Chapter Eight-
Everything from realizing it was the cabbie, to using the GPS to track down Sherlock, to shooting the cabbie, to now standing outside the taped off zone near where they had Sherlock was a blur of adrenaline. Part of John wondered if it even happened or if he had just made it up.
"Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me." John overheard Sherlock complain when Lestrade walked up to him after having done a round of the crime scene.
"Yeah, it's for shock." Lestrade told him as John tried not to draw attention to himself.
"I'm not in shock." Sherlock said.
"Yeah, but some of the guys want to take photographs." Lestrade said.
"So, the shooter. No sign?" Sherlock asked and John had to remind himself to keep breathing.
"Cleared off before we got here." Lestrade said looking over and noticing John just standing there, pretending to look around. "But a guy like that would have had enemies, I suppose. One of them could have been following him, but... we've got nothing to go on."
"Oh, I wouldn't say that." Sherlock said and John's heart jumped, would Sherlock really tell the police it was him?
"Okay. Give me." Lestrade ordered.
"The bullet they just dug out of the wall's from a handgun. A kill shot over that distance, from that kind of weapon. That's a crack shot we're looking for. But not just a marksman, a fighter. His hands couldn't have shaken at all, so clearly he's acclimatized to violence. He didn't fire until I was in immediate danger, though, so strong moral principle. You're looking for a man probably with a history of military service," And then Sherlock was looking at him, realization in his eyes, "and nerves of steel..." When John saw that Sherlock understood he had shot the man he looked away from the Alpha, but with an ear still in the conversation. "Actually, do you know what? Ignore me." John's heart speed up at that, Sherlock was protecting him.
"Sorry?" Lestrade asked.
"Ignore all that. It's just the, er, the shock talking." Sherlock said before heading towards John.
"Where are you going?" Lestrade demanded.
"I just need to talk about the rent." Sherlock said, it was obvious in his voice that he was desperate to get to John.
"I've still got questions." Lestrade said.
"What now? I'm in shock, look, I've got a blanket." Sherlock said showing the Inspector his blanket.
"Sherlock!" Lestrage growled.
"And, I just caught you a serial killer. More or less. May I please go to my John?" Sherlock begged. Lestrade took a deep, calming breath.
"Okay. We'll pull you in tomorrow, off you go." Lestrade said and Sherlock rushed over to John, ducking under the tape, and pulled John into a hug after removing the blanket.
"Erm, Sergeant Donovan has just been explaining everything." John informed Sherlock of his lie. "The two pills. Dreadful business, isn't it? Dreadful." He trailed off at the look Sherlock was giving him just before Sherlock's hands gently took him by the cheeks and his lips touched John's.
"Good shot." Sherlock whispered as he pulled away from the kiss.
"Yes. Yes, must have been. Through that window." John squeaked out.
"Well, you'd know." Sherlock told him with a smirk. "Need to get the powder burns out of your fingers. I don't suppose you'd serve time for this, but let's avoid the court case." Sherlock pecked him once more on the lips. "Are you all right?"
"Yes, of course I'm all right." John told him.
"Well, you have just killed a man." Sherlock said.
"Yes." John said receiving an intense stare from the Alpha. "That's true, isn't it? But he wasn't a very nice man."
"No. No, he wasn't, really, was he?" Sherlock said thoughtfully.
"Frankly a bloody awful cabbie." John said with a smirk causing Sherlock to chuckle.
"That's true, he was a bad cabbie." Sherlock said wrapping an arm around John's waist and began leading him away from the crime scene. "You should have seen the route he took us to get here." He joked and John began to giggle.
"Stop it! We can't giggle, it's a crime scene. Stop it." John said trying to reprimand Sherlock, but his giggling wasn't helping.
"Well, you're the one who shot him." Sherlock said.
"Keep your voice down." John giggled out receiving a disgusted look, either from laughing to Sherlock's arm around him. "Sorry, it's just, erm, nerves, I think."
"Sorry." Sherlock said fight off a smile.
"You were gonna take that damn pill, weren't you?" John accused, knowing he was right. He had seen the look in Sherlock's eyes, seen the trimmer in his hand from the urge to take it.
"Course I wasn't." Sherlock told him and John glared at him. "Biding my time. Knew you'd turn up."
"No, you didn't." John said laughing. "That's how you get your kicks, isn't it? You risk your life to prove you're clever."
"Why would I do that?" Sherlock asked defensively.
"Because you're an idiot." John told him and Sherlock smiled down at him as he held John closer to him.
"Dinner?" Sherlock asked.
"Starving." John said.
"End of Baker Street there's a good Chinese. Stays open till 2:00. You can tell a good Chinese by the bottom third of the door handle." Sherlock informed John who froze when he saw the mysterious caller step out of a familiar black car. From the growl Sherlock was letting out, John was sure he had spotted the man as well.
"Sherlock. That's him, that's the man I was talking to you about." John whispered to Sherlock.
"I know exactly who that is." Sherlock growled before leading John over to the man.
"So... Another case cracked. How very public-spirited." The man said eyeing Sherlock's arm around John's waist. "Though that's never really your motivation, is it?"
"What are you doing here?" Sherlock demanded.
"As ever, I'm concerned about you." The man told Sherlock.
"Yes, I've been hearing about your concern." Sherlock growled.
"Always so aggressive. Did it never occur to you that you and I belong on the same side?" The man asked.
"Oddly enough, no." Sherlock growled.
"We have more in common than you'd like to believe. This petty feud between us is simply childish. People will suffer. And you know how it always upset Mummy." The man said confusing John. Mummy?
"I upset her?" Sherlock asked. "It wasn't me that upset her, Mycroft."
"No. No, wait..." John said as his brain tried to make sense of everything going on."Mummy? Who's Mummy?"
"Mother. Our Mother." Sherlock informed him. "This is my brother, Mycroft. Putting on weight again?"
"Losing it, in fact." Mycroft said with a smirk.
"He's your brother?" John asked.
"Of course he's my brother." Sherlock told him.
"So he's not..." John started.
"Not what?" Sherlock asked looking at him causing John to blush in embarrassment.
"I don't know. Criminal mastermind?" John suggested.
"Close enough." Sherlock said.
"For goodness' sake. I occupy a minor position in the British government." Mycroft scoffed.
"He is the British government, when he's not too busy being the British secret service or the CIA on a freelance basis." Sherlock growled out proving a point. "Good evening, Mycroft. Try not to start a war before I get home, you know what it does for the traffic." Sherlock said before beginning to lead John away only to have John stop him so he could look back at Mycroft.
"So, when you say you're concerned about him, you actually are concerned?" John asked and Sherlock growled in annoyance.
"Yes, of course." Mycroft said honestly.
"I mean, it actually is a childish feud?" John asked looking between the brothers.
"He's always been so resentful." Mycroft said and Sherlock scoffed. "You can imagine the Christmas dinner. I'm sure you'll experience one soon."
"Yeah." John said distractedly before he realized what he had said. "Wait, what? But we just... we're..."
"Come on, John." Sherlock said before practically dragging John away.
"So, dim sum." John said happy to talk about something that was his relationship with Sherlock, what ever this was.
"Mmm! I can always predict the fortune cookies." Sherlock bragged as he hailed a taxi.
"No, you can't." John told him as he followed Sherlock into the taxi
"Almost can." Sherlock corrected pulling John as close to him as her could. "You did get shot, though."
"Sorry?" John asked at the sudden change of subject.
"In Afghanistan. There was an actual wound." Sherlock said wrapping an arm around John's shoulders.
"Oh, Yeah, shoulder." John told him.
"Shoulder! I thought so." Sherlock said.
"No, you didn't." John teased gently bumping against him.
"The left one." Sherlock said taping a finger on the said shoulder, just above the scar.
"Lucky guess." John laughed out.
"I never guess." Sherlock bragged.
"Yes, you do." John told him and noted a wide smile on the Alpha's face. "What are you so happy about?"
"Moriarty." Sherlock said.
"What's Moriarty?" John asked.
"I've absolutely no idea."