thoughts for twenty minutes before yawning, stretching, and standing to move to his bedroom, more than ready to have a long night's sleep.
"Night, Sherlock," he said to the man on the couch as he walked past him.
"Vatican Cameos," Sherlock muttered, not bothering to open his eyes or to acknowledge John.
John laughed and shook his head, Sherlock rarely made sense when he was deep in thought. He ruffled his hair, and went upstairs to his room, eager for sleep.
The next day John came down to find Sherlock sitting on the couch, with his laptop opened on his lap. He looked up at John quickly before moaning in frustration and slamming his fingers over the keyboard. John shook his head and went into the kitchen to make a cuppa, he always dealt better with Sherlock's antics after some tea.
"John," Sherlock said when John walked back into the sitting room, not bothering to look up from the laptop.
"Sherlock," John said back to his flatmate, his eyes lighting up, as they always did when Sherlock addressed him.
"Did you think about what I suggested last night?" Sherlock asked, sparing a glance from his computer to look at John.
John furrowed his eyebrows in thought; he didn't remember Sherlock suggesting anything the night before, as all he did was sulk after they had returned home. John was fairly certain that Sherlock had exchanged less than five words with him, after they had entered the flat.
"What, um," John started, with a shake of his head, "What exactly was this suggestion?"
"Vatican Cameos," Sherlock said with a wave of his hand, obviously he found it obvious what his suggestion had been.
John just opened his mouth slightly and stared at Sherlock, his eyebrows staying in the middle of his forehead. He started to wring his left hand, something that had begun to happen when he was confused with Sherlock, no longer bothering him otherwise.
"A codeword, John" Sherlock moaned, with a roll of his eyes. He hated when John was slow, it made him too normal.
"For?" John asked, his tone becoming frustrated, Sherlock needed to stop assuming that everyone was, or should be, as smart as he was.
"Danger!" Sherlock exclaimed, "So you duck, and don't get hurt."
John nodded, seeing Sherlock's point about the need for a codeword. He had almost gotten both of them killed the previous case. When he had yelled for John to duck, as a fist was coming towards his face, the attacker had changed directions and knocked John out despite his change in altitude. Sherlock had also thrown John out of the way of an incoming flying knife (because, John thought, of course the criminal could throw bloody knives). He later said, in the cab on the way back to Baker Street, that he was afraid that they would've thrown another had he yelled duck, and John could've been hurt more by the knife then he was by the fist.
"Do I even want to know why you thought of that particular phrase?" John asked, already sure that he wouldn't as the genius's mind often worked in weird ways.
Sherlock just smiled, not only was he not going to tell John he was also not going to acknowledge that John asked at all.
"We're going to need to practice," Sherlock informed his assistant, "as we can't take any chances that you won't properly react to it."
"How are we going to practice?" John asked.
"You'll see".
For the next month Sherlock would randomly throw anything in his arms' length (which was quite long) at his faithful blogger. Every time he threw something he would scream "Vatican Cameos" and wait for John to duck. For the first few days John forgot to duck quite a few times, getting hit by an apple, a shoe, and a finger in the mortuary. The pathologist, who was in for Molly, gasped when the finger was thrown across the room, and then he threw Sherlock out, saying that it was not safe, nor hygienic, to throw body parts. By the third week John was ducking each time Sherlock screamed "Vatican Cameos", whether he had thrown something or not.
After a month of "practicing" the codeword was finally put into action. Irene Adler, the Woman, had compromising photographs of a member of the royal family and Sherlock and John needed to get it back. Unfortunately, some American CIA agents also wanted something from Miss. Adler so they forced Sherlock to open her safe.
Sherlock brought down the American who had been holding a gun to his head, sparing a glance to John, and praying that the real use of the codeword worked as well as it had in the last practices. After finding an American dead from the bullet next to an absolutely okay John, Sherlock allowed himself to take in a relieved sigh. "Vatican Cameos" had been his best idea, yet, and only because it saved his John.
fin