Disclaimer: 'Sherlock' belongs to all the important people that you know. Also, credit to Ariane DeVere for her series transcripts that had been extremely helpful.
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"But you're not his friend." Joan jerked back to stare incredulously at the officer. Who does she think she is? "He doesn't have friends. So, who are you?" It was all she could do not to start yelling about a modicum of respect. That would have been counter-productive.
"I'm… I'm nobody. I just met him."
It seemed to suffice as the explanation to Sally Donovan. "Ok, bit of advice then: stay away from that guy." Even if she was trying to be helpful, it served just to irk Joan even further.
"Why?"
"You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it." Well duh, it's his job. He has the right to enjoy it. "He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what?" No, please tell me, ô knowledgeable one. Joan was letting Donovan talk it out, but it didn't stop the snarky part of her to comment. "One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one that put it there." Tell me about prejudices and high expectations.
"Why would he do that?" she asked instead.
"Because he's a psychopath. And psychopaths get bored." What does it make me then? Joan wanted to say, but the sergeant was already leaving, called by her superior. "Stay away from Sherlock Holmes!" And why everyone tries to patronize the hell out of me?
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The hunt for a cab had been unsurprisingly unfruitful. But once it became clear that not one damned driver would stop for her, Joan's mind switched to strange phones shrilly ringing at her passage. Just when I was getting used to routine, mysteries keep coming, she smirked, pulling open the phone box and lifting the phone.
"Hello?"
A deep male voice, with a hint of an upper-class drawl, droned into her ear: "There is a security camera on the building to your left. Do you see it?"
"Isn't it rude to not greet your correspondent?" came the instinctive reply.
"Do you see the camera, Doctor Watson?" continued the voice, unperturbed. Ok, too many people seem to know me these days.
She glanced at the camera nevertheless. There was no harm to that. Yet. "Yeah, I see it."
"Watch."
Ensued a little power-play show with CCTV cameras that left Joan utterly unimpressed. The voice sounded especially smug when the third camera turned away. The spectacle was clearly meant to intimidate her (of course, the little wounded lady-doctor should drop in fear over such technological prowess). Watson decided to play it snarky. "Are you threatening or recruiting me?"
A long pause followed her remark, and she felt that the reaction bewildered her mysterious caller. Finally, a black car stopped near the phone box, with an honest-to-god suit-clad driver getting out and opening a waiting door. "Get in the car, Doctor Watson" purred the voice.
"I don't do blind dates, mate" she informed him, while stifling a laugh. "But you intrigued me. See you soon." She didn't have anything better to do either way, and the car looked nice. Plus, she needed to see the face the mystery-man was making right now.
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The interior of the car was very nice, indeed. The gorgeous brunette in the back seat was thoroughly ignoring her, and Joan knew better than to try and fish for information. The whole set-up reeked of governmental involvement. She thought she even recognized the brand of suits this merry band of kidnappers was wearing. They didn't look aggressive though, it couldn't be very bad. And they clearly hadn't done detailed research on her, or the brunette would have her hand on a weapon constantly.
They were taking strange detours however, and the ride promised to be rather long. Joan tried to prod the waters, just to occupy herself: "Any point in asking where I'm going?"
The woman flashed her a fake smile. "None at all."
"Ok." The rebuttal didn't faze the soldier as much as it was intended to. She just fished out her own phone, and typed a quick text to an unregistered number: "LO59SPD. Undetermined. Update in 2h."
This simple action seemed to concern her overseer, who peeled herself off the BlackBerry and drawled as neutrally as possible: "It would be preferable if you refrained from texting."
Joan returned her a false smile with vengeance. "Sorry, you didn't say anything about cutting all communication."
"I do now." Getting nervous here.
"No problem." She had covered her bases already.