fic: 'Stretching' Chapter 4

[ariadne_chan]

Title: Stretching
Author: ariadnechan
Characters John/Sherlock, John/OCS; Irene/Moriarty, Irene/Kate, Irene/OC, Mycroft/OC, Mycroft/ Lestrade, Elsie(OC)/Holmeses, Moriarty/Elsie Holmes and Sherlock Holmes one sided, Moriarty/Sebastian Moran, Moriarty/OCs.

Fandom: Sherlock BBC fusion with Vampire: the Masquerade; some Bram Stoker’s Dracula; and my own vampire world.
Rating fic: R/ Chapter: PG-13
Disclaimers: Most of this is not mine. Conan Doyle, Mark Gatiss, Steven Moffat, Wizard of the Coast and Bram Stoker contributed a lot. I just put it in a shaker with my love and some of my own vampire creation and voila!

Betas: My wonderful and fabulous friends mojoflower and mildred_bobbin You are awesome and I love you both!

Summary for the Fic: The Holmes family had being hunting the rogue vampire, Moriarty, for centuries. Little by little he had been taking the world into his web but now the
Vampire Council has sent "The Sword and The Healer" to resolve the situation. Meanwhile, London was rearranging itself to receive a new wild card, Sherlock Holmes.

Summary for the Chapter: John get to know more about Sherlock, his world and how deep the rabbit hole goes in the gray of his eyes.


Chapter four


'Of Domesticity, Invasions and Clues...'


London, late 2009, Baker Street, 221B



They laughed in the cab all the way back to 221B. When upstairs, John set himself to making tea, while working on the new identity he would reveal to Sherlock.



Sherlock went to refresh himself and then he sat and started to rummage through the diary. John glanced at him while looking for mugs and teaspoons. How someone could look so sensual with those long fingers and luxurious little curls just sitting there reading the paper, John had no clue. He was taken out of his reverie when the water was ready.


"How do you like your tea?" John asked, trying to be casual about it.


"Two sugars and milk, please." Of course his voice must be pure sex too.


John decided to take him some chocolate biscuits and honey, because Sherlock ate too little. And he sat at his side on the sofa.


"So, you are a consulting detective and hunter too, then?” said John in a soft voice sipping his tea, taking the initiative.


"In a way. I'm the only one in the world, I invented the job. I was raised in one of the oldest and most powerful lines of hunters in England and of course I’ve been fully trained since childhood. But it is so dull, the idea of hunting vampires or doing research about vampires and other Mirror creatures, John. Mycroft wanted me to join the Hunter Association's bureaucracy just like he did, and that was worse. My elder brother Sherrinford is a hunter and he has lived with my uncle, Brian Holmes since his twenties." Sherlock really seemed ill with the mere idea of being a hunter, and for John it was harder and harder to really listen to him and not get lost in the mercurial eyes which were drilling into his.


"I've loved criminology and puzzles since childhood, for which I have been ostracized by members of my own family. All except for Mummy, and Mycroft, who always thought he could convince me otherwise. I finally wound up studying chemistry and biology in Cambridge but I never finished it and did several credits that interested me. Finally I made a career for myself as a consultant. So when the Yard is out of their depth, which is always, they call me; and if it is interesting I help to resolve it for them." John couldn't keep himself from smiling at that.


“If the Hunter Association is out of its depth which is also often, they consult me and I see if it piques my interest enough to help." Sherlock talked almost like this was rather dull; but nothing about Sherlock was dull, and having to guard a reluctant but trained hunter was not bad considering the dangers they will be facing.

"I think that is a really interesting choice of career." John's eyes glittered with excitement.


Sherlock looked at John, somewhat surprised. "Do you think so? Then you are the first. Now John, tell me the truth. What did you see back at Afghanistan? What are you really?"


Those eyes would be the death of John for sure, he really wanted to take him now, pin him to his seat, kiss him fiercely and finally bite him. But he smiled charmingly instead.


"In the war you see too many things Sherlock. As a doctor and as a soldier, I had to tend wounds that were not made by humans, and care for wounded that were not very human either. In the end, you learn to forget about labels and to think more along the lines of people, enemies and allies, good and evil." Sherlock didn't need to know all the truth.


Sherlock was looking at him, fascinated, and gods, this did not help with his growing need to take him. He looked so beautiful, with his eyes filled with interest and his pupils so big in that grey canvas.


"So yes, Sherlock I can recognise a shapeshifter when I see one, and I saw my quota of vampires and some other things, things ordinary people don't believe exist on the earth." John looked at him scanningthe surface of Sherlock’s thoughts. He only saw interest there.


A big smirk crossed Sherlock’s face as he was deeply satisfied with this half truth. John was as well and also very fascinated by the human.


"I knew it, then John, how about you tell me about the woman, for real this time?"


John sighed but with a little smile in his eyes. "She was a werewolf, that was exactly what she was carving in the floor as a warning to her kind. And she was poisoned with silver. It was a murder."


"John you are brilliant! Yes, she was a werewolf who disguised herself as a human, occultism fanatic for her work as a journalist on the subject, very clever woman, really refreshing. And the pill had silver and poison sure enough, making the werewolf incapable of metabolizing the poison and choking the victim at the same time. The murderer is also a clever one, which make all this exercise interesting.” Sherlock was smiling at John with all his being, his eyes shining, John was captivated.


“About you, John, I would love to hear your stories, when you have time to tell me, your experience in the field treating shapeshifters especially. But now we will concentrate on the journal." Sherlock dismissed him taking the journal and forgetting about him.


After ten minutes of silence, while John tried to understand the sudden change in the detective’s demeanor: "John keep up, will you? Go fetch your things, we don't need to waste time, we will be needing to chase some criminals later. I will text you if I need you sooner."


Sherlock, without lifting his eyes from the journal, made a dismissive motion with his hand. John wanted to growl at that, but really there was no more time to waste. This case smelled of something Mr. Havoc would do in his spare time to settle things with shapeshifters. Better to talk to Mr. Hunter Association about it.


When he was a safe distance from the flat he phoned Mycroft Holmes while looking at one of the CCTV cameras.


"Dr. Watson, how are things going with My brother?" John wondered why Mycroft was stressing the word my. It was almost as if Mycroft were psychic, and emphasizing that Sherlock was his baby brother; warning John against the possessive feelings he was beginning to harbor for the detective. Or perhaps it was just John being paranoid.


"I need you to meet me or send someone for me at my bedsit, I need information about werewolves in London and Moriarty's policies about them. Also I need to move my things to 221B, a van would be enough, and a car if the van has too many people."


"The car awaits you at the corner of Baker Street on your right, to take you to your current residence. The information will come with my assistant who will meet you there. Until we see each other Doctor."


"Good night to you too, Mycroft." It was really difficult remember this guy was not really a Ventrue.


John reached the corner and he entered the black sedan which left him at his bedsit. The human in a black suit followed him upstairs to ‘help him out’ as he put it.


The bulkiest thing in John's possession, now that he was in a city, was a mini freezer, for his blood bags. It was camouflaged as a tall wooden chest. He really didn't need the blood too much, but passing as a human, he needed more feeding in order to fool vampires. His other things were his soldier's duffle-bag with his clothes, a bag with his only suit, a laptop and a suitcase where his guns were hidden and assorted things which easily filled only a box.


There wasn’t any problem with the bedsit either, because the lease was only till that week, and he had paid in advance. So when he and the suit had packed everything, he found himself with 'Anthea' the assistant who was downstairs with a black van. The man in a suit put John's things in the van and he and the assistant took the Sedan.


As John had thought, Moriarty’s policy about werewolves was changeable but he was not claiming this murders as his. So maybe this was a political goal disguised as a serial killing? It was clear to John that in London Werewolves were not treated as equals or at least, diplomacy was not Moriarty’s forte. John clearly wouldn't find Moriarty himself at the end of this investigation, but it would attract his attention for sure.


*********************************************************************


They reached 221B and John had just brought his things into the house when a text arrived on his phone.


"John come at once. SH."


"Sherlock! I'm downstairs. If you want me there, then come down and help me out!"


“Busy, come up I need you now, John!”


John wasn’t pleased, and he wasn’t having any of this so he took his camouflaged freezer and went upstairs, without looking Sherlock in the face at all. From the corner of his eye, John could see him laying on the sofa looking at the ceiling.


“John, good, come here, I need your phone.” John didn’t acknowledge Sherlock presence.


“John don’t be daft, I said that I need your phone, now.” John didn’t answer and put his freezer in his closet and plugged it in. He came out of his room and down the stairs, not looking at Sherlock.


“John, please can you pass me your phone. I need it.” Sherlock was exasperated but he asked more nicely.


“Until you help me, I won’t help you, that is fair, if we are going to be colleagues and flatmates. And Sherlock, what is wrong with your phone, because you have one.”


Sherlock was on the verge of sulking. “For god’s sake, you can be really annoying, you know that, Captain Watson?”


Now John was almost grinning. “You are not the first insufferable git I have to deal with, and certainly you won’t be the one to break me.”

They looked at each other and started to chuckle and then laugh with all their might. John was never so at ease so early on in any kind of relationship in the past, and his past was extensive.


Sherlock and John went to the entrance and took the box, the dufflebag and the suitcase and left it in John’s new room in a single trip.


“Where are your other things, John?” Sherlock asked honestly.


“This is all that I have. After a decade in the army you don’t have time to accumulate many possessions, precisely. Now, why do you need my phone, exactly?” John sat near Sherlock.


"To text, John, what else?" Sherlock was at the edge of the sofa.


"Sherlock, you have your own phone for texting. Why use mine?"


"My number is on my website, so it could be known. Yours is not. Here in her journal Jennifer has her number and I want to test a theory, I think the murderer has her phone, so when we text him he will panic and he will come to us," said Sherlock, winking at John.


John passed him the phone. They touched very lightly, but it was electric, both of them looked into each other’s eyes for some moments and then Sherlock took the phone roughly breaking the connection, to text the murderer. Then they got their coats and went to the restaurant Angelo's to wait for the killer.


After Angelo had winked at them and left them the candle, "More romantic", and John asked for carpaccio for himself and some cheese’s cappelletti for Sherlock, they took wine, looking at each other.


John decided to be direct. "Do you have a girlfriend?"


Sherlock, a little surprised, took a sip of his wine. "Not really my area."


"Boyfriend then? Which is alright by the way," said John flirtingly.


"I know it’s alright, but no, I haven't," he said nervously.


"That is good, because I have no boyfriend or girlfriend at the moment." John looked in Sherlock's eyes and time stopped, he could not know for how long, but suddenly the spell broke because a cab was there at that moment, at the exact point Sherlock had texted for the encounter.


"John hurry up!" Sherlock stood up, putting on his coat and scarf while running out, John took his coat and hurried out with him.


They couldn't catch the taxi before it drove away. So they started to run through staircases, down alleys and across rooftops but to no avail. Finally they reached it and a simple scan was enough to tell it was the cabby and he was human. Sherlock thought it was the passenger and he was wrong, because it was some tourist. As John couldn't get him without evidence in front of Sherlock, John let the cabby go, for now, acting as if he had reached the same conclusion as Sherlock.


"Welcome to London."



*********************************************************************



They ran back to the flat, and found there none other than Sir Gregory Lestrade. John wasn't happy to find the vampire sitting in Sherlock’s chair, as if he owned the place.


"You couldn't wait until tomorrow morning Lestrade?" asked Sherlock. He sounded as angry as John felt.


"Good night to you, too, Sherlock. I received your package, thank you very much. Now give me’" he said while dancing his fingers on the arm of the chair.


Lestrade was expecting a case already solved for him, so all he had to do was plan out the cleaning. This was too much for John, who was losing his patience. Sherlock decided then, seeing the tension between them, that enough was enough and started talking.


"She was more clever than you for sure, Lestrade; she left her phone in his possession, so we could find him. I almost got him tonight. That's why there was no phone to be found in the suitcase or on her person." Sherlock was a little exasperated with their dimness.


"And the note?" asked Lestrade, exasperated.


"Werewolf the password of her phone” said Sherlock irritated. “She was a fanatic of the occult, vampires, werewolves and the lot, didn’t you see how much scarlet she used, and the book in her possession? How do you live your silly little life without really looking what it is before your nose?”


Lestrade didn’t look happy with this treatment, but it was clear to John that he was used to it.
“Then show me your genius Sherlock, where is the phone then?”


Sherlock was angry, but he took the laptop and typed in the appropriate site and the email of the woman and finally the password for the GPS location. After some minutes the GPS showed that the phone was in Baker Street.


“Sherlock, now what can you possibly tell me about that? You have it here?” said Lestrade raising an eyebrow.


“This is preposterous how...?” He stopped mid sentence, joining his hands under his chin.


Sherlock suddenly grunted, as if reprimanding himself and left the flat, walking down the stairs in a hurry. John and Lestrade followed him to the entrance of 221B. At the door was a scarlet iphone with a message. Sherlock raised the iphone in time for the others to reach him.


"What kind of antic is this Sherlock?" said Lestrade while gesticulating with his hands. "That thing was not here when I came in. Did you put it there?"


"No, Lestrade. John didn't either. Someone planted it here just now. In the time we talked, someone could have taken it easily. The human kind is not so noble to leave alone a new-model iphone in the street, for that long, especially if it is so colorful and easy to spot." Sherlock was irritable and pacing.


"Less so would I leave a phone with a message for myself with a picture of me entering my house from behind."


Sherlock showed them the picture of the Consultant and John himself entering the flat and in the footnote it read "We will meet soon Mr. Holmes, very soon, you only need to look proper and right."


Lestrade was a little baffled "Sherlock I will send you some people to look after you tonight, clearly you are target now. Please take care of yourself while I organize the backup." Lestrade's demeanor had changed totally from demanding to worry in a second. He took the phone from Sherlock and stormed off to the left where his car was.


"John I need that phone, please ask Lestrade to give it to me for a quick inspection, before he carries it to the Met, hurry!" Sherlock sounded frantic.


John knew they were really close to the cabby, he tried to scan the surface of Sherlock, but it was a storm of thoughts and he decided for now to go with the flow and went to find the Detective Inspector. "Sherlock, stay in the flat until I come back." Saying that John turned to the left.


When Sherlock was sure John was not watching him, he ran out and turned to the right.




To be continued...

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