John and Danielle walked a block away from the buildings. They watched as all the policemen pulled up, along with an ambulance.
Danielle sighed. She leaned against the nearby building they were hiding behind. She was still in shock from what'd happened. Shock, yes. That was a good word for it. She wished she had one of those shock blankets.
"Danielle?" John asked. He looked around the block, hoping that maybe-just maybe- someone who had a better grasp on how to handle people in shock outside of a military situation would come by. He touched her shoulder. She jumped back. "Everything alright?"
"No." She answered. She winced. "No I mean- yes. I'm...not dead, but my head is all over the place. Then again, it's usually all over the place but this is different because how long did you have that gun?"
John winced. He had hoped Danielle wouldn't bring that part up. Or any of it. "Since I left the army."
'And that makes it better?!' "They let you take it home?"
"No."
"...oh."
He brought a stolen gun to this...this thing that they were doing. He brought it hours ago, before anything was even this kind of wrong.
A stolen gun, which he used to save Sherlock's life.
And...and now what?
"I think it's been long enough." John suggested.
Danielle nodded. What else could she say? She was definitely going into some kind of shock now.
"Come on then." John slipper his hands into his pockets. He started walking to the police cars.
"J-John?" Danielle called out. John turned around to see Danielle holding out her hand. "Could-could you please just...for a minute?"
He looked down at the extended hand. For a split second, John was worried that Danielle wanted to take the gun from him. But he saw the way she was holding her hand out, palm down. She just wanted to hold his hand.
John accepted the request. Danielle let out a shaking breath when he did so, before bracing herself. She had back on that chipper smile he'd seen, only this one looked much more forced than the others tonight.
"Let's march then."
==NKMHLY==
Danielle walked with John to the police barricade. They could see Sherlock in the distance, an orange blanket wrapped around him.
The sergeant detective, Donovan, spotted them. She walked up to them. Danielle reminded herself to stay cool- that there was no reason she should be flipping out. If she kept cool there would be no trouble.
Course, on TV, this is when something small would happen that made the character jump cartoonishly and in a way that was totally not cool.
Nothing happened though.
Danielle believed she earned a medal for it.
Donovan gave John a knowing look, like she was telling him a secret that only the two of them knew.
Naturally, Danielle was curious.
Donovan walked to them. She kept her narrow glare on John, making sure he saw the message before turning to Danielle. Danielle wondered if Donovan has to work on that look in the mirror or if they taught it in the police academy.
"What happened?" Danielle asked.
"Is he alright?" John asked, pointing with his elbow to Sherlock.
Donovan didn't look off behind her. Her lip twisted down- Danielle thought it annoyance. Or maybe disappointment. "He's fine. A man was shot right in front of him, and he's fine."
A sudden connection came to Danielle. "Would you rather there be a bullet in Sherlock?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest to add emphasis to her glare.
Donovan glared right back. Danielle refused to bow down. "Course not."
"Try looking it." Danielle scolded.
"Sorry. You said a man was shot?" John interrupted the thing before it became a big thing.
The detective glared at Danielle for a beat, going to glare at John. "Yeah. According to the freak, he's our killer. We found the phone in the front seat of his cab."
"Yeah?" Danielle spoke, uncrossing her arms to instead wring at her fingers.
Donovan nodded, though she clearly hadn't wanted to say anything to assure the 'friends' of the 'freak'. "Our killer would make the victims choose between two pills, one poisoned and one not. Apparently he always got them to pick the poisoned one. Or so the freak says."
"Thank you, Sergeant." John nodded his head, cutting off Donovan before she could speak and Danielle before she could scold. "Could we see him?"
She scrunched up her nose at them. She stepped out of their way, though.
John nodded in thanks. He walked beside her. Danielle followed.
They walked towards the ambulance.
"Oh she's a cow." Danielle grumbled under a breath. "A man is dead. And the one witness she has, she's criticizing."
John looked at Danielle, a curious expression on his face. "She told me earlier- before, I mean...she said one day we'd been standing front of a body, and that Sherlock would be the one to put it there." John glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Donovan.
Suddenly the knowing look between John and Donovan made sense. "But Sherlock didn't put him here." Danielle replied, voice soft. 'You did.'
John seemed to know what she whispered in her mind.
They both fought to smile.
They approached a police car, the last before the long line of yellow police tape. It was the last one before the ambulance, where Sherlock sat with an orange blanket draped over him.
"Is he okay?" Danielle whispered to John.
"Yeah. The blanket's for shock." John assured. He'd known a lot about it from his time in Bart's. He'd given a few out in his time in Afghanistan.
Danielle's lips tilted down in confusion. "Is he in shock?"
"...no idea."
Both Danielle and John looked up. They saw Sherlock speaking to Lestrade intensely. Danielle was curious what he was saying. Her neighbour turned to her, and more importantly John. He focused intently at the man to Danielle's left, not looking away even when his eyes widened in realization.
Sherlock glanced at Danielle, when John averted his eyes. Danielle kept his gaze, unsure if she should do anything. Should she wink, to let him know she knew? Or would that be too much? Maybe a head bob too John? Nah, that might get someone's attention. Instead of doing anything Danielle just kept her expression as clear as she could (a relieved smile that was a step away from giddy).
The detective Lestrade was starting to follow Sherlock's line of sight. Sherlock quickly turned the detective back, speaking more. Danielle had to smile at that. The confused look on Lestrade's face was too...too adorable. Not to mention that Sherlock wasn't throwing John (and her, by association) under the bus.
He finished speaking to Lestrade. There had been some heated words. Danielle couldn't hear them over the gentle noises of the London night, but she could tell they were just a few levels below yelling.
The tension in her shoulders let out as Sherlock got closer.
He took the orange blanket off, tossing it to Danielle before climbing below the police tape. She looked at it in confusion. However she had been feeling cold-or maybe some late onset shock-so she wrapped it around her shoulders.
"Um, Sergeant Donovan's just been explaining everything, the two pills." John explained. Sherlock was staring at him, scanning. "Been a dreadful business, hasn't it? Dreadful."
"Good shot." Sherlock complimented.
Danielle tensed. Though not as much as John, Who was trying to use the age old technique of more lying to cover it up. "Yes. Yes, must have been, through that window."
"Well, you'd know." Sherlock complimented again.
"Please don't tell." Danielle pleaded in a low whisper.
Sherlock tilted his head, the beginnings of a smile on his face. He glanced down at John's hand. For a split second, Danielle wondered if he'd deduced which pocket John had hidden the gun before realizing herself that she had no idea where John put it away.
"Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers." Sherlock suggested. "I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case."
John cleared his throat. Danielle let out a relieved breath. She held the blanket tighter to her. It wasn't the softest, but it wasn't the scratchiest. It was nice.
"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked the both of them.
"Yes, of course I'm alright." John replied.
"Huh?" Oh. Yeah. Fine." Danielle answered.
"Well, you have just killed a man." Sherlock glanced at Danielle. "And you watched. Why not tell the police yourself?"
She swallowed. "...because it's not fair." She replied.
There's one less killer off the streets, and if Danielle told anyone then John would get in trouble. John killed a man- in front of her, yes- to save a life. 'Kill a killer, and the number of killers in the world stays the same.' She recalled. But John wasn't a killer. She wasn't sure just who John was yet, but she knew he wasn't a killer. Not like that man was.
"That, and John paid my cab." Danielle added as an afterthought. "Think keeping shut about this makes us square now."
Sherlock smirked.
"Yes, I..." John paused. "That's true, innit?" Then, to Danielle's surprise, he smiled. A sudden surety in his eyes that hadn't been there for hours. "But he wasn't a very nice man."
Sherlock nodded in agreement. "No. No, he wasn't really, was he?"
"And frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John remarked.
Sherlock and Danielle chuckled. Sherlock turned, leading Danielle and John away. "That's true. He was a bad cabbie. Should have seen the route he took us to get here!"
Danielle laughed, covering it up with the shock blanket. John was laughing too.
"Stop! Stop, we can't giggle, it's a crime scene! Stop it!" John scolded, still laughing himself.
Danielle shook her head. "I can't stop it."
"You're the one who shot him." Sherlock reminded. "Don't blame us."
"Keep your voices down!" John warned. Because at that exact moment, they were walking by Sergeant Donovan. "Sorry-it's just, um, nerves, I think."
"I got a shock blanket!" Danielle said as an excuse, but in her heart she was boasting.
"Sorry." Sherlock added, clearly not meaning it and doing it for the sake of argument. The smile was back on his face after they passed Donovan.
John cleared his throat again. Danielle paused in her steps to face him.
"You were gonna take that damned pill, weren't you?" John asked Sherlock.
"Curse he wasn't."
"Course I wasn't." Sherlock answered at the same time. "Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."
Danielle blinked at him. "I believed it right up until you said it. There's no way you knew we were coming. Not a chance."
"It's how you get your kicks, isn't it?" John realized. "You risk your life to prove you're clever."
"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked, not denying it.
"Because you're an idiot." John and Danielle answered.
Sherlock smiled. "Dinner?"
"Starving." John
"Please." Danielle asked, remembering in a rush that she'd left leftovers at their flat. "We barely got to eat at Angelo's."
"End of Baker Street, there's a good Chinese stays open til two." Sherlock informed. They began walking away, listening to Sherlock while imagining the Chinese food. "You can always tell a good Chinese by examining the bottom third of the door handle."
"Yeah?" Danielle asked. "Why? Like, why that spot?"
Before he question could be answer, a car pulled up ahead. A man stepped out.
Danielle froze. Her expression loosened so as she saw Frankie, typing away on her phone.
"Sherlock. That's him." John interjected. "That's the man I was talking to you about."
"Yeah that's him." Danielle nodded. "Mister Poppins. That's Frankie."
"Frankie?" John repeated. "It's Anthea."
"She changed it again?" Danielle asked, sounding a bit pleased. She wondered what other fake names 'Frankie' had at the ready.
"I know exactly who that is." Sherlock replied, cutting off John and Danielle. He stood in just a way that if you didn't know better you'd say he was standing guard.
Mr Poppins walked up to them. "So, another case cracked. How very public spirited...though that's never really your motivation, is it?" His tone was pleasant, his expression flat. He was saying no threats yet Danielle was wondering
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock insisted.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you." Mr Poppins replied.
"Yes, I've been hearing about your 'concern'." Sherlock
"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" Mr Poppins asked.
"Oddly enough, no!" Sherlock argued, sounding a bit...childish?
"We have more in common than you like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish." Mr Poppins assured. "People will suffer...and you know how it always upset Mummy."
Danielle blinked.
John frowned.
"I upset her? Me?" Sherlock countered. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."
"I'm so confused now." Danielle whispered.
"No, no, wait. Mummy? Who's Mummy?" John asked them.
"Mother-our mother." Sherlock explained, still glaring at the umbrella man apparently named Mycroft. "This is my brother, Mycroft."
Danielle dropped her jaw. "You actually have relatives?" Danielle asked, skeptical. He figured if Sherlock had siblings, they'd have killed him by now. Then again, if his siblings were anything like him that would explain how he lived this long.
"Putting on weight again?" Sherlock taunted.
Oh yeah. Proof right there, they were related. No more arguments from Danielle.
"Losing it, in fact." Mycroft corrected proudly.
"I see it now." Danielle admitted. She crossed her arms over her chest, nodding thoughtfully. She'd argued like this with her siblings last Christmas.
"He's your brother?!" John yelped.
"Of course he's my brother." Sherlock replied.
"So he's not-" John stopped himself.
The Holmes brothers looked at John, curious. "Not what?"
Danielle was grateful they weren't looking at her. She pitied John at this moment. "I dunno-criminal mastermind?" John grimaced at the guess.
Sherlock glanced at his brother. "Close enough."
Mycroft rolled his eyes- well more like his entire face- in annoyance. "For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government."
"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British Secret Service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Sherlock corrected. Danielle snorted. Mycroft sighed, the way all elder siblings do when they're just done with their youngers. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home. You know what it does for the traffic."
Sherlock walked away, leaving Danielle and John with his brother.
"Good job." Danielle complimented. "I thought any siblings he had would've killed him by puberty."
Mycroft smiled- but it didn't look like the smile a person gave when thankful. It was the smile someone smiled when they were humoring you. "It was a near thing."
"Ohh I bet." Danielle laughed.
"So, when-when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John stated.
"Yes, of course." Mycroft answered, not sounding at all concerned.
"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?" John asked.
"He's always been so resentful. You can imagine the Christmas dinners." Mycroft pointed out.
Danielle looked over to Sherlock.
"Yeah." She and John answered. They both seemed to realize what Mycroft was saying, then.
"N...no. God, no!" John corrected.
"Nevermind. Not picturing it. No."
"I-I'd better, um..." John stuttered.
"Bye Frankie-Anthea!" Danielle cheered, following after Sherlock.
The woman waved a hand, still texting on the phone.
Danielle pointed a finger at her. "Sticking to the phone. I like it. Not even humoring me with a look up or a smile. That's good. Don't encourage me. It'd go straight to my head."
The woman gave her a half-smile, not looking up from the phone.
"Got a smile." Danielle congratulated herself, turning to walk away. "Good night." She nodded to the both of them.
"Good night, Miss Nolan." Mycroft spoke.
Danielle ran to catch up to Sherlock. "We're gonna hate your brother in a week, aren't we?" She asked him.
Sherlock smiled. "Three days, more likely."
Danielle nodded, appraising Sherlock. "You sound sure of that."
"Completely." Sherlock stated, still smirking.
That was when John caught up with them. The three of them walking together, side by side.
"So: dim sum." John suggested.
"Yes!" Danielle sighed happily.
"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock revealed.
"No you can't."
"I don't believe you." Danielle laughed.
"Almost can." Sherlock corrected. "You did get shot, though."
"Sorry?" John asked.
"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound." Sherlock clarified.
"Oh, yeah. Shoulder." John revealed.
"The shoulder? Really?" Danielle asked. John nodded.
"Shoulder! I thought so." Sherlock hissed beneath his breath.
Danielle laughed. "No you didn't." John stated.
"The left one."
"Lucky guess."
"I never guess."
"You had a fifty-fifty chance of getting that. You totally guessed." Danielle argued.
"Yeah you did." John agreed with Danielle. Only instead of Sherlock pouting like all the other times he'd been corrected tonight, he was smiling. Almost beaming. "What are you so happy about?"
"Moriarty." Sherlock answered.
The name rang a bell for Danielle. A death bell, that she should remember the same way an antelope should remember that when they're watched it means they're about to die. She couldn't quite recall how this name set off a death bell. Or from just where she heard it before.
"What's Moriarty?" John asked.
"Who is he?" Danielle asked.
"I've absolutely no idea." Sherlock answered, still smiling wide. The smile spread to the others, though they were confused on the why this name was making Sherlock smile so wide.
The three of them kept walking, together. They were still hungry, course.
==NKMHLY==
AN: Well here it is. Whooo...this took longer than necessary to write.
Thanks to cleversuperhero-name, HeirxxOfxxMerlin, Petra0suomesta, bordersz, and eM2201 for favoriting
Thanks to cleversuperhero-name, Pastel dumpster, ChemCheminee, alexandriarune, heyhaley17, and eM2201 for following