Demands Of The Job
AN: So yeah… This is probably the last chapter for now, but it will be continuing… Sherlock as an uncle is going to be awesome! And I feel seriously sorry for John and Mary… WHAHAHA! I mentioned I'd started another story, well guess what it is? It is the sequel. (Still untitled)
Sorry it has taken so long to update, life is always busy lately.
As always I still don't own anything but the plot.
Chapter 8
Or
Continuing from Saturday
Saturday morning broke with a shining sun and not a cloud to be seen in the sky. The air was crisp and cool, while the sun warm and bright. The birds were singing, the street performers where setting up for a day of tourists and Saturday shoppers. People in the streets where going about their weekend business in a calm fashion, with nothing in sight that would cause pandemonium. Even the residents of Baker Street, so used to the strange noises and smells from the corner residence were coming out as if to say 'good morning world! What a wonderful day!' This peaceful calm lasted until around lunchtime.
It was at precisely twelve, noon that the front wall of 221B Baker Street blew out, scattering debris everywhere. Screams of horror and fear came from some, while calls to emergency services from others. The Locals made sure no one on the street was hurt and then went on their way. It was normal for this to happen at least once a year. The local bar even had a betting system on it. John had the 27 of June; on the condition he wasn't home when it happened. The familiar holler of 'Sherlock' echoed out onto the frantic public below.
"SHERLOCK! What the heck!? Sherlock? Sherlock? Where are you?"
"Here, nitro glycerine."
"Oh Sherlock, again, seriously? Our insurance premium is going to sky rocket, again, come here and let me have a look at you. MRS HUDSON!? You okay?"
"Yes dearies, I was unpacking in my room. Really Sherlock, what have you got against my walls anyway? I'm not cleaning this up you know!" the landlady not house keeper called back up the stairs.
At this point John was leaning out of the hole, waving to the people outside and giving them a once over from a distance to ensure there were no injured parties. He left the hole in the wall and came over to Sherlock who had stretched out on the couch.
"How did the couch survive that?"
"No idea John"
"Right, well come on then, better start tiding up before the police get here. Tonight is our last therapy session you know. It would be nice to leave on a positive note, not in handcuffs for flattening some poor pedestrian. Why the window though Sherlock, I gotta know, why not the sink?"
"You said to stay away from the bathroom and I figured you'd be mad about the kitchen if I blew up twice in one week. Besides, it was the microwaves fault. It should be stronger then that..."
"Right... the Microwave did it... When Mary and I move in next door, your experiments do not come within 2 metres of the outside front door or your special one, got it?"
"Yes John. Can you look at my hand; it is starting to burn..."
"Chemical burns, lovely, why didn't you say anything sooner? Come on, my medical kit was blown up with the rest of the wall; you'll have to come down to the clinics, no complaints" John added as he helped Sherlock up by the elbow.
"Mrs Hudson, just taking Sherlock to the A & E, back soon, you know the drill with the usual 'guests' yeah?"
"Not a problem boys, never a dull day here... Would have liked a cup of tea before I was back in the swing, but oh well."
The rest of the day went by in a bit of a blur. Sherlock's hand was seen to, the police came around, but Mycroft, ever the watchful big brother intervened; the matter was cleared up as a gas explosion the wall repaired before 6 that night. Even John's medical kit was replaced. Seriously, Mycroft did have his uses. John and Sherlock met up with Mary for a quick bite before their session, Sherlock with his hand wrapped protectively.
Mary didn't ask and the men gave no reasons.
Arriving together at New Scotland Yard the trio headed straight to Lestrade's office to find it empty. They each took their seats and waited for the remaining three, the clock reading 7 pm precisely.
"We're not going to have to do trust exercises again are we Mary?"
"No John, I suspect tonight will just be a chat fest; I was going to suggest we all go to the pub together."
"Pass" Sherlock said sounding rather bored
"Why would I want to waste my precious time in a pub?" He continued
"It's for the comradely and friendship Sherlock, pubs are mutual grounds for many people, it allows people to open up." Mary supplied, non-fussed by his attitude
"I was under the impression that was just once they became inebriated"
"Funny Sherlock, really, behave" John replied strictly
It was 7.15 before any of the others showed up. They looked haggard and tired. Mumbling their apologies for being late and muttering about crooks on the run and chases and the like.
The three Yarders took seats and looked expectantly at Mary, who looked right back for a moment, before realising she was supposed to be doing something.
Clearing her throat and looking at each group member she began.
"Well folks, as...'helpful' as theses sessions have been in improving your teamwork, and I'll admit there were times you almost killed each other, and times you literally saved each other, and me for that matter. All we really need is to get the channels of communication open and flowing. To do this we are taking a field trip. We are going to the pub."
Greg, Sally, Marc and John's face lit up.
"I'll see you at home John"
"No Sherlock, you're coming too." John said sternly
Arriving at the pub around 8pm, the small group found a booth at the back of the noisy and crowded pub. Sherlock, John and Mary noticed, seemed rather uncomfortable in the surrounds, or perhaps he was just unhappy at being forced to come.
Drinks were ordered, and some hot chips with dips. When the drinks came, 5 minutes later, everyone, except Sherlock was talking among them selves. Sherlock was people watching, occasionally pointing out someone to John. Both he and Mary enjoyed the deductions. Marc and Sally saying he most probably knew the people or he was out right wrong. Lestrade just shook his head in disbelief at his employees' attitude. They would never change. That much was clear now. Really the whole idea had been dumb. Leopards cannot change their spots, and people cannot change unless they want to, and even then, it was not easy. After about an hour of sitting around drinking slowly, a live band, playing Celtic music, started up. Some people got up to dance while others seemed content to just sit and listen. The music was lively and fun, but not so noisy as you couldn't talk over it.
Sherlock and Mary were both still nursing their first drinks, while John was on his second and the others on their third. It was then that their conversation got a little stormy.
"So, John, you and Mary eh, the other night, Wombat said something about you getting married, anything you two want to announce?" Sally said slyly.
Becoming rather embarrassed, John fielded the question.
"Well, you see, we hadn't even introduced Mary to Sherlock, and Mary is going to Australia to visit her sister in a couple of weeks, and well, well, I don't know how they found out, I probably don't want to know, but well, I was kind of waiting until later, everyone had met and yeah…. Basically a few weeks after Mary come home."
John had his face and eyes cast down,
"It was supposed to be a surprise..." he trailed off.
"It is alright John, I do understand, really I do, I was not going to ask, I didn't' want to jinx it to be honest" Mary added
Sherlock looked between the two, one his friend, the other, a tolerable person, like Lestrade, or Mrs Hudson, no, Mrs Hudson was important, maybe just Lestrade then.
"Leave them to it guys" Lestrade pipped up in a supporting manner, no one likes being cornered
"Besides, while we do love each other, and we certainly zinged, we have only been together a few months, it's too early to talk marriage"
"Exactly!" John agreed with Mary.
Nothing else was said on the matter and nothing mean was said either, the six of them splitting into two groups. Sherlock, John and Mary struck up a conversation about different sorts of cigarette ash and different fabrics and its uses. John became quiet concerned about the direction of the conversation at one point but they assured him his clothes would not be experiments on again, at least not at any time soon.
John had been consciously watching Sherlock all evening, he seemed to be okay, except that he was slowly becoming more and more curled up within him self and focusing on Mary and John, his hand straying to his forehead every now and then. Sherlock was growing more and more quiet, his input, while still excited at the prospect of a new experiment, lessening.
"You okay there mate?" John asked eventually, resisting the urge to place a hand on Sherlock's shoulder, he knew how the detective loathed being touched,
"Hmm, oh yes, just to much stimulus, to much to take in, its why I avoid places like this, there is too much to see, sensory over load, it hurts, that's all" he sounded so small and meek, so unlike himself that John decided then and there it was time to end the evening for them. Mary sensing his plan of action said she'd catch a cab and have to have a nice evening.
It was then that Anderson, who had had a few to many, noticed their rise to leave.
"Oi! Freak! What'zz wrong, can't hold your booze?"
"I'm not the one slurring Anderson, good evening all, John and I are leaving"
"Oh, poor little private eye, can't holdz hiz booze and hides behind hiz lit'le doggie"
Anderson was laughing loudly now, attracting attention from other patrons. Greg looked ready to skin him alive and Donovan, who was slightly tipsy, giggling behind her hand.
John and Sherlock ignored them and where half way to the exit when Anderson did something that had the most unexpected reaction from Sherlock.
"What, not big words to play with Sherly? What you momma never…" Sherlock cut him off here.
"What about my mother Anderson?" Sherlock asked coldly, turning slowly to come face to face with the drunken man through the now parted pub crowd.
"Hmmm, well Anderson?" he asked
"Errr, Yo momma iz so ztupid youz havez to digz for her IQ!" Anderson took a swig of his drink, but before he had even started his next comment, Sherlock had knocked the glass away and punched him squarely in the face.
He then grabbed the slightly shorter man by the lapels and held him up close to his face,
"Never, never, insult my mother Marc Anthony Anderson, she is one hundred times the human being you could ever hope to be and that much more intelligent too." Sherlock dropped him, Anderson landing on his now weak knees and turned back to John walking forward.
As the pair turned back towards the door, Anderson launched himself at the detective before anyone could react. Mary screamed out a warning, but before anyone else could react, Sherlock in his slowed mental capacity and Anderson were grappling on the bar floor, Sherlock obviously trying to get away form the enraged drunk officer. Other patrons calling 'fight, fight, fight.
It was Greg and John who fought through the crowd and separated them, Greg looking between the two of them.
"He started it" John pointed out quietly to the other man, rather needlessly.
"Yes, well I'm ending it John, get Sherlock out of here, Mary, you get out of here as well" Greg said as he motioned for Sally to assist him with the drunkard.
The police, obviously having been called by the pub management or another patron had arrived, and they were taking in the scene before them, including one of their highest esteemed DI's and some of his team members being a part of it.
Sherlock, John and Mary snuck out past the police and hailed a cab.
"Bloody Anderson" John growled quietly to himself. Mary took his hand, the one not on Sherlock's back, it appeared the man was finding some sort of comfort form the pressure of John's hand there and as such, John was hesitant to remove it.
They dropped Mary off at home first then continued onto Baker St.
Sherlock went straight to his room and went unseen by his flat mate for 3 days, with the exception of the times john left food and tea on his bedside table. Sherlock was silent and his room pitch dark.
Some unknown police showed up on Sherlock's second day of reclusiveness, wanting a statement, John told them no charges were to be made as long as Anderson did the same. They informed him that reports showed Anderson to be the one at fault and everything would be fine.
Greg Lestrade also showed up once for a case, he ended up leaving with a piece of cake and instructions that Sherlock was unavailable until further notice.
When Sherlock did remerge, he resumed taking cases once more, the only noticeable difference after the whole therapy mess was that Mary was around more and that construction noise was coming frequently from next door.
Mary soon left for Australia, and nothing was made of it, no one enquired about her and Sherlock didn't seem to actually notice. John and he continued as always.
Two weeks later Sherlock was receiving plaudits and gifts from various people for whom he has solved cases, along with much unwanted media attention, the turning point being for his recovery of a Turner painting named 'The Reichenbach Falls.