AU – Preslash/slash
How John and Sherlock became a couple. Takes place before (my) Return to Baskerville fic (obviously) and is the first in the Mind the Gap series, but can stand alone as well.
Sherlock Holmes, John Watson et al. are creations of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle(with the modern adaptation this fic was based on being credited to the brilliant minds of Steven Moffatt and Mark Gatiss). I've just had a fiddle with them.
No beta for this chapter so please let me know if you find any outstanding errors. :)
Chapter 4
Lestrade arrived at Sherlock's room just as John was leaving to find the doctor and see about Sherlock's release. "John, hang on. Can you come back in for just a minute? I need to talk to you and Sherlock."
John turned and headed back in to the room. "What is it Greg?"
"You're not going to believe what they found on that case file." Lestrade said as he fell into step behind John entering Sherlock's room.
"Ah, Detective Inspector Lestrade," greeted Sherlock. "Good of you to come." In the short time since John had left him, Sherlock had managed to extract himself from the bed using his IV pole as a crutch, and was now shuffling about the room hunting high and low for the clothes he was wearing when he was admitted.
John would have been furious with the nurse for letting Sherlock out of bed, but he knew exactly what the detective was like when he set his mind to something.
"Sherlock," John said sternly. "Get back in bed. Now. Whatever you're looking for I'll find it. Lestrade has news for us regarding your case."
"My clothes, John. Find my clothes. I want to go home. You can take care of me there. You are a doctor after all, are you not?" Sherlock huffed as he sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, his legs giving out at the last second, no longer able to support his meager weight.
John noticed, of course he did, but did not mention it. Instead he said, "All right Lestrade, what've you got?"
"Castor beans," began Lestrade. "The file was laced with their residue.
"You mean like Ricin?" John said grasping the bed rail for support. "Christ," he whispered.
"Have you run a tox screen on the girl as well?" chimed in Sherlock.
"Girl?" asked John.
"Yes, John. The girl," said Sherlock impatiently, as if everyone should know what he was talking about.
When it was clear that John still didn't follow, Sherlock sighed. "The girl -the one with no fingerprints? The case John…the start of this whole mess."
"Oh, that girl." Realisation finally dawned on John.
"I'll get someone on it straight away," said Lestrade. "I'll talk to you two later," he said leaving the room.
John was pulling at his lip again.
"I can practically hear the gears turning in your head John," Sherlock said sarcastically. "What is it?"
"Sherlock, someone was deliberately trying to kill you."
"Possibly," answered Sherlock.
"But why, was it that they didn't want you to solve the girl's murder?"
"More the cause of it, I should think," replied Sherlock as he began to stand.
"Whoa, wait. Just where do you think you're going?" John grasped a wobbly Sherlock's arms to steady him, causing the pair to come dangerously close to one another – their noses almost touching.
"I told you John, I'm going home. Now help me find my trousers or I'll make my way back to Baker Street as I am, with my bum peaking out for all to see."
John grinned up at Sherlock and thought, He bloody well would too.
"If you two are quite finished flirting," snarked Mycroft Holmes as he strode into the room, "I've managed to get your release, Sherlock. Doctor McMurry gave strict instructions for you to follow once you're home. You're not out of the woods yet, dear brother. You're to wear a mask at all times for the next week at least, and take pure oxygen three times per day. You shall not over exert yourself in any way. No strenuous activity…of any kind." Mycroft turned his eye on John. "I'm sure Doctor Watson can see to it that you follow the regimen Doctor McMurry has prescribed."
John nodded, "Of course," he said as he handed Sherlock his trousers.
"Mycroft, I don't really think all of that is necessary. I'm feeling much better," said Sherlock as he manoeuvred the IV pole around and began putting on his trousers.
"Yes, it's quite necessary. Your immune system has been compromised, brother. You'll also have to go through another round of charcoal I'm afraid. Doctor McMurry wants to make sure you don't have any lingering amounts of the poison in your system."
"And if I refuse?" said Sherlock defiantly.
Mycroft twirled his brolly nonchalantly. "Then here is where you'll stay, dear brother, shackled to the bed if necessary. It's your choice." He turned to leave. "Goodbye, Doctor Watson. Do take great care of my brother, won't you?"
John had a feeling that statement had a double meaning. They always seemed to with Mycroft Holmes.
Xxx
It had only taken a few hours after their return to 221B for Sherlock to start pacing the flat. There still hadn't been any word from Lestrade and Sherlock was getting antsy. John had to do something before Sherlock got too wound up. "Sherlock remember what the doctor said? You mustn't exert yourself. Lestrade will ring us when he's found something. It won't do to worry yourself, would you like some tea?"
"Worry myself? Myself? Oh, my dear Watson. It's not myself I'm worried for." Sherlock continued to pace.
John stepped forward into Sherlock's path to halt the pacing. "Then who?"
Sherlock grabbed both of John's arms, looking him straight in the eye and said, "Why you, of course."
John's breath hitched, "Me? Why would you be worried about me? You're the one that was poisoned."
"Oh, come on John. Don't be so obtuse. Think!" Sherlock said, shaking John slightly.
As John opened his mouth to answer, there was a knock at the door. In one swift move, Sherlock took a step back from John, grabbed his oxygen mask and laid down on the sofa.
Fearing Sherlock had over exerted himself, John moved forward to help him but was waived off by the detective to answer the door instead.
John opened the door. "Yes?" he said to the girl standing there. John thought she looked to be about 19 or 20 years old. "May I help you?"
"Hello, my name is Jennifer Mason," she said. "I'm a messenger for Silver Streak messenger service. I was told to come to this address and answer questions regarding a file that was delivered a few weeks back?"
"I'm sorry, now might not be a good time," said John. "Can you come back, possibly this evening?"
"I'm afraid not, I was only able to get time off now if I switched shifts with another messenger."
John looked back over his shoulder to the sofa where Sherlock was laying and looked to be asleep. He knew Sherlock would be furious if the opportunity to question the girl slipped away, so he opened the door wider and said, "Then please, come in and we'll get started. We'll have to be quiet, my flat mate's a bit under the weather today. Would you like some tea?" John moved to the Kitchen and put the kettle on.
"That would be lovely, ta," said Jennifer removing her coat and scarf and glancing at Sherlock on the sofa.
"How long have you worked for Silver Streak?" said John coming back into the sitting room and motioning for Jennifer to take a seat in Sherlock's chair.
"What's the matter with the bloke on the couch?" she said ignoring John's question.
"Just over exerted himself a bit, I think. He'll be right as rain in a few more days. So?" John pressed on. "How long have you worked for the messenger service?"
"Just a few weeks," said Jennifer seemingly distracted by the slumbering Sherlock. "You're sure he'll be okay? He looks a bit pale if you ask me."
"Well, I wanted to ask you a question about that," said John taking a seat opposite Jennifer in his own chair. "It seems the file you delivered was laced with some very bad poison and that's what's made my flat mate sick."
This got the girl's attention. "Poisons can be deadly," she said matter of fact. "Am I in danger of getting sick?"
"No, I don't think so. You would have noticed right away if you'd been exposed. Do you know who sent the file?"
"I'm afraid not. I just picked it up at an office on Euston and brought it straight here."
The kettle popped off and John rose to attend to the tea. Re-entering the sitting room he was shocked to find the girl hovering over Sherlock.
"Don't disturb him," he said louder than intended, startling Jennifer. "Come away from there, please."
"I don't think he's breathing," she said in a meek voice.
"WHAT?!" John moved forward in a flash and that's when it happened.
Jennifer pulled a syringe from her pocket and made to inject John as he moved forward. At the same moment, Sherlock opened his eyes and bolted up from where he'd been laying. He grabbed Jennifer's wrist and wrenched the syringe from her grasp.
"For you Doctor Watson," said Sherlock as he handed the syringe to John. "You might want to ring Lestrade now. I think we've found Jennifer Mason's killer as well as the person responsible for my condition."
Very good Mr. Holmes," said the girl, her demeanour now completely changed. "I am sorry you suffered so, as I'm sure you're well aware it was never intended for you. I would never want to hurt you. You're magnificent. You need someone by your side who appreciates your talents." She looked at John and said, "Not some pathetic middle aged war vet who can't even follow your train of thought much less give you what you need to excel. It was generous of you Mr. Holmes to take pity on him."
"You can stop there, Miss…?"
"Susan. Susan Upton."
"Yes, well. Miss Upton, you haven't the faintest idea what you are talking about and I'll happily see you jailed for the rest of your life for trying to kill the most amazing man I have ever known."
John pulled his mobile and began dialing Lestrade. There was no way he'd just heard what he thought Sherlock had said.
A/N:
A little bit about Ricin: Ricin is a potent toxin extracted from castor beans. There is a lot of fear and misinformation associated with this poison. A ricin dose the size of a few grains of table salt can kill an adult human. Ricin is poisonous if it is inhaled, eaten, or injected. It can be dissolved in water or weak acid and added to a drink. It is not absorbed through the skin, so simply touching ricin or getting ricin powder in your eyes will not cause poisoning. Although Ricin is a deadly poison if mixed/prepared properly, it's mostly done incorrectly, therefore there has only been one death attributed to Ricin poisoning and it was the assination of Georgi Markov in 1978.