Sherlock BBC fic: "Stretching." part 2
Title: Stretching (part 2 of?)
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
Warnings for the chapter: Mycroft’s owns Britain, explosions and instant love.
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!
General Summary: 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.
Chapter Summary: 'Meetings are not always according to plan...sometimes they are more dangerous.'
Betas: My wonderful and fabulous friends mojoflower and mildred_bobbin You are awesome and I love you both!
You can read This chapter at: You can read it on AO3 too
Or You can start for the prologue: Here in AO3
'Meetings are not always according to plan...sometimes they are more dangerous.'
Chapter Two
Afghanistan, 2009, Bastion Hospital Camp.
John was visited in the campaign hospital by two 'people'. One was tall; he had the bearing of old money, education and power. He may have looked like a vampire Prince, but he was a human and not only that, in his eyes there was not fear or longing, but this man was human. His blood was rich with stories of vampire's blood, but his hands had no blood on them; his heart on the other hand, as John looked into his eyes, held plenty. This man must be the head of the hunting association in England at least. John winked at him, this was interesting already.
The other one: a vampire, comparatively young but old enough to handle himself and instill leadership and trust, even if he didn’t have that much power, he had a lot of potential. John didn’t need to Scan this young man to know he was the leader of the clan Ventrue-Tremere in England. He was very like the human in several respects, the way they both held themselves, talked, etc. Really they could be sire and thrall.
"Gentleman, it is good to see you together, this will shorten 'the looking for the proper local authorities’ business in England. Now we can cut the pleasantries to names and get down to business. As you know my name is John Watson, Special Operations, clan Gangrel, your man for the next few years." John smiled at them and both of them seemed taken aback.
The first to talk was the prince, who scanned John as he asses him.
"My name is Sir Arthur, read my mind for my codename, John." John heard clearly in his mind "The Ash.", John was amused by the nickname, but the flair of dramatics ran deep in the Ventrue clan.
"My real name is Janus if you want to know," said John, smiling at them.
"Thanks Janus,” said The Ash. As John considered the prince’s physical attributes, tall with blond hair and green eyes; he noticed that his sire was most definitely Clarice, she had a type. John still remembered her fondly.
"I am the head of Vampire Ops. But my residence is not in London, if you must know, it is Edinburgh. I will deliver my orders and Intel via other ops and Holmes here." The Ash rested his hand on the head of his bed.
"My name is Mycroft Holmes; I hold a position in the human British government as I am the President of the Hunter Association of England and Europe, and off course, honorary part of your council. I will be your direct chief in London, and as Sir Arthur had established I will provide my Intel as well as his." Mr. Holmes rested his hands on a brolly, a bloody umbrella in the Middle East. John wondered if he had some kind of sabre in it.
"Glad to meet you gentlemen, now I need to know what my cover will be, where I’ll be staying in London and how I will approach the subject of our association with Mr Havoc Moriarty and his network." Both men agreed at the same time and seemed satisfied with themselves for some reason.
"You will live on an army pension in London with my brother, Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. He is not a hunter, even if he has all the qualifications; he is a genius, but he was a little lost some years ago, rehabilitated now. He is a private detective helping the Human NSY. and the Hunter Association when they are in need of his talents. He also takes some private cases. You will be staying there as my last attempt for protection of his person. He has a real problematic personality, and he had piqued the interest of Moriarty”. Mr. Holmes used his brolly a lot to make a point especially about his brother.
“You will be standing by his side as cover from Moriarty, but near to something he wants, and he really wants my baby brother for himself; Moriarty has some kind of fixation with our family. He had abducted and turned or persecuted to turn some members of my clan and killed several others. Apparently my Brother is his new obsession. You will be staying in connection with us. You will be hiding in plain sight and I expect with more opportunities to find him and eliminate him smoothly and traceless as possible." Mr. Holmes was trying to emanate coolness and detachment, but it was clear from his rigid posture that he was worried about the outcome.
"Your brother knows about our little project, Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Holmes shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable.
"No, he doesn't, we prefer he stays in the dark, Moriarty is very good at reading minds, also we don’t want Moriarty to discover that you’re a vampire and on our side. So Sherlock, must be blind to your vampiric nature. Because of Moriarty we need Sherlock to keep you at his side, and because my brother loves to solve puzzles, piquing his interest about who you are, really it is the better option."
John could tell that Mr. Holmes' use of 'we' was a loose interpretation. Meaning that he likely was the only one who wanted John to play bodyguard 24/7 to Sherlock: a personal extra tacked on to the larger assignment of bringing down Moriarty. Mr. Holmes was certainly amusing; he was not even trying to hide the fact.
He decided to Scan the guy and saw how his brother would react to this plan of Mr. Holmes’: not so well apparently. He looked deeper and saw a possible connection, and a solution, Mike Stamford.
"Sir Arthur, Mr. Holmes, I like the idea of my cover but I think I have a better idea for introducing myself to Sherlock Holmes, without any suspicion. But I will need your authorization and one powerful Tremere to do it."
They listened to him and finally they accepted his plan and put it into action.
Every plan has a flaw. And what John Watson never anticipated when he was finally "introduced" to Sherlock Holmes at Barts was that for the first time in his long life, he wished someone to be his. Sherlock Holmes was stunning, not only because he was beautiful, but because he was bold and amazing, his mind was something to behold, someone to cherish and immortalize. Sherlock Holmes was also a pain in the arse, dangerous and a liability. So John was doomed.
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London, later in 2009.
Sherlock was sure that his last experiment had been completely safe, so the explosion was totally unexpected. The stupidity of his landlord was not. Sherlock decided that even if the whole affair sounded strange to say the least, getting out of Montague Street would be the best outcome. It was far away from the center of London, it was a really tiny flat and he needed space, so even if he would have to share with a flatmate, anything would be better than staying where he was. He decided to visit his old client list.
Mrs. Hudson was doing really well now that she was finally back on her feet and had recovered her house and received the money from the legal system. She welcomed him with a hug, tea and biscuits. She was very receptive to his offer, and she said he could move in tomorrow. But he would still require a flatmate, which would be a problem. She hugged him again, and told him that having a hunter near her was a blessing, that he had to eat more and take care of himself, and the whole mothering speech. But he hugged her back because it felt natural and he came back to his old flat to break his lease, pay extra for the damage of the explosion and pack
Everything went according to plan, the only problem remaining was to find a partner for the flat. Mike Stamford was the person for the task, he was well known for his empathy with people and for his extensive list of friends and acquaintances. So Sherlock went to Barts and casually broached the subject with him, mentioning how difficult it would be for him to find a flatmate.
Within the space of less than five hours, Mike returned with a retired soldier, who was also a doctor. He was very attractive, in spite of his unassuming bearing and clothes. But, Sherlock thought, there was something about him, he was so much more Sherlock couldn't identify. His eyes were so deep that Sherlock thought for a moment that here was a puzzle he would gladly solve again and again, always finding new pieces. Sherlock Holmes did the best he could to remain cool, after the inevitable compromises he made to the man for tomorrow at 221B for their meeting the next day.
Sherlock escaped, this time, to run for his riding crop and from the new feelings escaping from his chest and trying to control him. But he was uncomfortably aware that he could probably never run from John Watson again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sherlock thought a lot that night. About a lot of subjects he never allowed himself to dwell on. Like what this army captain and doctor had to make him so entranced? Clearly his awful clothing was not a reason, but even that was strange; that the clockwork soldier, adrenaline driven, impossible mixture between impossible wisdom and impossible dimness; charming, caring healer and feral murderous creature as he was a warrior, wore those kinds of jumpers. It must be part of a disguise, and one that fooled everyone, even partially fooled Sherlock, into thinking this army doctor was someone harmless and ordinary. But some other part of Sherlock’s mind was telling him dangerous and beautiful and brilliant. Sherlock had never felt this way for anyone before. It was exhilarating and maybe tomorrow would coming too late.
Sherlock put his hands under his chin and let his mind classify his whole library again to better occupy the new space in his flat, he also decided to ask for some groceries delivered, like tea, milk and maybe jam and honey, some bread? So there was something to eat when John Watson arrived. He would talk with Mrs. Hudson about it in the morning. His thoughts went back to John's eyes, and the danger hidden there.
The next day Sherlock was really nervous but using his leather gloves was a great solution. Feeling John’s actual flesh would have been too much sensory overload, considering the problem he had with thinking processes and keeping his gaze from being permanently glued to John Watson's shifting eyes.
Fortunately he was saved by Lestrade. The Detective Inspector called and got him the best present ever: a serial killer who made a mistake. But John was needed at his side; he tried to find an obvious way to assure it. Because...because, he is a Doctor! A warrior doctor who had seen visceral things, so knows about death himself, that it is the perfectly plausible excuse.
"Do you want to see some more?" said Sherlock smiling invitingly.
"Oh god yes!" said John with an easy big smile in his face.
And after saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson they ran for the first time into the night, looking for a cab.
------------------------------------------
The cab ride was filled with Sherlock’s reasoning behind his deductions about John the day before, about the war, his medical career and also about his falsified life, his studies. And between the lines, John could see that Sherlock saw something of Janus, which made something inside him very greedy for this human.
But his good mood didn't last long. After they arrived to Lauriston Gardens they were rudely greeted by a petite woman with chocolate skin who started to insult Sherlock on sight.
Sherlock presented the human as Sergeant Donovan, but this social nicety didn't deter her unjustified bad manners towards Sherlock. Her attitude made John lose his temper, for the first time in a decade. John looked at her soul and made her stop and obey him. She would behave around Sherlock and himself and she would behave politely and friendly like a police officer must, from now on in their presence or even when thinking about them.
Donovan closed her mouth, smiled at them and let them enter the police tape and lead the way to the correct house. Calling her boss, Donovan alerted him of the arrival of the consultant and his colleague.
Sherlock seemed bemused by her new found politeness, but he shook his head and confronted Anderson as always while Donovan blushed and tried to make her lover shut his mouth, to no avail.
John smirked at Sherlock for his brilliant snarking comment to the human as they entered their first crime scene together.
To be continued....
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
Warnings for the chapter: Mycroft’s owns Britain, explosions and instant love.
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!
General Summary: 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.
Chapter Summary: 'Meetings are not always according to plan...sometimes they are more dangerous.'
Betas: My wonderful and fabulous friends mojoflower and mildred_bobbin You are awesome and I love you both!
You can read This chapter at: You can read it on AO3 too
Or You can start for the prologue: Here in AO3
'Meetings are not always according to plan...sometimes they are more dangerous.'
Chapter Two
Afghanistan, 2009, Bastion Hospital Camp.
John was visited in the campaign hospital by two 'people'. One was tall; he had the bearing of old money, education and power. He may have looked like a vampire Prince, but he was a human and not only that, in his eyes there was not fear or longing, but this man was human. His blood was rich with stories of vampire's blood, but his hands had no blood on them; his heart on the other hand, as John looked into his eyes, held plenty. This man must be the head of the hunting association in England at least. John winked at him, this was interesting already.
The other one: a vampire, comparatively young but old enough to handle himself and instill leadership and trust, even if he didn’t have that much power, he had a lot of potential. John didn’t need to Scan this young man to know he was the leader of the clan Ventrue-Tremere in England. He was very like the human in several respects, the way they both held themselves, talked, etc. Really they could be sire and thrall.
"Gentleman, it is good to see you together, this will shorten 'the looking for the proper local authorities’ business in England. Now we can cut the pleasantries to names and get down to business. As you know my name is John Watson, Special Operations, clan Gangrel, your man for the next few years." John smiled at them and both of them seemed taken aback.
The first to talk was the prince, who scanned John as he asses him.
"My name is Sir Arthur, read my mind for my codename, John." John heard clearly in his mind "The Ash.", John was amused by the nickname, but the flair of dramatics ran deep in the Ventrue clan.
"My real name is Janus if you want to know," said John, smiling at them.
"Thanks Janus,” said The Ash. As John considered the prince’s physical attributes, tall with blond hair and green eyes; he noticed that his sire was most definitely Clarice, she had a type. John still remembered her fondly.
"I am the head of Vampire Ops. But my residence is not in London, if you must know, it is Edinburgh. I will deliver my orders and Intel via other ops and Holmes here." The Ash rested his hand on the head of his bed.
"My name is Mycroft Holmes; I hold a position in the human British government as I am the President of the Hunter Association of England and Europe, and off course, honorary part of your council. I will be your direct chief in London, and as Sir Arthur had established I will provide my Intel as well as his." Mr. Holmes rested his hands on a brolly, a bloody umbrella in the Middle East. John wondered if he had some kind of sabre in it.
"Glad to meet you gentlemen, now I need to know what my cover will be, where I’ll be staying in London and how I will approach the subject of our association with Mr Havoc Moriarty and his network." Both men agreed at the same time and seemed satisfied with themselves for some reason.
"You will live on an army pension in London with my brother, Sherlock Holmes, Consulting Detective. He is not a hunter, even if he has all the qualifications; he is a genius, but he was a little lost some years ago, rehabilitated now. He is a private detective helping the Human NSY. and the Hunter Association when they are in need of his talents. He also takes some private cases. You will be staying there as my last attempt for protection of his person. He has a real problematic personality, and he had piqued the interest of Moriarty”. Mr. Holmes used his brolly a lot to make a point especially about his brother.
“You will be standing by his side as cover from Moriarty, but near to something he wants, and he really wants my baby brother for himself; Moriarty has some kind of fixation with our family. He had abducted and turned or persecuted to turn some members of my clan and killed several others. Apparently my Brother is his new obsession. You will be staying in connection with us. You will be hiding in plain sight and I expect with more opportunities to find him and eliminate him smoothly and traceless as possible." Mr. Holmes was trying to emanate coolness and detachment, but it was clear from his rigid posture that he was worried about the outcome.
"Your brother knows about our little project, Mr. Holmes?" Mr. Holmes shrugged and looked a little uncomfortable.
"No, he doesn't, we prefer he stays in the dark, Moriarty is very good at reading minds, also we don’t want Moriarty to discover that you’re a vampire and on our side. So Sherlock, must be blind to your vampiric nature. Because of Moriarty we need Sherlock to keep you at his side, and because my brother loves to solve puzzles, piquing his interest about who you are, really it is the better option."
John could tell that Mr. Holmes' use of 'we' was a loose interpretation. Meaning that he likely was the only one who wanted John to play bodyguard 24/7 to Sherlock: a personal extra tacked on to the larger assignment of bringing down Moriarty. Mr. Holmes was certainly amusing; he was not even trying to hide the fact.
He decided to Scan the guy and saw how his brother would react to this plan of Mr. Holmes’: not so well apparently. He looked deeper and saw a possible connection, and a solution, Mike Stamford.
"Sir Arthur, Mr. Holmes, I like the idea of my cover but I think I have a better idea for introducing myself to Sherlock Holmes, without any suspicion. But I will need your authorization and one powerful Tremere to do it."
They listened to him and finally they accepted his plan and put it into action.
Every plan has a flaw. And what John Watson never anticipated when he was finally "introduced" to Sherlock Holmes at Barts was that for the first time in his long life, he wished someone to be his. Sherlock Holmes was stunning, not only because he was beautiful, but because he was bold and amazing, his mind was something to behold, someone to cherish and immortalize. Sherlock Holmes was also a pain in the arse, dangerous and a liability. So John was doomed.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
London, later in 2009.
Sherlock was sure that his last experiment had been completely safe, so the explosion was totally unexpected. The stupidity of his landlord was not. Sherlock decided that even if the whole affair sounded strange to say the least, getting out of Montague Street would be the best outcome. It was far away from the center of London, it was a really tiny flat and he needed space, so even if he would have to share with a flatmate, anything would be better than staying where he was. He decided to visit his old client list.
Mrs. Hudson was doing really well now that she was finally back on her feet and had recovered her house and received the money from the legal system. She welcomed him with a hug, tea and biscuits. She was very receptive to his offer, and she said he could move in tomorrow. But he would still require a flatmate, which would be a problem. She hugged him again, and told him that having a hunter near her was a blessing, that he had to eat more and take care of himself, and the whole mothering speech. But he hugged her back because it felt natural and he came back to his old flat to break his lease, pay extra for the damage of the explosion and pack
Everything went according to plan, the only problem remaining was to find a partner for the flat. Mike Stamford was the person for the task, he was well known for his empathy with people and for his extensive list of friends and acquaintances. So Sherlock went to Barts and casually broached the subject with him, mentioning how difficult it would be for him to find a flatmate.
Within the space of less than five hours, Mike returned with a retired soldier, who was also a doctor. He was very attractive, in spite of his unassuming bearing and clothes. But, Sherlock thought, there was something about him, he was so much more Sherlock couldn't identify. His eyes were so deep that Sherlock thought for a moment that here was a puzzle he would gladly solve again and again, always finding new pieces. Sherlock Holmes did the best he could to remain cool, after the inevitable compromises he made to the man for tomorrow at 221B for their meeting the next day.
Sherlock escaped, this time, to run for his riding crop and from the new feelings escaping from his chest and trying to control him. But he was uncomfortably aware that he could probably never run from John Watson again.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sherlock thought a lot that night. About a lot of subjects he never allowed himself to dwell on. Like what this army captain and doctor had to make him so entranced? Clearly his awful clothing was not a reason, but even that was strange; that the clockwork soldier, adrenaline driven, impossible mixture between impossible wisdom and impossible dimness; charming, caring healer and feral murderous creature as he was a warrior, wore those kinds of jumpers. It must be part of a disguise, and one that fooled everyone, even partially fooled Sherlock, into thinking this army doctor was someone harmless and ordinary. But some other part of Sherlock’s mind was telling him dangerous and beautiful and brilliant. Sherlock had never felt this way for anyone before. It was exhilarating and maybe tomorrow would coming too late.
Sherlock put his hands under his chin and let his mind classify his whole library again to better occupy the new space in his flat, he also decided to ask for some groceries delivered, like tea, milk and maybe jam and honey, some bread? So there was something to eat when John Watson arrived. He would talk with Mrs. Hudson about it in the morning. His thoughts went back to John's eyes, and the danger hidden there.
The next day Sherlock was really nervous but using his leather gloves was a great solution. Feeling John’s actual flesh would have been too much sensory overload, considering the problem he had with thinking processes and keeping his gaze from being permanently glued to John Watson's shifting eyes.
Fortunately he was saved by Lestrade. The Detective Inspector called and got him the best present ever: a serial killer who made a mistake. But John was needed at his side; he tried to find an obvious way to assure it. Because...because, he is a Doctor! A warrior doctor who had seen visceral things, so knows about death himself, that it is the perfectly plausible excuse.
"Do you want to see some more?" said Sherlock smiling invitingly.
"Oh god yes!" said John with an easy big smile in his face.
And after saying goodbye to Mrs. Hudson they ran for the first time into the night, looking for a cab.
------------------------------------------
The cab ride was filled with Sherlock’s reasoning behind his deductions about John the day before, about the war, his medical career and also about his falsified life, his studies. And between the lines, John could see that Sherlock saw something of Janus, which made something inside him very greedy for this human.
But his good mood didn't last long. After they arrived to Lauriston Gardens they were rudely greeted by a petite woman with chocolate skin who started to insult Sherlock on sight.
Sherlock presented the human as Sergeant Donovan, but this social nicety didn't deter her unjustified bad manners towards Sherlock. Her attitude made John lose his temper, for the first time in a decade. John looked at her soul and made her stop and obey him. She would behave around Sherlock and himself and she would behave politely and friendly like a police officer must, from now on in their presence or even when thinking about them.
Donovan closed her mouth, smiled at them and let them enter the police tape and lead the way to the correct house. Calling her boss, Donovan alerted him of the arrival of the consultant and his colleague.
Sherlock seemed bemused by her new found politeness, but he shook his head and confronted Anderson as always while Donovan blushed and tried to make her lover shut his mouth, to no avail.
John smirked at Sherlock for his brilliant snarking comment to the human as they entered their first crime scene together.
To be continued....