Misguided Signals
Calm down Ruby, you've been in far more stressful situations than this and prevailed magnificently. This is fine, you can handle this.
Though the mantra was mildly comforting, Ruby found it immensely difficult to ignore the pressure of Sherlock's body shoved against her own, imprinting the jagged bricks of the alleyway into her back. If she didn't get a grip, and soon, she wouldn't be able to think straight – and her instincts were telling her that it was very important she put her thinking cap on. Swallowing awkwardly, she opened her eyes, and immediately regretted the action when she was met with Sherlock's mental stare, a gaze which she swore could cut through steel. He was doing his best to communicate something important, something vital.
But what?
Think! You're a detective too! Ok… for some reason, he can't verbally communicate… So, what would the great Sherlock Homes do in this situation? He'd make a ruddy deduction wouldn't he? Look at him, his position, and think of where you are, who's after you, and most importantly – remember how out of character this is for him. Now come up with some answers!
The first possibility was that Sherlock was manually shielding her from some sort of threat which had taken advantage of her leaving the safe-house. But surely his move to pull her hood down dismissed that option. Secondly, he was protecting her from some dangerous person at the end of the alleyway, but if there was someone there, surely they would be running in the opposite direction? And thirdly… dammit! She'd hit a wall. Her gaze flicked over Sherlock's body once more and suddenly, a neat little idea popped into her head. And by neat little idea, she meant a tank blowing apart the other two explanations and replacing them with something extremely stupid. A sigh escaped her lips, whistling slightly through her teeth as she allowed herself a few precious seconds of waiting before she nodded slightly at Sherlock, noting the look of relief in his eyes as she finally understood what he had, for some reason, been unable to communicate through words.
'Make it look realistic.' He murmured, closing his eyes as he waited for the impact, his words only supporting the odd conclusion Ruby had drawn from their situation.
Expelling a deep breath, Ruby's hands slipped up and grabbed the collar of Sherlock's coat, taking note of the rough material beneath her fingertips. Just as she tugged on his lapels and dragged him closer, she felt his hand move from beside her head and slide towards her neck. Silencing any further protest, she leaned up on her toes – and unceremoniously pressed her lips against his.
A series of blinding flashes from the end of the alleyway, a hand closing around her throat and the manner in which Sherlock's body became carved from wood, immediately alerted Ruby to her fatal mistake. Breaking the kiss, she was mortified to find a look of complete bewilderment pulling at Sherlock's features. His eyes blinked rapidly as he tried to process the turn in events and his hand relaxed around her throat so it loosely cupped the naked expanse of flesh. Swallowing painfully, Ruby was overwhelmed by the calamity of her actions, the stupidity of which left her breathless. Obviously Sherlock hadn't been trying to infer that they'd romantically eloped from her safe-house in an amateur effort to lure Leo Shannon from hiding. She'd thought that perhaps the kiss would lead to some sort of jealous outburst from Leo…
God she'd been such a fool and now her cheeks were reddening and her heart was hammering and Sherlock was looking down at her with an unreadable expression and the more she thought about her actions, the more she berated herself. Evaporating into thin air was an alternative Ruby would have gladly exchanged for the consequences of a poorly thought-out plan which had the stamp of a swooning teenage girl all over it. Had she really allowed her stupid fucking feelings to get in the stupid fucking way and turn everything to fucking shit?
'Sh-Sherlock?' Ruby stammered tentatively, wondering if his brain had temporarily shut down in order to accommodate such an overload of irrelevant data. Her mind continued to speed out of control, the internal admonishments only increasing in their severity. After an awkward pause, Sherlock's blinking lost some of its rapidity and his gaze finally focused on the troublesome woman in front of him, though when he spoke, his voice was too loud – as if for the benefit of someone close-by.
'Billy, tell me you weren't responsible for those flashes.' Sherlock said clearly, his gaze never leaving Ruby.
'Who's… Billy?' Ruby whispered; her eyes widening as she considered the possibility that Sherlock might have experienced a nervous breakdown.
'My cameraman.' Sherlock's hand slipped from Ruby's throat and he took a definitive step backwards, his eyes regaining their usual sharpness. A cold wind washed away his temporary warmth from her skin and goosebumps prickled her body in protest at the loss of contact. Ruby chewed the side of her thumb anxiously as she watched Sherlock stalk towards the end of the alleyway. To Ruby's surprise, a lanky youth in a hoodie emerged from the gloom, though her surprise turned to complete horror when she identified the wildly expensive camera in his left hand.
'I did exactly as you asked Mr Holmes, took the picture and as you said it would; it automatically uploaded to John Watson's blog. Mind you, I didn't expect things to be getting so frisky between you and the lovely detective. Nice to meet you at last.' Billy said with a lopsided smile which was lost on Ruby.
'W-What d'you mean, uploaded the picture?' Ruby asked in shock, the cogs in her brain reluctantly turning to provide a shocking understanding 'A picture of where we kissed… No!' Ruby's hand flew to her mouth in shock and her eyes bulged as they landed on the camera in Billy's hand. It took a great deal of will-power to resist the urge to snatch it and hurl it against the rough wall.
'I can delete the post and take another picture, it's no problem.' Billy said; frowning at Sherlock's stiff expression.
'The internet is a black hole for information, especially for images of a scandalous nature. I imagine it's already been shared several hundred times since you uploaded it… taking it down and erasing it is impossible. It's only a matter of time before it reaches the wrong eyes.' Sherlock turned, his eyes blazing as he took a few steps towards Ruby. 'And what, exactly, was the motivation behind that moronic decision?' Sherlock asked in a dangerously quiet voice.
'I-I didn't know what you wanted me to do! You could have told me about your cameraman –' Ruby began, her legs beginning to shake from anxiety and rage.
'And have Billy capture a badly acted picture of us fighting? That's hardly going to convince our foes, is it? But this? Have you any idea of the sheer stupidity of your actions?'
'I'm sorry – but you should have told me…' Ruby's voice trailed away, her anger winning over her worry, blazing a violent trail through her muddled thoughts.
No. Fuck this. You've been through too much shit at this point to be expected to read the invisible ink of Sherlock's "subtle" hints.
'An apology is hardly going to fix this little mess you've created is it?' Sherlock's sigh pumped the bellows on Ruby's temper and before she knew it, she was yelling, her voice bouncing eagerly off the walls of the alleyway.
'You bloody arsehole, I'm fucking burnt out! I was doing my best and I'm so very fucking SORRY if it didn't meet your gross expectations! Why is it that a dickhead like you always needs things to be so fucking clever? You know what my bloody motivation was, Sherlock? I thought you were trying to present the view that we'd eloped together, an act which would inspire jealousy in Leo Shannon and force him to make a mistake! So again, I fucking apologise if it didn't match your brilliant plan and if I have in anyway encumbered the progress of your case, you have my humblest, cock-sucking sympathy! In future, prep your accomplices better or do what you do best; WORK ALONE!' Ruby roared before turning on her heel and marching towards the entrance of the alley, wanting to put as much space between her and that incorrigible man before she did something she might regret. The shame, anger and humiliation burnt through her veins, and she idly wondered if the blush would ever leave her cheeks.
'Ruby, stop!' Sherlock called, and soon she was spun around and held in place by unkind fingers digging into her shoulders. 'Don't you see? We now have no choice but to follow that childish plan of yours.' He said bitterly.
'Get your hands off me.' Ruby snarled, trying and failing to rid herself of Sherlock's firm grip.
'There could be a chance of this plan working, however, it pales in comparison with my elegant solution of a picture of Detective Ruby Smith valiantly defending herself from my attempted sexual assault –'
'WHAT?' Ruby screeched, her attempt at freeing herself from Sherlock's hold slowing as she stared at him with unseeing eyes, comprehension failing to embrace her in its familiar glow. 'B-But you didn't sexually harass me, you don't do that stuff, you're Sherlock Holmes, disinterested in sexual interaction, why would you be trying to get something like that, with me of all people, on camera –'
'Ruby, do shut up.' Sherlock said while effortlessly cutting through her babble. 'Thank you for demonstrating why I had decided against informing you of my plan earlier, I knew the idea was one you wouldn't be comfortable engaging with.' His fingers released their hold on her shoulders when he was certain she wouldn't try to bolt. It wouldn't do for the police manhunt to find her now, not when they needed to clean up this mess.
'So… So you just decided to go ahead, find an amateur Nigel Owens to take a picture of you trying to jump me?' Ruby asked incredulously, her hand pointing at Billy who had decided against joining in the conversation, finding some dull graffiti far more interesting instead. 'Is that why you had your hand on my neck?' Her voice was dangerously quiet as her eyes bore into Sherlock's frustrated gaze. Shaking her head in dismay, she released a heavy sigh before her lips lifted in an evil smile. 'Your hands should have been aiming a little further south if you wanted to produce the impression of a man interested in a member of the opposite sex. Not that you'd have the knowledge of how such proceedings should be pursued–'
'Obviously I wasn't trying to assault you Ruby, my plan was to give the photographic impression of my "lewd" intentions; that was why I had Billy here take such a questionable picture. I had the camera settings in such a way that it automatically uploaded the picture to John's blog where it would be seen by people who know who I am and by default, who you are seeing as you've featured in some of my more recent cases.' Sherlock drew his lips into his mouth when he registered how his words only served to spray oil on Ruby's enflamed temper. Releasing his lips with a slight pop, he launched into a quick explanation, hoping to stopper any more violent outbursts. 'Imagine you're Leo Shannon and the woman whose attention you crave above all else is attacked in a sexual fashion. The urge to play "Knight in Shining Armour" would be irresistible, meaning I would be the primary target.' The anger in Ruby's eyes died slightly as she began to see the straight logic backing what had to be one of Sherlock's most outrageous plans. Taking confidence from the inklings of understanding on Ruby's face, Sherlock ploughed ahead with his explanation. 'Leo Shannon would want to make an example of me, and in the throes of his passionate vengeance, he would make a mistake, one which I would undoubtedly capitalise on…' He sighed heavily, his nostrils flaring in disgust at the loss of such a fine plan. 'And now it's all ruined, shot to pieces… and we're left with your amateur path instead.' Sherlock's voice faded as his hands rose in prayer beneath his chin, his eyes focusing on something far away.
'I suppose those "Shuby" supporters will be celebrating that uploaded picture though.' Billy commented in an offhand way, still studying the graffiti on the alley wall.
'What the fuck is a Shuby?' Ruby demanded, massaging the bridge of her nose and staring at Billy in tired frustration.
'It's the name given to your ship.' Billy said while shrugging, turning and pointing between Sherlock and Ruby.
'Ship?' Sherlock asked with a frown. 'We don't have a ship, why would we? Taxis are far more suitable for our needs while on cases, not to mention the channel is hardly suitable for regular boat-use.'
'It's slang, Mr Holmes. "Ship", means support, and "Shuby" is a compression of your names, Sherlock and Ruby. These supporters, or "shippers" if you will, have been leaving demanding comments on Dr Watson's blog since Ms Smith's introduction in The Thumb Thief, voting for your immediate romantic connection.' Billy finished smugly, hugely enjoying the looks of dumbfounded astonishment which painted his audience's faces.
'So… what you're saying… is that there is a group of people on the internet… who share the opinion that we –' Ruby flapped her hand vaguely in Sherlock's direction, then back to herself '–should be a…a…thing?' She finished in a squeak.
'Got it in one.' Billy said cheerfully, tilting his head as he looked to Sherlock for his opinion. The detective, however, was too concerned with blinking rapidly, a habit of his when he was confronted with a concept which overloaded his mind with useless data. 'Though mind you, there is some fierce competition from the Johnlock, Sherlolly and Shirene shippers, you might want to have a word with your landlady about her involvement with the former group of supporters, Mr Holmes.'
Suddenly, blinking rapidly seemed like the only thing Ruby could do as she fumbled with the mechanics of her comprehension. The fact that there were strangers (apparently headed by Mrs Hudson) who proudly supported a romantic link between Sherlock and John was hilarious, and if the situation had been different, she would have teased the consulting detective to no end about having a crush on his flatmate. It was hard to be light-hearted when there were other members of the internet who wanted Sherlock to have a connection with her… and now, they and the entire world had physical proof that they had, indeed, just engaged in the dubious activity of lip-locking.
Absolutely fucking fabulous.
'If we can sidestep Billy's irrelevant addition to the conversation, we can conclude that if we play our cards right – we might maintain the advantage.' Sherlock mused; finally emerging from his waking coma induced by the words of Billy the junkie.
'Oh for fuck's sake, speak PLAINLY!' Ruby bellowed, trying to wrap her head around Billy's ridiculous input, not to mention the vast expanse of Sherlock's plan, a strategy which stank of insanity. If she hadn't misheard any of his explanations, then it appeared that Sherlock Holmes had been willing to destroy his reputation as a virgin consulting detective for the sake of the case and shoulder the dubious mantle of sexual offender. Apparently, he was now willing to swap said mantle for that of… romantic interest?
Christ, is there any lengths which this mad man won't go to in order to catch a criminal?
'We can't speak here, it's not safe anymore. We need to get back to Bakerstreet… pull your hood up.' Sherlock demanded, his eyes flicking over their surroundings and sending a disapproving glare in Billy's direction. Ruby had the sudden feeling that the reason why Billy knew so much about those odd supporters on the internet was because he was a part of… what had he called it again? A ship? And judging from the continuous smug look on his face and in a day as insane as this one, it wasn't too absurd to draw the conclusion that Billy supported this ridiculous notion of a "Shuby" relationship. It was going to take more than a little bit of time (and a substantial amount of alcohol) for Ruby to accept that this Shuby ship was a "thing", though she silently vowed to google the shit out of the term when she next got her hands on some internet connected device.
'Oi! What about me then?' Billy called from behind them, still holding the camera.
'I think you've done enough damage for one investigation. You'll get what's due to you, starting with that camera; it'll fetch quite a few quid in any technology store.' Sherlock said while nodding at the expensive piece of equipment.
'I better! If I don't get my dues, I'll cut you Sherlock Holmes, I swear it!' Billy's eyes sparkled with malice as he made the threat, one which Sherlock knew he had carried out before.
'Threatening my life in front of a detective? Not your smartest move, Billy.' Sherlock chided.
'Judging from her expression, I don't think she'd mind too much if I carved up your face. And after hearing that daft plan of yours, I might just hand her over my knife and allow her the honour instead.' Billy pointed a long finger at Ruby's flustered face, raising an eyebrow pointedly.
'Inflicting damage on my person in a fight requiring close-contact is highly ambitious of you, Billy. Stay off the skag, I may need you over the next few days.' He sighed heavily, a significant weight pulling at his lean shoulders. 'Time to get back to Bakerstreet, Ruby. I suppose if we're going to follow this elopement strategy, we best be keeping up appearances.' Sherlock said in a tired voice when, to Ruby's astonishment, he took her by the hand and led her dazed body from the alleyway, barely casting about him for the dangers he'd perceived before. Ruby stared in dumbfounded surprise at their intertwined hands, wondering how they'd entered the alley looking for– she didn't even know what, but surely it hadn't been… this.
Sherlock didn't say another word as they emerged onto the main road, maintaining a firm grip on her right hand as he guided Ruby towards Bakerstreet. Before long, they were mounting the steps of 221B and Sherlock pushed the door open, gesturing for Ruby to go in before him. Head still spinning from the incident in the alleyway, Ruby stopped in the hallway and turned just as Sherlock closed the door after him. He glanced at 221A and then the stairs before nodding slowly, reaching a hand up and patting down his hair meticulously, straightening the collar of his coat.
And like a switch, the light in his eyes flickered before it died, returning his gaze to that of coldest steel. He pursed his lips before deciding to take off his coat altogether, folding it over his arm before he coolly observed a detective the country had been informed was missing.
'Well. Time to get this case moving; see how many views that picture has received...' Sherlock mused to himself, stalking by her and mounting the stairs two at a time. A lead balloon slipped into Ruby's stomach as she watched him disappear from view, humiliation spiking her skin in unpleasant tremors. Swallowing awkwardly, she slowly mounted the stairs. Eventually she entered the kitchen, her eyes flicking to the ruined floorboards, marking the place where Sherlock's experiments had crashed to their doom. Flicking the kettle on, she took a few deep breaths trying to understand… to comprehend, the bizarre happenings of the morning.
'Jesus Sherlock, you look angry mate. Everything alright?' Ruby jerked upright at John's concerned voice, suddenly realising that they were not alone in the flat.
How the fuck am I supposed to act normally around John Watson? There's a picture of me snogging Sherlock senseless on his blog, which, judging by the tone of his voice, he is clueless about. I'll just bring in tea… tea makes everything better in these situations… right?
'Out of my chair.' Sherlock snarled.
'Nice to see you too, Sherlock.' An unknown female voice replied, the existence of which caused the hackles to rise on the back of Ruby's neck. So much for acting normally around John, but a complete stranger? She didn't have a chance…
'Oh Christ.' Ruby muttered to herself, her fists clenching and unfurling in desperation as her heart began to pound uncomfortably in her chest.
I misinterpreted Sherlock's signals, now he thinks I'm an idiot for kissing him, I escaped my safe-house; have a search party sponsored by Scotland Yard hunting for me, not to mention a serial killer killing former criminals to grab my attention. Now I'm supposed to act normally around John and his new girlfriend, pretend everything's alright when in reality everything has been so well-fucked over, I'm surprised world is still turning without stumbling.
Straightening her shoulders, Ruby took a deep breath and began making a large pot of tea, stifling the turmoil of her thoughts as she carefully poured out a jug of milk. Batting aside concerns that John's girlfriend might report her to Scotland Yard as not being in the company of a psycho-murderer (though Donovan might have other words to say on the matter), she entered the living room and stopped in her tracks, amazed to see a woman with very short blond hair engaging in a staring contest with Sherlock Holmes. Ruby could understand the Consulting Detective's annoyance, for some reason, John's girlfriend was possessed with the audacity to occupy Sherlock's chair. She was clearly not getting the hint that the king had returned and was demanding the return of his throne.
'Erm, hi.' Ruby interrupted with an awkward clearing of her throat, setting the tea tray down on a nearby table.
'Ruby? Aren't you supposed to be… y'know… missing?' John asked, his eyebrows shooting upwards in surprise.
'Obviously she's not missing as your eyes are not deceiving you. Mary, kindly vacate my chair. There are plenty other places for you to sit.' Sherlock said stiffly while Ruby drew level with him.
'It's just a chair Sherlock, surely you aren't so territorial.' Mary scoffed; her gaze the epitome of patronisation.
'The only other person to have occupied that chair was my ultimate rival. You may have heard of him, he was the criminal mastermind, Jim Moriarty, stole the Crown Jewels, robbed a bank and performed a mass jail break. Simultaneously I might add.' Sherlock said disparagingly. 'The longer you continue pursuing a vendetta to make sure you remain seated in that chair, the more you force me to draw the conclusion that you are in league with my dead rival and your presence is threatening the safety of those I hold most dear. I would advise you against incurring my wrath, Mary Morstan, it would not coincide with your plans to live a long, happy life.' An awkward silence stung the atmosphere and after a pregnant pause, Mary rose from her seat and sidled away from the empty fireplace. After Sherlock had retaken his chair and clasped his hands beneath his chin, Mary turned and smiled wolfishly at Ruby.
'Nice to meet you, the news tells me that you're supposedly a hostage. Must be quite troubling, having to put up with such a rude kidnapper.' She said while nodding at Sherlock, offering her hand which Ruby gladly shook.
'I was kidnapped… in a way. But not by the man who's leaving a bunch of bodies as a sign of his undying admiration, so I've that going for me, at least.'
'I hear you're one of the few people who keep these two sane.' Mary said while indicating both Sherlock and John, the former lost in his own thoughts while the latter pursued a newspaper article.
'Someone has to; otherwise John would have killed Sherlock ages ago.' Ruby said while shrugging.
'Sure it wouldn't have been the other way around?' Mary asked with a tight smile.
'That's what most people think, but unlike the commonwealth, I know that Sherlock would rather commit suicide than see his best friend harmed. Tea?'
'I'd love some.' Ruby smiled at Mary, something about the manner in which she carried herself and the way she handled Sherlock, greeted her with an odd sense of familiarity. She found herself instantly liking this smiling blond and secretly wished for things to work out between John and Mary. This in itself was odd, usually she found John's girlfriends to be grating and troublesome and couldn't wait for the day when John was either dumped (the more likely scenario) or did the dumping (as is what usually happened with the crazy girlfriends).
A sharp ringing cut through the now comfortable silence and Sherlock dug his phone from of his pocket.
'Sherlock Holmes.' He said irritably, though his posture immediately straightened when the caller began speaking. After a minute of his undivided attention, Sherlock passed the mobile to Ruby. 'It's for you.' Sherlock said dismissively, failing to meet Ruby's gaze as he settled into his chair.
'Who is it?' Ruby asked suspiciously.
'Lestrade.' Sherlock responded tartly.
'Oh God, this is about me leaving the safe-house and worrying the entire police force, isn't it? He's going to kill me!' Ruby moaned, cursing her bad decision-making skills.
'Actually, he's inquiring about the photo of you passionately kissing me which has gone viral on the internet.' Sherlock said aloofly, ignoring the stunned look from John as he slowly lowered his paper, his head swivelling between Sherlock and Ruby. 'Lestrade wants to know if it's a fake. I told him you would fill him in on the necessary details seeing as it was your idea.' Ruby stared at the phone in her hand which suddenly felt as heavy as a double decker bus. Resisting the urge to chew her thumb, Ruby tentatively raised the phone to her ear and casually greeted her superior.
'Lestrade? Yeah, it's Smith. Listen, about that photograph of Sherlock and me on the internet…'
Well I hope you all enjoyed that, and yes, I smashed through the fourth wall and dragged you all into my story you Shuby shippers, because, as a mischievous Norse God would claim, I DO WHAT I WANT! So they kissed, but it wasn't part of the plan, Billy is a good amateur cameraman, and Ruby has finally met Mary, even though she has all of Scotland Yard supposedly looking for her. HA.
Hope this satisfied your cravings; it was bloody difficult to write. I feel slightly delirious now that I'm finally posting it!
Again, endless gratitude to those of you who review, favourite and follow this story, as the figures keep climbing each week, I can only marvel at the story which you readers seem interested in reading – and it gives me hope for this fandom, that here is a large group of people who don't read for an unrealistic story which leads straight to smut. This makes me prouder than you could ever know.
Screaming-Sushi gave me an idea which on reflection; seems blatantly obvious but evidently, it went straight over my head. Whoosh! And this idea was for me to re-christen this story, as it is most certainly not regarding the first case anymore. So I've been dabbling around with a few different names, but then I thought to myself, why not let my Shuby shippers choose? You are, after all, the ones who will be looking this story up! So here are the options, leave a review of the title you feel best suits this collection of cases:
1. Detecting the Machine's Heart
2. Escapades in Red
3. Into Battle: Heart against Head
4. Crimson Loyalty
5. Words are a Sleuth's Armour
