Disclaimer: I rarely know who owns anything, but I know I don't own Sherlock in any of his incarnations.
Notes: The epilogue that I'm adding at the same time as the last chapter because really, this barely stands on its own.
. . . But our lead story is the shocking discovery by a research team at the Leeds School of Medicine. For literally centuries omegas have been seen as the equivalent of developmentally disabled, suffering from a genetically-based intellectual disability. The new research released by this team unequivocally proves that the heat and pheromone suppressants used with nearly every omega worldwide is the cause of this disability. Among the evidence mounting of this long-term tragedy is a suppressant pill that has been field-tested by a scientist who is currently only known as H.W., who we are informed has declared him or herself to be an omega. We go now to our correspondent in Birmingham for the details.
They were at a crime scene when the news broke, John turning up a radio as the half-heard news caught his attention. It brought all the action at the scene to a halt as the reporter went through the explanation of how the suppressants worked, what they did and the long-term damage caused by them, followed by several stories of omegas who had evaded the system.
Lestrade, for all that Sherlock liked to claim he was an idiot, wasn't one. He stepped close to John, asking, "Hamish Waters?"
"Depends," John said. "What are you going to do about it?"
"Depends," replied the DI. "What do you want me to do about it?"
A small smile drifted over John's face. "Right now, nothing. Maybe when it's accepted I'll tell people, but I don't want to be the face of it. Anyhow, I've got enough going on what with Sherlock's career."
"John! Come here and show Anderson why his analysis of the body is incompetent!"
With a long-suffering grin, John ambled over to the body, snapping on the latex gloves as he went. All this and his brilliant alpha too. Life had never been better.
