Silence In Belgravia
Silent Fights
Sitting in the back of a cab, on the way back home, John broke the comfortable silence that had fallen around them.
"Okay…" He started, the usual questions in his mind. "The smoking. How did you know?" Rose just looked to Sherlock, also wondering on the answer.
"The evidence was right under your nose, John. As ever, you see but you don't observe." Sherlock told them.
Rose wracked her brains but couldn't find anything that indicated any smokers. "See what?"
The genius put his hand in his coat and pulled something out. "The ashtray."
John just chuckled, as did Rose, remembering the doctor's comment earlier about stealing an ashtray. Sherlock just laughed with them, throwing the ashtray a little in the air so it span before he caught it again, slipping it back into the large, dark coat.
Back in 221B, Rose brought in a cup of tea for John, sipping from a can of coke as she walked. Sherlock had refused the offer of coffee. Taking the hot drink up to Sherlock's room, she saw John sat on the man's bed and heard the suspicious sounds of things being thrown about close by.
"Thanks Rose." John said taking the drink off her as she sat next to him. He took a sip and a few seconds later, he spoke again. Louder this time, so to be heard by the hidden man. "What are you doing?"
"Going into battle, John! I need the right armour!" Sherlock shouted back to them before standing out so they could see. He was wearing his usual black trousers but over his shirt he wore a large high visibility jacket, the bright yellow standing out in the rather dark space. He took a look down at himself, turning a sleeve over before declaring, "No!" and going back to where he was before.
Once again, sitting in the back of a cab, Rose spoke up, putting her thoughts into words. "So, what's the plan?"
"We know her address." Sherlock stated, receiving a sigh from Rose. This will not end well, she thought.
John was a little confused though. "We just ring her doorbell?"
"Exactly." Sherlock said before raising his voice to speak to the cabbie. "Just here please."
"You didn't even change your clothes." John told him, wondering about the wasted time.
Sherlock just replied, "Then it's time to add a splash of colour."
Getting out of the cab, Rose paying the fare, Sherlock lead them a little ways into a deserted and quite narrow street, taking off his scarf as he went. When he got to where he wanted to be, he turned a little, going back the way he came so John stopped in front of him and his back was to the way they had just come from. Rose stood in between them, wary of what Sherlock was now planning.
"Are we here?" John asked, looking around.
"Two streets away, but this will do." Sherlock replied, shifting around a little bit.
"For what?" John asked.
Sherlock just looked to Rose, wanting to teach her another lesson. "Punch me in the face."
She blanked at that, expecting something else - she didn't know what, but certainly not that. "Punch you?"
He frowned though. "Yes. Punch me. In the face. Didn't you hear me?"
"I always hear punch me in the face when you're speaking, but its usually sub context." She replied, still not quite sure of what he was saying.
"It's really simple and you'll have to punch someone at some point. Rather make sure you know you can now, when it doesn't really matter as much." Sherlock said, getting impatient. "Just make a fist and throw it. in the face."
"I'm not going to punch you in the face!" She said defiantly, not wanting to hurt him. Deserves it though, she thought, crossing her arms.
Sherlock just sighed in impatience, looking to John instead. John however was on Rose's side in this and shook his head, holding up his hands. "Oh, no! I'm not gonna punch you either."
"Oh, for god's sake!" Sherlock said before springing forward and punching John square in the jaw. John wasn't expecting that and neither was Rose, so the poor doctor fell to the floor.
"What the hell, Sherlock!" Rose shouted, shooting forward to help John up off the floor. As she did though, John looked over to his friend - who Rose saw was completely ready for what he knew was coming - and punched him in the face; hard.
"John!" Rose shouted, shocked by the pair of them. "What's wrong with you both?"
John had stepped back, shaking his now throbbing hand, trying to dispel the pain. As Sherlock stood back up again though, John turned around. "Thank you, that was-" Sherlock was about to compliment, but he didn't quite get it out as John leapt forward, tackling the man to the ground while punching him in the gut. Sherlock felt the air rush out of him and was a little shocked by it. This isn't the plan, he thought vaguely.
"John!" Rose shouted again, taking a step back to avoid getting caught in the street fight.
As Sherlock tried to get up again, pushing John away, he somehow managed to get into a head lock. A very good one as well as the Consulting Detective had quite a bit of trouble getting out of it; without hurting John. And despite the punch - that wasn't that hard - he didn't want to hurt his friend.
Rose saw the head lock and that John was possibly taking this a little to far. "John, come on. Enough now!"
Sherlock heard this and tried to talk to John too. "I think we're done now, John!"
John heard this. "You've got to remember, Sherlock. I was a soldier. I killed people."
"You were a doctor!" Sherlock shouted at him.
"I had my bad days!" John replied, shouting just as loudly.
Rose however had had enough of this and decided that it was time to intervene. Moving forward, she very carefully - but quickly - wrapped her arms around John's waist. The shock was enough for him to loosen his grip on Sherlock and she kicked her weight back, the pair of them flying back a good way, falling back onto the street, Rose landing on her back, just an inch away from her spine.
John had not been expecting a third party though and his army training kicked in. As they hit the floor, he rolled over - and incidentally off of Rose, having pinned her to the floor when they fell - and pulled back a fist, swinging forward.
He realised as he saw her eyes widen a fraction that his newest attacker was in fact Rose and not actually a real enemy. He was in a street, in London, with his two flat mates and friends. One of which he was moments away from punching in the face...
Rose felt rather than saw John move off her and was about to get up when she saw the fist flying towards her face. Automatically, she brought up her arms to shield her face, the hand at the end of the forefront arm catching Johns fist in her palm, her arms absorbing the high impact.
For a second they both froze, realising what had happened. Sherlock stood to the side, eyes wide at John's fighting instinct and Rose's automatic defence.
"Nice block." Sherlock said, breaking the silence that had fallen around them again, though this time it was far from comfortable. His words snapped Rose and John out of their state and Rose let his fist go, using her arms to push herself to her feet. She noted that when she put any pressure onto her hand - the one that had caught the punch in the first place - shooting pain ran up her arm. Not good, she thought, biting her lip in pain.
John got up and immediately started to apologise. "Rose, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise, I just… oh my god… "
She cut him off though, giving him a reassuring smile. "Don't worry about it, John. It was instinct."
"But I punched you!" He said, still looking horrified.
"Yeah, 'n' I blocked it." She saw he was still worried though. "Relax, no damage done." She paused for a second. "Except to Sherlock."
John looked to his other friend and saw the cut across his cheek. He pulled an unhappy face at the sight of it. "You deserved that, though."
Sherlock just grinned slightly as his doctor friend before bending down to pick up the scarf that he had dropped in the scuffle. "You've got a very good right hook."
John just gave a single, slightly breathless chuckle before looking back to Rose. He sighed. "Let me have a look at that hand."
She knew this was coming though and bit her tongue so as to not show any pain. She brought up her throbbing hand and turned it over, wiggling the fingers a little bit, pain shooting through the little limbs. "See? Fine." John went to take the hand in his though, but she pulled it back. "Its fine, John!" She told him fiercely.
John just sighed, difficult woman! "Tell me if it hurts, I'll give you something for it, okay?"
"It doesn't hurt." Rose replied, but she saw Sherlock raise an eyebrow behind John's back; he had seen her jaw clench tightly, her eyes water ever so slightly. He knew she was lying through he teeth and she knew that he did. She thought to change the subject then. "Are we going to carry on then or just stand here all day?"
"Down this way." Sherlock said, walking off down the street.
Rose followed after him, walking next to him as they went, John catching up a second after.
Sherlock handed his scarf to her. Frowning, she took it - in her left hand, he noticed - and looked up to him, seeing him still looking forward. "Thanks…"
He nodded, knowing she meant more than the scarf. "Put it on."
She did as she was told and noticed her hand was still throbbing, even at the slightest of movements. Taking her bandana from her left hand off, she put it on her right and tied it so the fabric supported the sore hand. At least this way, though the dull ache was always there, she wouldn't forget it was hurt and end up doing more damage to it.
She saw Sherlock take out a white piece of paper from his pocket and sighed, now understanding his lack of scarf. "Really? Again?"
He just smirked at her, hoping that things would go better than the last time he used this disguise.