DISCLAIMER: I do not own them, I just use them for the temporary satisfaction of my muse. Honestly. As usual, my bank account can still attest to the fact that I never make any money. If I was being paid to write this, it would have obviously happened on screen.
WARNING: SLASH Don't like, don't read. Flames will be used to roast marshmallows and make s'mores.
A/N: So, I'm back... yes... with another new story. I'm sorry for the delays on my other ones, but this was demanding to be written. (I actually just updated 'What It Takes' over in Star Trek: Enterprise.) Originally, this story was going to be a Sherlock/John pairing but that dissolved when I decided that I liked them much better as best friends and that Sherlock/Lestrade was just too good to resist. Anyways, without any further ado, I hope you enjoy your read. Reviews, as always, are greatly appreciated.
Damned If You Do, Damned If You Don't
Chapter One - It Looks Like He's Back
A gunshot echoed through the dark London alleyway. A girl cried out briefly before stumbling and tripping to lay face down on the dank, wet ground. Well this is a right bloody mess I've gotten myself into, the young dark haired woman thought as she lay there, slowly freezing, unable to move and thoroughly unimpressed with her current predicament. Rain drops splashed down all around her as fog obscured the moon and a shadowy figure stole away into the night.
At the same time, in the flat of 221B Baker Street, on the other side of London, it was no the cry of a girl being shot that awoke Dr. John Watson but the piercing wail of a violin. The violin, is a beautiful instrument when played by someone learned in the subject, but not so in the hands of his flatmate, one Sherlock Holmes, the world's only 'consulting detective'. "For God's sake, Sherlock!" the veteran soldier cried as he came into the living room, "It is two in the bloody morning!"
The only reply he got was one last grating note from the violin and a shrug from the tall lanky man as if to say, 'I'm bored, what do you expect?' John sighed, knowing full wellthat he would not get back to sleep that morning. "Would you like some tea then?" he called as he set the kettle to boil on the kitchen stove which was. for once, devoid of any human body parts that Sherlock was prone to using in his experiments.
"You know," Sherlock stated, as usual completely ignoring the question he'd been asked, "I actually have a cousin who plays the violin quite well."
John looked amazed, "You mean to say, that you actually admit to having a family member, or connection, who is probably so far below your level of intellect-"
"No," his best friend cut in, "She is quite at my 'level of intellect' as you say." As his look changed, John wondered for a moment if he had gone too far for once, but his flatmate continued, "In reality, there are some things in which she surpasses me."
John had to stop his jaw from hitting the floor. Remarks like that were rarely, if ever, heard around the great Sherlock Holmes.
"Granted," Sherlock continued in his usual manner, "she is only half a Holmes but after Mummy took her in, she improved on her skills, which were, sufficient to say, quite lacking in some areas. In fact -"
Abruptly, his muse was cut short by a very tired, and slightly dishevelled looking Detective Inspector bursting through the door.
"Where?" Sherlock inquired.
"Murder... Near Green Lane..." Greg Lestrade panted, trying to catch his breath.
"We will meet you there," the consulting detective replied, staring out the window.
Lestrade smiled slightly, giving John a nod good morning which the doctor returned before dashing back out the door, coat fanning out behind him.
As soon as the DI left, Sherlock jumped for his coat and beckoned for his friend to follow him. "He's back, John!"
Anticipation glowed in the sociopath's eyes, subdued only by the memories of that last encounter. Dr. Watson, however, just gave a half hearted smile and followed his flatmate out the door in rather low spirits. He was by no means excited for another encounter with the madman that called himself Moriarty.
Sergeant Sally Donovan stared up at the sky, silently cursing the rain that had become nothing but an incessant freezing shower. Upon seeing her boss approaching, she walked up to the neon yellow barrier tape and held it up for Lestrade to duck under, "Please tell me that you aren't bringing the freak on this one. She's hardly older than a kid," she said, nodding toward the prone body before glancing at the DI.
"I called Sherlock in, Donovan and for the love of God just don't give him any trouble," Lestrade sighed exasperated.
Just as he turned his back on a glowering Sergeant, the dark silhouettes of Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson could be seen approaching the scene. "Freak's here," Donovan called, earning a disgusted grimace from Anderson who'd just stood up and begun walking over from his forensics work.
"Good evening, Sergeant," said Sherlock curtly as the officer scowled at him, "I see you were cleaning Anderson's floors again last night. I wonder if his wife knows they've acquired a new cleaning lady?"
Anderson, who was close enough to hear the remark was silenced by a look from Lestrade.
John, who'd been trailing behind, just walked on ahead to talk with the DI. "So, uhm... what happened exactly?" he asked, glancing at the other man.
"Single gunshot wound to the back, minimal bleeding. It shouldn't have been fatal -" his sentence was cut off by Sherlock.
"It wasn't. She's not dead."
So? What did you think? I hope to get this moving a bit within the next chapter or two. ~has the urge to write a cool chase scene~
But! I want to know what you think might/should happen so just review... please? Also, this is my first Sherlock fanfic, but rest assured it will not be the last XD
Any and all feed back is appreciated.
Lastly, I am looking for a beta. If you are interested, just shoot me a PM ^-^ Thank you!
Ravvyn Requiem