Cold

A.N.: MoonstarWorld suggested this piece. If any of you have a case for me, please let me know. Enjoy!

John smiled fondly as he approached Baker St. Faceless strangers passed him by, none of them of any sort of note. Or so he thought.

Someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder, gaining his attention. Before he knew what was going on, he felt a stabbing pain in his shoulder. Looking there, he spotted, vaguely, a needle hanging out of his arm. His vision bleared afterward, and he only distantly felt himself being carried away.

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"Oi, Sherlock," Mrs. Hudson's sweet, delicate voice came from the door. "I haven't seen John since yesterday, where's he gone?"

"He's probably at work," Sherlock replied. Beside him, Blackbeard whined and looked up at his master, looking almost as if he'd raised an eyebrow.

"No, I just called his boss, he never clocked in." Sherlock raised an eyebrow and got up from his seat. Throwing off his silk robe, he retreated to his room to change. Two minutes later, he emerged in his usual suit. He put on his coat as he strolled out the door, Blackbeard at his heels.

He consulted with everyone in his homeless network who was on Baker St. Only one claimed to have seen John. She said that a few men had picked him up in a car. Panic clenched at Sherlock's stone-cold heart. He inspected the area thoroughly, but the kidnappers were thorough in taking any sort of evidence they could with them, and too many people had passed by to make any decent deductions as to which car they might've gotten into. Crestfallen, he and Blackbeard clomped back to the flat.

He'd only just walked in the door when the phone rang. He raised another eyebrow. No one called him on his landline. Picking up, his heart sank into his stomach.

"Hello, Mr. Holmes," the thick Russian accent drawled over the phone. "We are the ones who have kidnapped Dr. John Watson. If you wish to see him again, then bring one billion dollars to this address." The ransom address was listed off, as well as the typical instructions: come at this time, come alone, don't think of calling the police, everything you'd expect in a kidnapping.

He went onto the computer and found the address. Sitting down in his favorite chair, he went to his mind palace to map out any known quarters of Russian criminals.

Mrs. Hudson crept in a moment later, watching with bored interest as Sherlock waved his hands in front of his face, over and over again. She had no idea what Sherlock was seeing, but his tea was going cold when he suddenly looked up again, snapping back to reality, and said "Warehouses."

"What about them?" Mrs. Hudson asked, not frightening the man in the least.

"John's been kidnapped by Russians. The ransom drop off was in near Shoreditch park, 27 minutes from here. The Warehouses are right next to it. John will be there," he elaborated, getting up and alerting the dog.

"You're getting him back then?"

"Of course. I'd be lost without my blogger." With that, he and Blackbeard swept out of the room, the latter harnessed up and the former with dark sunglasses. He called for a cab, and the cabbie didn't question what he thought was a service dog and his blind master.

"32 Eagle Wharf Road," Sherlock commanded, smirking inwardly. The cabbie was so thick that he didn't even notice that Blackbeard hadn't acted the way a service dog would in the event of a cab. The cabbie drove off.

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John groaned slightly as he woke up, tied down to a chair with a throbbing headache. He assessed his injuries; a sprained arm, several bruised ribs, and a bloody head wound pounded.

He hadn't had these injuries last time he was awake, they had beaten him while he was asleep. Rage boiled inside him at the thought of such cowardice.

Blearily, he heard his kidnappers' thick accents, calling someone. He barely registered his name and Sherlock's, but he did. Although it hurt, he mustered up enough energy to smirk. These guys were in for it.

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It had taken slightly longer than expected to get to the warehouses, but he finally did. The minute the cab was paid for and out of sight, he unharnessed Blackbeard and hid the harness, he might need it again. He let the two of them in a back door. There was no blood on the floor, so John hadn't been injured when he was dragged by here, meaning any hope of finding him himself were out the window. Thankfully, he'd come prepared.

Pulling John's shirt out of his pocket, he held it out to Blackbeard, who sniffed it before sitting down, letting his master know that he had the scent and was waiting for orders.

"Go find John," he whispered and the dog was off like a shot, dashing over the uncarpeted floors, remarkable silently. The dog stopped at a corner and looked back at the man, waiting for him. Sherlock peeked around the corner, spotting two armed men. He pulled John's gun out of his other pocket and disarmed the men, still pointing the gun at them. Blackbeard then charged and half mauled the poor guys. They got what they deserved for taking his doctor. He contacted Scotland Yard and gave them the address and circumstances of the kidnapping telling them to come down ASAP. He smiled as he eyed Blackbeard licking the bloodied face of his comrade.

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John jolted awake when he felt a sudden weight on his legs. It only took him a moment to realize that Blackbeard had found him. It only took the dog a moment to commence licking away the blood on his face.

"Oh, hey boy, hey," he said, smiling widely, despite the pain it caused.

He felt the ropes around his wrists and arms loosening for being cut, and he immediately began to rub the faithful dog, who continued to lick his face and wag his tail. The police arrived, as did an ambulance, and everything was taken care of. Blackbeard hardly left John's side, as did Sherlock.

A.N.: Not ending with a bang, I'll tell you. I'm sorry if I offended any Russians, people who work in warehouses, or actual warehouses (Which I'd be very surprised to see reading this). If you have an idea for a future case, then please let me know so I can write it. Uploads might be kind of slow, since I'd like to try to be as complex and detailed as possible, in an effort to match the show and the fandom. Thank you for your time, and GOD BLESS!