Magic One Shots (Sherlock BBC Fic)
AN – this is basically a dumping point for all the one shot cracktastic stuff that the magic verse threw up but didn't fit into the two fics. Also, it's an excuse to torture Mycroft.
Warning – slash, established relationship. This holds for all the chapters.
Disclaimer – characters and settings as depicted in BBC series (or any other established setting) are not mine. No money being made. Plot is mine.
Devoted Pets 3
AN - set immediately after 'Playing With Fire'
Geoff went back to the crime scene, unable to stay at Baker Street to keep Sherlock in one piece. He hoped he'd never witness another argument like that again – John had been just as devastated as Sherlock but was more accustomed to functioning when in the grip of high emotions. He'd check on Sherlock in the morning and see what he could do to help him find John.
Donovan was standing on the edge of the space where Moriarty's body rested, looking rather pensive. Geoff noticed the tang of magic in the air – specifically the tang of John's magic – and wondered if that was what was unsettling her. Anderson was walking around the body carefully, taking pictures and speaking in a clipped voice to his team, directing the collection of evidence and samples. The man was a cheater and a pain in the arse, but he'd certainly lifted his game in the last few years, mostly as a result of Sherlock's little barbs and attacks. That was the main reason that Geoff hadn't attempted to curb Sherlock when he berated the forensic scientist – professional pride could be useful, and wounded professional pride was a great motivator.
Geoff moved carefully into the room, aware of eyes on him as he approached the body of London's greatest criminal. There was a gun on the far side of the room, which was being documented closely before collection, and Geoff was certain that it would prove to be the murder weapon.
"Any surprises?" he asked Anderson, squatting to look at the man that had so terrified Sherlock. In death he seemed small and oddly powerless.
"Not so far. He was shot – from the position of the body it appears he was being restrained while the gun was pointed at him. No fibres or anything on his clothing or the surrounding space that indicates who his attackers were, so it looks as if they were careful… possibly professionals," Anderson grunted as he got down to Lestrade's level, "If you look closely you can see scars from plastic surgery – probably as a result of injuries incurred at the pool that pest Holmes blew up last year."
"Mmm," Geoff nodded, "Well, take your time. I don't want anything missed."
He got up and walked back to Donovan, who was directing the officers outside to maintain the media cordon. How they'd gotten hold of the story already was beyond Geoff – he really hoped it wasn't because there was a snitch in his team.
"I want this scene kept secure, Donovan," Geoff instructed her firmly, "I'm going to walk the perimeter outside, see if I can get a feel for where the perpetrators entered or exited."
And perhaps make sure that John hadn't left behind anything that would identify him, though Geoff was fairly certain he hadn't.
The building was covered in graffiti and bill posters, but all the doors and windows were intact. There was the main entrance and the loading bay, which were unlocked and hanging open in the wind, but the SOCO's were already documenting those. Once more, Geoff felt there were eyes on him as he moved about the perimeter, but when he glanced around he couldn't spot anyone. There was a Pet nearby – one that seemed to be interested in saying hello at least.
A fleeting shadow marked a wall and there was a sudden brush of air against his leg. Geoff grinned and held his palm flat to the ground, standing still for a moment. Fur brushed his palm lightly, although there was nothing to be seen and he thought there was a distinct rumble which most people would put down to traffic or something.
"Hello," he muttered and tensed as Donovan shouted from the head of the alley way. In a flash the presence was gone.
"Boss! We've got someone here to see you!"
Geoff sighed and jogged towards her, waving the radio he held in his hand. It was behaviour like this – and the way she was carrying on with Anderson – that was keeping her career back.
"You could have called me on the radio, Sergent," Geoff chided her, "We're professionals – there's no need to shout at each other."
"He insisted on not using the radio – some toff from the Home Office," Sally's face took a distinctly bitter cast. They'd all had cases pulled out from under them by the Home Office in the past – it never got any easier to swallow. Geoff sighed and followed his sergeant to the rear of the crime scene, getting into the black non-descript car that positively screamed for attention.
As he settled into the leather seat, there was a distinct brush around his shoulders, which cheered him up. It looked like the Pet, which he was guessing had been attracted by the magic at the crime scene, had decided to stick with him for a while. Then he got a look at the man sitting in the car and his heart sank. He began to wonder if Sally had misheard the word 'Holmes'. Maybe it was the curly hair cut short and ruthlessly contained, or maybe it was the way he looked down his nose at Geoff – something that Sherlock had not done in a few months now – but Geoff really didn't like Sherlock's older brother.
"Mr Holmes?" Geoff enjoyed the slightly surprised flicker in the other man's eyes and crossed his legs, "You wanted to see me?"
"Is Moriarty dead?" Mr Holmes asked, though he didn't bother to acknowledge Geoff's greeting – such things were probably beneath him or something.
"Yes, John did a thorough job of it," Geoff nodded and couldn't resist adding the next part, "He should be in the clear – there is very little physically evidence left in there apart from the dead body itself and the murder weapon."
Not that Mycroft Holmes – really what had their parents been thinking to saddle their children with such names – cared if John Watson was done for murder. He barely tolerated the man's presence in Sherlock's life. Just as he clearly had no time for Detective Inspectors who worked closely with his brother either if his tone and expression were anything to go by.
"Then I shall seek Dr Watson out on Sherlock's behalf. He's beside himself. I wonder that you could leave him when he so obviously needed supervision," Mr Holmes sneered and there was a warning growl from behind Geoff. The other man looked startled and Geoff pretended not to have noticed. He knew how much Mr Holmes hated magic and all its trappings.
"I'd have gone to check on him," Geoff replied calmly, "Sometimes its best to give Sherlock his space."
He'd learnt that the hard way – and it was less true since John Watson had come on the scene. Mr Holmes looked vastly unimpressed and unconvinced by Geoff's hard won knowledge, but he didn't let it put him off. After all, he almost never saw the man and had no interest in getting to know Sherlock Holmes' older brother. The younger one was enough to be going on with, thanks.
"I'll get back to work, then," Geoff stated and let himself out of the car, pausing until he felt the Pet in there brush his leg. He watched the car drive away and then turned back to the scene, making a mental note to text the inhabitants of Baker Street before dropping by tomorrow.
"Come on, then," Geoff muttered to thin air and headed into the building.
End (for now…)
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