Backup
Authors: Kessie
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock, Sally, Moran, OCs Sherlock/Sally
Rating: NC17
Warnings: violence, murder, questionable choices and mayhem etc.
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to the BBC, Moffat and Gatiss. No copyright infringement intended.
Summary: Sally Donovan goes on holiday to Paris. At least that´s what her colleagues think she is doing. (technically a prequel to "Teamwork" but you better read that one first)
#
Sherlock Holmes was freezing. The dark alley, which he was currently hiding in, wasn´t inviting at all. Particularly because of the smell of trash cans of the Thai restaurants two houses behind him and the slight odour of piss from drunk men who had been too lazy to find a toilet. And that wasn´t the only filth someone could find here. Though the cold and the rain from the autumn weather made it even worse, as he was nearly drenched now.
Still that wasn´t even the worst problem. That would be that his contact was late- something that annoyed him to no end.
Where was Mycroft getting his people these days? Come to think of it, he hadn´t even received hints to the outer appearance of his contact, which meant he had no idea whom he was expecting.
Another thing he worried about. Not that he wouldn´t know who it was. But maybe Mycroft didn´t give him any hints since he was sending Tally, an agent so incompetent that Sherlock wasn´t even sure how he hadn´t managed to kill himself yet.
No Mycroft wouldn´t, would he? Not this close to the end of it all.
But at least it wouldn´t be the same the other way around, would it? If his contact had no idea what he looked like...
Hell, who knew which idiots Mycroft employed lately. If they couldn´t identify him, it was likely they were also too dumb to find the way into this dark alley.
Shaking his head at himself he tried to push away his thoughts. He sounded pathetic. Maybe not eating and sleeping for the last few days was taking a toll already. That would be something John would probably say about this.
Sherlock however had no time to dwell on it as the sound of steps alerted him only seconds later. Someone was coming. Finally. He was just about to make a remark about the contact being 10 minutes late when he saw the face of said person and stopped in his tracks.
Sally.
Damn it. What the hell was she doing here? Why would Mycroft allow her to come here? If Moran would see her he might get the wrong idea, or rather the right one, that they weren´t actually enemies, and then Sally wouldn´t be safe.
"You´re late Donovan." he grumbled at her as silently as he could, and Sally smiled at him.
"Hello to you, too. There was a weird guy and I had to dodge him first." She announced. "And before you are alarmed, he rather had persistent romantic interest in me not Moriarty interest."
Sherlock simply nodded as he knew that already. She never would have come to the meeting point if the guy would have been a real threat. They couldn´t risk Moran knowing that he was onto him. Sally knew this kind of work long enough to not endanger anyone as she had been doing things like this for years already. She often worked undercover for the police and occasionally for Mycroft.
Stepping closer to him Sally seemed to be looking through him. "How are you anyway?" She asked but Sherlock ignored her. He knew he looked like hell and Sally was reacting to that. Sentiment. Of course.
"What are you doing here?" he asked instead, still rather annoyed.
Even though he couldn´t see her that good in the dark alley he recognized Sally´s movement and knew she was rolling her eyes. "I´m on vacation. Even members of the police do that sometimes, okay? And I have your information right here, so stop being grumpy."
She handed him the stick with the files and caught his arm when he just wanted to turn away and run. Damn woman. He had no time for this.
"Ah no running away just yet." She scolded him. "Why are you being that jumpy anyway? Moran is the only one left isn´t he?" She asked and Sherlock let out a long breath before he answered.
"I want it to be over. Therefore I´m going to act as fast as possible."
With that he shook her hands off his arms.
"And because of that I have no time for ineffable twaddle. See you in London."
This time she didn´t hold him back and only moments later he found himself running towards the metro station.
He wouldn´t have admitted it, but seeing her had shaken him quite a bit, as unbeknownst to a lot of people he would call Sally a friend.
Why had Mycroft sent her? If it was to make sure of his desire to kill the last man of Moriarty´s network, his brother didn't need to do that. He wanted to kill that bastard and be done with it, for once and for all and couldn´t imagine that his wish to do so could be strengthened even an ounce as it was already that strong. Even if it sounded sentimental, he missed home. The town. The people. John especially- hell even Sally, even though he would have never told her that. And now she was here. So close but yet so far away again.
He really needed to be done with it. Not to say he felt run down as well after all this time alone going after Moriarty´s network.
And his damn brother had sent Sally of all people. Well, there were times when he simply couldn't understand Mycroft, he guessed.
At least Sally hadn´t insisted on coming with him, thank god. Moran was his problem to deal with alone.
He didn´t want any company at all for this. Even if she had seen him kill before, many times actually. They had gone after criminals that had fallen through the system together to make sure even these subjects would get what they deserved how many times? He thought back for a moment remembering Mr. Coulson, a murderer who had gotten free due to corruption in the police force and who had been his and Sally´s last statement- yes statement, not victim because these people weren´t victims- before his fall. It had been the 17th time they had acted together in the name of justice.
But this now was different.
#
It hadn´t taken long to locate him. One of Mycroft´s contacts apparently had spotted him in a small, rather dirty and worn down hotel. Now Sherlock was hauled up in an empty flat across the street, where the owners had gone to Maui for two weeks.
It had been easy to deduce with all the mail in front of the already full mailbox and the neighbour telling him that "Sorry, but the Perriers aren´t home, maybe I can give them a message?I have their cell-number".
These people should watch out for burglars he supposed, but for him this was perfect.
Well, he guessed he finally was lucky for once, as Mrs. Hudson would say. Even though he didn´t really believed in it, he welcomed these odds.
It didn´t take long to make out Moran´s room. Being converted from a normal family home, the small hotel wasn´t that big to begin with and from the website he knew that there were only six rooms in total.
And except for the one that Moran currently occupied, only one of them was taken. He had already seen the other resident, a young student, likely here for partying. He shouldn´t be a problem.
And that left only the old couple running the hotel. But they were really old, the man already wearing a hearing aid while the woman had arthritis and couldn´t really walk that fast.
No, not a problem at all. They wouldn´t even worry about Moran suddenly vanishing if everything went according to plan. He would simply leave a note on the desk, telling them that he, Moran, would have had to leave due to a family emergency and voila: everything covered.
Sherlock waited until it was dark to make his move. Once he was sure that the elderly owners had gone to bed, he set out to get into Moran´s room. The student had left for a party an hour earlier and Moran's room was the only room left illuminated.
It was nearly too simple, especially since the room was only on the first floor. As the windows pointed towards the small backyard they were easily accessible through the dustbins right under them.
Really too easy.
In hindsight he probably should have known, or likely been more careful, but at this moment all he wanted was to finish it for once and for all.
Climbing into the small guest room wasn´t too hard. Inside he couldn´t see Moran, but heard the shower running.
Taking out a knife, which he armed himself with, he slowly made his way towards the small bathroom. He could see the door was already slightly ajar. Now if he could be silent enough he probably could...
He didn´t even get as far as the bathroom door. Suddenly there was someone jumping on him from behind and before he could even react he felt something sting at his shoulder. Kicking and trying to get his attacker off, he managed to get the syringe out of himself after a few seconds, but the deed was done: Moran had injected him with something.
Since Sherlock had no idea what exactly had been in the syringe he decided to act fast. Turning around he gathered his wits and attacked Moran head on.
Moran though wasn't impressed and soon Sherlock knew why: he was getting woozier every second. Whatever had been in the syringe, it wasn´t anything good and it probably would be deadly.
Nevertheless he didn't want to give up now. He attacked once more, nearly losing his balance which drew a laugh from Moran.
"Oh Holmes, you are cute. So fierce, even if you have no chance. I would admire that if you weren´t my adversary, you know?"
Trying to stab him with the knife once more, Sherlock failed and watched in horror as the knife was taken from him while he sank to his knees.
"What have you given me?" He rasped, cursing that he even had problems speaking now. His brain and his thoughts seemed to be getting heavier every second, making it harder to think.
"Something fun. Don´t worry, you´ll be able to stay with me the whole time and feel everything I will do to you, I made sure of that. But you won´t be able to move. Doesn´t mean we won´t have lots of fun until you die." Moran gloated and settled down next to Sherlock as he collapsed on the floor.
His muscles were weak and tingling oddly and Sherlock could barely move his arm. He watched in horror as Moran smiled at him, slowly drawing the knife along Sherlock's right cheek and he struggled to keep breathing, which seemed to be hard enough right now.
He knew this was it. The poison in his veins made it impossible to move but he could already feel the small sting which the knife had left at his jugular right now. It was likely only a small drop of blood but it burned like hell and there sure was more to follow.
Still not wanting to resign himself towards this fate he tried moving once more and failed completely.
So this was it.
This was how he was going to die.
Moran was grinning like a child in a candy store, raising the knife, then suddenly he was knocked towards the left. Being unable to move his head Sherlock had no idea what was happening at first. He could feel someone had literally jumped onto them and was fighting Moran, but he had no idea whom it could be.
Suddenly Sally´s head came into view. She was backing away from Moran´s attempts of stabbing her with the knife and Sherlock would have laughed if he could have.
Of course it had to be her! She was taking this backup thing a tad too serious for his liking, but he sure as hell was glad to see her right now.
Still a part of him wanted to shout at her for following him like that. Not that it had been the first time, but he didn´t like her running into danger head on. If she was with him he had to know about it, so that he could react appropriately.
Reacting in any way though wasn´t an option right now, so he could simply watch and wait.
Now if she only would survive...
He could see Moran was backing her into the wall right now, cutting off her escape. If she didn´t find a way to ward off his stabs soon, he would hit her and Sherlock feared that it might be her end. Moran was sure as hell angry right now.
"I should have known it was you bitch." he screamed. "It was too good to be true that there was someone who didn´t kiss this bastard´s feet." He spat at her and Sally´s face scrunched, but she made no noise.
"Very well, I´ll just kill you in front of him. More fun for me." he brawled and nearly hit Sally with the knife.
Sherlock felt himself strangely nauseous at the thought of what was going to happen. Suddenly Sally made the craziest move: She grabbed right into the knife, Moran was aiming at her, which caused him to slice her left arm from nearly the crock of the elbow to the wrist, and with that managed to grab the knife´s handle and twist it off him. Before Moran had even had a chance to react, she raised it and stabbed him directly through the right eye which was the first body part she could reach.
Moran fell to his knees, clearly close to death as the knife had sunk in up to its hilt. Sally took all the strength she had and got up and kicked him into the bathroom. Moran sank to the tiled floor immediately, letting out a strangled sound before he went completely still.
Sally checked on her adversary one more time by kicking him in the chin and then taking his pulse, but then nodded.
"Bloody hell that hurt." She cursed and came towards Sherlock, now cradling her still bleeding arm. "You all right? What has he given you?"
Sherlock nearly laughed at her antics. They were so typical Sally and he couldn´t even tell himself that he wasn´t really glad to see her.
Seeing that he was unable to answer Sally started to look around the room. A few moments later she came back with a small vial with some white opaque residue. "Propofol." She told him and settled down next to him. "I think you are going to be all right. If he wanted you dead you´d be dead already, he just wanted you immobilised. Bastard!" She spat and Sherlock would have nodded if he could have, but choose to only blink his eyes as it was the only option at that moment.
#
When he came to again he was still in the same hotel room. He couldn´t remember falling asleep, but he must have as he was opening his eyes right now. Being able to move slightly at least, he managed to turn on his side and saw that Sally was still sitting next to him, her arm now bandaged with what looked like a makeshift bandage made out of a towel and a shoe lace.
"Welcome back freak." She greeted him and smiled and he couldn´t resist smiling back, even though he was a bit embarrassed as well. Now he knew how the three victims of the Barrack case must have felt. The killer had been one man, Silvio Barrack, who had immobilized his victims with Propofol to take the ultimate revenge on them. Since the victims still could feel everything it really was a bad punishment, as they mostly died from blood-loss, body littered in wounds. Luckily they had found the last victim before Barrack had been able to start cutting him up
Not that one couldn´t kill with Propofol- it was possible- but when it was carefully administered it would only immobilise. Moran probably had known his weight and guessed the dose. It wasn´t that hard.
Sally carefully checked his pulse again and nodded as she came away with a satisfying result. "You´ll be all right." She told him and Sherlock for once was happy that they worked together and therefore she had been with him when they had discovered the victim of the Barrack case.
She knew how to watch out for him since she had been calling the ambulance back then and they had given her some instructions to look out for immediately.
He couldn´t have been in better hands he supposed.
Well unless you counted John. He was a doctor of course.
It took another hour until he was able to move again. Once he was able to do so he assessed the room and found that she had put the dead Moran into the bathtub, while cleaning the blood away already. Luckily the small hallway in front of the room´s bathroom had a stone floor so it wasn´t that hard to hide what had been happening here.
No surprise though if Sherlock thought about what Moran had had in store for him.
"I have a crate in the car so we can transport him. It´s already in the courtyard outside, I just couldn´t get it up here alone." Sally told him and now Sherlock really smiled at her.
"And let me guess, the right chemicals to remove bloodstains and traces as well, right?" he asked even though he knew already and she nodded.
"You are fantastic!" he exclaimed, glad he didn´t have to bring his supply around, while Sally beamed like he had just told her about the second coming.
"It was a compliment, Donovan. I know I don´t give them often but this time it was due." He told her and she snorted in response.
Then they went to work.
About half an hour later Moran was stored away safely in a crate in Sally´s car. She had rented it at a small rental business and had already prepared it for taking cargo like the dead Moran by covering the interior with plastic sheets and the like. The bathroom and the hotel room had been cleaned carefully with Sally´s supplies and all of Moran´s possessions had been secured and stored away in the car as well.
Now he and Sally were walking out of the front door for a change, leaving a note, some money and the room key for the old owners of the hotel.
Apparently Poor Moran´s mum had died suddenly and he had to leave at once. Sally had snorted at this as she knew, due to previous research, that Moran had been an orphan, but Sherlock found it fitting.
#
They drove back to Sherlock´s hideout, a small cottage located half an hour away from the city. Seeing that Sally was tired and he was feeling the still gnawing fatigue in his bones as well - likely due to the anaesthetic- Sherlock asked her to stay, as it seemed to be a logical step.
It was four in the morning anyway so it probably would have looked even more strange if Sally had been wandering about again.
To his surprise Sally agreed, which he attributed to her tiredness. He had started to look around for a blanket so she could sleep on the small couch,when his eyes fell on her bandaged arm. Still having the makeshift bandage on her arm made it clear that she was slowly bleeding through it.
"Let me take a look at your arm first." he ordered and went to get his medical kit. As he came back he could tell Sally was already avoiding him, trying to lie down onto the couch. Just before she could do that, he grabbed her and positioned her in his lap. Putting his arms around her, he could reach the arm and she couldn´t move. The position was a bit awkward but it couldn´t be helped.
Sally sighed. "You can´t just let a lady be, can you? It isn´t that bad. I took a few pills for the pain already. I barely feel it."
"Let me be the judge of that." he told her and removed the towel. Once it was off he barely hid a wince. The arm looked worse than he thought.
"You need stitches." he stated and she groaned. "I can´t do anything like that here, but you will go to a hospital tomorrow, you hear me?"
Sally nodded and he didn´t believe her one bit. Well, maybe he needed to call Mycroft. Sally would be home in two days so even if she refused, his brother could make her go then. Right now he would do what he could so that she wouldn´t get infected and end up with an even bigger scar than she already would have.
It took a few minutes to carefully clean the wound, then apply a compressive bandage. Sally had winced a few times but she had actually stayed put most of the time, which surprised Sherlock.
"There, all set." he said and Sally sighed.
"Why does it hurt more now?" She complained and Sherlock rolled his eyes, even though he could tell she was thankful.
"Stop being a child." he scolded her and Sally turned her head towards his again to give him one of her "Are you kidding me"- glares. Sherlock of course glared back and a soon they were both laughing.
Who in the end had initiated it he couldn´t tell or he might even have deleted it on purpose, but only seconds later they were kissing. Sherlock later attributed it to their tiredness, the direness of the situation and lots of other things, but fact was that at this moment he didn´t want to stop.
And so he didn´t.
Instead he started to explore Sally´s mouth with his tongue. Something which he had hated with the sexual partners he had before but now it felt appropriate although he didn´t know why. It was as if that big brain of his had taken a time out and his bodily needs were taking over instead. Normally he wouldn't have let them, but after today and the extreme situation he had been in, he decided to give in. After all, he knew that studies said, that if you suppressed the body´s needs at all times, you might wind up hurting yourself and damaging your psyche.
So he guessed what he was doing was okay for now. It wasn´t as if anyone except Sally would know about this anyway so he could always deny that it happened.
Sally seemed to enjoy herself as well as she was kissing him quite eagerly now. Her hands roamed under his T-shirt, touching, stroking, as she took a hold of the fabric and dragged it over his head. She grinned at him, fingers gracefully tracing a new scar he had gotten from one of Moriarty´s lackeys about a year ago. Before she could even dare and ask him what had happened he took over completely and kissed her again, pressing her into the couch cushions.
All felt like a blur after that. He was kissing her again, biting her neck, while slowly opening her jeans to get them off her. When he had gotten her T-shirt off her as well, he stopped for a second, got up and held his hand out to Sally.
"Bed." He more commanded then asked and Sally took his hand and let herself be led away. Soon they found themselves in the small bedroom of the cottage. Taking care of his own trousers and shorts he all but threw Sally onto the bed. She was only wearing underwear now and Sherlock found he quite liked the sight. Another body part of his seemed to enjoy it as well, which surprised him a bit, as he normally needed manual stimulation.
But as it was, his body was more than up for it and therefore he didn't waste a second and joined Sally on the bed. He marvelled at how smooth her skin felt even when he only touched her through his lips, kissing down her body. He found he even enjoyed the slightly salty taste of her skin and she seemed to enjoy what he was doing, too, by the sounds that she made. Taking off the last of their clothes they kissed again, and Sally wasn´t idle as her hands went down his body and she took him in hand. Moving slowly up and down, her hands sent tingles down his body unlike anything Sherlock ever experienced before. It was a weird feeling, but he found that he had no time to contemplate this new experience as Sally gently pressed him into the sheets before lowering herself down on his cock.
A groan escaped him and Sally grinned at that, rising again and therefore establishing a slow, tortuous rhythm. He let her do that for a few moments until he had enough and turned the tides. He flipped her over and thrusted harder now, which made her giggle at first. But then she didn´t seem to object as she was meeting the thrusts and he couldn´t hide a smirk as she moaned deeply. It seemed like he had won the battle as she was completely moving with him now and he let himself enjoy the wonderful softness of her body. Hell, he was even enjoying the little sounds she was making, something which he never had really put any importance to when he was concluding his studies of sexuality in University. But now he loved them as he was the cause for them. Kissing her again, his left hand travelled down her body, slowly rubbing her clit. Sally´s eyes went wide at this for a second before she started breathing harder, trembling and it didn´t take a minute to bring her over the edge. Hearing her moan "Sherlock!" was strangely exciting and to his surprise he followed her into orgasm only a moment later.
Out of breath Sally grinned at him as they laid back into the pillows. "Fuck, Sherlock." She huffed, clearly satisfied and Sherlock couldn´t help but smirk at this.
It would have been perfectly reasonable to throw her out of the bed, but something was holding him back. He wasn´t sure what on earth compelled him to take her back into his arms again and put the sheets over them but luckily Sally didn´t object.
#
While Sally had fallen asleep instantly Sherlock lay awake, his thoughts still running through his head.
It was weird. Anthea had told him that sex would be better with people he at least liked or felt some sentiment for, when she had found out about his experiments on sexual human nature. But to him that had felt irrelevant. He had conducted his experiments when he was in University- with both genders to make sure he was covering all the factors- but whatever he tried, sex wasn´t that appealing to him. Most of the time the foreplay bored him and the actual orgasm lasted far too short to make it really worthwhile.
Anthea said it wasn´t the sex per se, it was the people whom he had it with. Sherlock had just snorted at this. It had been a typical sentimental women´s thought.
And yet...
With Sally now it had been better. It probably was because his feelings were so confused with seeing her and finally killing Moran, which meant he would be going home soon, but maybe he needed to explore that further. John might even be an adequate person to do it with if he wanted to participate. He was searching for a partner anyway and his blogger wouldn´t be as sentimental as Sally would probably be. Men were often in relationships just for the sex anyway.
Even better, it would get rid of John's annoying dates with his girlfriends, which were always a waste of time, time which would be better used for cases and him.
Nevertheless he would make sure he didn´t turn into one of those sentimental fools who only lived for another person, only to be disappointed and enslaved by them. No, he would give his body what he needed from time to time, but the work would still be the most important thing in his life.
After all, he had a responsibility as he had been given such a sharp mind and intellect. He shouldn´t waste this on trivialities like amorous relationships and such.
Tucking the blanket a bit higher, he accidentally nudged Sally, who in turn even cuddled closer to him. Her head was resting on his shoulder now, while her arm was encircling his upper body. Normally he would have felt trapped by this closeness and he had always made sure his partners left immediately after the act, but this was different. He found he quite enjoyed Sally´s warmth, and the quiet, steady sound of her breath while he could feel her heartbeat near his ribs.
Sentimental fool. That was what he was at that very moment, and yet he found he didn´t care. He would allow himself this for a little while. Just because he knew that the brain sometimes needed such moments to make sure it didn´t go crazy. And after the last three years he felt that his brain had earned this, even if it was just a bunch of chemicals running amok in his system.
It would be just this once anyway, he thought and finally fell asleep as well.
In the morning both of them acted like nothing ever happened. To his surprise Sherlock had woken up alone as Sally was already in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.
"You´re eating today." She told him as he entered the room and he could tell there was no room for discussion. When she had finished preparing the eggs and the toast she must have found in one of the cupboards, she set one plate in front of him and looked at him expectantly.
Sherlock smiled at that and started to eat and for once he actually enjoyed it. Moran´s death was a really big weight lifted off his shoulders, which meant he could start taking care of his body now.
Sally was still watching him for a while before she started on her own plate. He feared for a second she would want to talk about their night, but luckily she seemed to have another thing on her mind instead. "I´m glad that it´ll be over soon. I´ve missed you, you know? And yes I know you´ll huff about the sentiment but it´s true. London is not the same without you. And I hate to lie constantly. John needs you. And the Yard as well, of course. I´m trying but I´m not as quick with the cases as you are."
As Sherlock didn't answer anything she laughed slightly then grew serious again. "Sorry to go all mushy on you, won´t happen again. You have everything to take care of the body?"
Sherlock nodded. "Of course."
"Yeah, I should have known. Well, I'll leave you to that after breakfast. I have two more days in Paris and need to take lots of photos and buy souvenirs for everyone."
Sherlock nodded at that, finishing off the rest of his eggs while Sally was already getting up to wash her plate. After breakfast it took about 20 minutes until they had all of Moran's things and the body itself, out of Sally´s rental car.
Sherlock had actually been impressed how careful and prepared she had been with making sure no traces could be found, but he never would have said anything. It shouldn´t have been that surprising anyhow, as they had killed together many times now.
He knew she had gotten good at this, didn´t he? And yet here he was, all surprised.
As it was finally time to say goodbye Sally smiled at him and gave him a short hug. Sherlock of course hadn´t reacted to it but she didn´t seem to mind. "Don´t look at me like that." She scolded him. "I know I´m sentimental but I earned that damn hug, didn´t I? Anyway, take care of yourself, will you? And hurry. London´s missing you!"
Even though it felt a bit weird to see her go, Sherlock remained stoic. He couldn´t let his emotions get through again. Last night had been more than enough, thank you very much. So he simply watched with a neutral face as Sally went over to her car. After all, it wasn´t as if he could tell her to give his love to John and everyone else, although right at this very moment he nearly wanted to.
Of course it wouldn´t have been of any use as most of the people thought he was dead. All except for Sally. And Mycroft. And it wasn´t as if he couldn´t tell Mycroft himself, if he ever wanted to do that.
"Goodbye Sally." He told her and she bit her lip for second, contemplating, before speaking again as well.
"Goodbye Sherlock."
Opening the door to the drivers seat she turned around once again and looked at him directly. "Oh and Sherlock?"
"Yes?"
"Just remember Sherlock, I´m your backup." And with that Sally Donovan was gone.
Sherlock simply smiled, watching the car drive away.
Backup indeed.
The End
So that´s it. If you want more of this universe let me know. I have some ideas already but poking me will get me to write them.