Prompt 14: Any Excuse for a Holiday
Title: Any Excuse for a Holiday
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: G
'Verse: BBC Sherlock
Word Count: 1022
Summary: "Sherlock now only takes cases internationally if they will at least pay his airfare and he is never gone very long."
Author's Notes: For prompt 14 of watsons_woes July Writing Prompts. This one was to include France or something French in honour of Bastille Day.
It's very rare that they get an international case and even rarer that John's presence is required. The one time that John did accompany Sherlock, to Spain, it had been an utter waste of Sherlock's time. Sherlock now only takes cases internationally if they will at least pay his airfare and he is never gone very long. It's like Sherlock can't be away from London for more than a week.
When the French government calls him and offers him free airfare for both John and himself Sherlock is almost excited to head off. Much to John's annoyance, he has family and work obligations that he has to contend with. Mandatory staff training seminar on lord knows what and the intervention that Clara and a few of her's and Harry's friends are getting together for Harry. She has become much worse, worse in the way she had been while John was on his first tour. As much as John doesn't get along with her he knows he must do what he can. Sherlock, shockingly, has little to say on that regard. "Text me when it's all sorted," he orders. "At the very least you'll get a holiday out of it."
That's a first coming from Sherlock. It's probably a part of Operation: Be Nice to John.
The intervention goes terribly. Harry tries to run, she goes missing for a few days, and she eventually ends up arrested. John refuses to bail her out but her friends do it instead. He spends another few days consoling Clara who was furious that she's allowed herself to think that Harry could be saved. John tries not to say that he told her so. During all this the internet is abuzz with the fact that Sherlock was doing some amazing work in France. Something involving corruption in a department and bribes - the whole continent appears to be singing his praises. John texts him for details and texts him with congratulations but hears nothing. Unsurprising.
When he manages to get back to London his phone rings within five minutes of being home. It's from a hotel manager in Lyons. Hotel Dulong. He begs for John to come to his hotel immediately and to take Sherlock Holmes in hand. "Il est malade, docteur Watson. Il est très malade. Il veut personne que vous."
One phone call gets him to Lyons faster that he would have ever thought possible and what he finds, aside from a room that is ankle deep in government dossiers and newspapers, is an exhausted and over taxed Sherlock Holmes. He's pale and waxen and is feverish.
Cursing himself, his job, and Harry Watson, he manages to get Sherlock into bed and into a pair of torn pyjama bottoms and one of his own t-shirts. Sherlock does not stir while John places wet flannels on his forehead every few minutes and sets about paying off one of the staff to do a quick grocery run. It's when he's trying to argue the microwave into cooperation that Sherlock decides to stir.
"John?"
"How are you feeling?" He reaches to feel his pulse and then shoves the flannel aside to feel his forehead, then the side of his face.
"Much better now," Sherlock smiles.
John, despite the worry and the fact that it is quite possible that Sherlock did this on purpose, has to smile back. Sherlock manages to sit up and John shoves an extra pillow behind him to help him. When he stomach growls John has to smile and laugh this time while Sherlock glares at his abdomen like it has committed treason. "I took the liberty of getting some food." He retreats to the kitchen and tosses Sherlock a pack of biscuits. "Soup is forthcoming, once the microwave begins to work."
"Two, then three, then one and four together." Sherlock recites as he tries to break open the pack with his teeth. "It was making too much noise."
"So you reprogrammed it?" John swears he can hear Sherlock shrug from the bed. He stifles his giggles and sets about getting it sorted. He sounds better already.
"It made sense at the time," Sherlock dismisses. "How's Harry?"
John bites his lip and the shouts at Sherlock to stay in bed when he hears it creak. "I'm fine," he promises. "She's the same. Did you get my texts?"
No reply. "I'm sorry, John."
"S'fine." He picks up the bowl and brings it in. "I never really expected it to work. Did not expect the wild goose chase but...there you have it."
Sherlock palms the bowl in his hand and stares into its depths as John gets comfortable in the desk chair. "I'm sorry my timing is not the best."
"Unless you did this on purpose don't worry about it." John reconsiders. "Even then don't worry about it. I think I need to be away from the whole mess for awhile. And we're not going anywhere until you're well enough."
"I can be sick for as long as you need me too." Sherlock helps himself to his soup, finally, but maintains eye contact with John until he finally nods.
"Tell me though," John begins. "Was this on purpose?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, John, I do not appreciate collapsing mid investigation."
"Wait, mid investigation? The papers said you were finished."
"Nearly," he agrees. He scraps the bowl for the last of the noodles. "One loose end to sort but if you wouldn't mind e-mailing Mycroft about the current status of Baron Maupertuis I will consider the matter resolved. My laptop is over there somewhere." He waves at the mountain of paperwork on the desk. "And you may tell him that we are unreachable for whatever period of time you deem necessary. Post the same to Science of Deduction and your damnable blog as well."
"You serious?" This is surprising.
"Of course I am, I'm ill and you're in need of a holiday are you not? Post the thing. Also grab me some more biscuits."
John isn't sure how much of a holiday this is going to be but he is thankful for the gesture.
Author's Note: Basic plot idea is an illusion to an incident described in "The Reigate Squires" from the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Please also excuse my French if it is not precisely correct.
Author: arwen_kenobi
Rating: G
'Verse: BBC Sherlock
Word Count: 1022
Summary: "Sherlock now only takes cases internationally if they will at least pay his airfare and he is never gone very long."
Author's Notes: For prompt 14 of watsons_woes July Writing Prompts. This one was to include France or something French in honour of Bastille Day.
It's very rare that they get an international case and even rarer that John's presence is required. The one time that John did accompany Sherlock, to Spain, it had been an utter waste of Sherlock's time. Sherlock now only takes cases internationally if they will at least pay his airfare and he is never gone very long. It's like Sherlock can't be away from London for more than a week.
When the French government calls him and offers him free airfare for both John and himself Sherlock is almost excited to head off. Much to John's annoyance, he has family and work obligations that he has to contend with. Mandatory staff training seminar on lord knows what and the intervention that Clara and a few of her's and Harry's friends are getting together for Harry. She has become much worse, worse in the way she had been while John was on his first tour. As much as John doesn't get along with her he knows he must do what he can. Sherlock, shockingly, has little to say on that regard. "Text me when it's all sorted," he orders. "At the very least you'll get a holiday out of it."
That's a first coming from Sherlock. It's probably a part of Operation: Be Nice to John.
The intervention goes terribly. Harry tries to run, she goes missing for a few days, and she eventually ends up arrested. John refuses to bail her out but her friends do it instead. He spends another few days consoling Clara who was furious that she's allowed herself to think that Harry could be saved. John tries not to say that he told her so. During all this the internet is abuzz with the fact that Sherlock was doing some amazing work in France. Something involving corruption in a department and bribes - the whole continent appears to be singing his praises. John texts him for details and texts him with congratulations but hears nothing. Unsurprising.
When he manages to get back to London his phone rings within five minutes of being home. It's from a hotel manager in Lyons. Hotel Dulong. He begs for John to come to his hotel immediately and to take Sherlock Holmes in hand. "Il est malade, docteur Watson. Il est très malade. Il veut personne que vous."
One phone call gets him to Lyons faster that he would have ever thought possible and what he finds, aside from a room that is ankle deep in government dossiers and newspapers, is an exhausted and over taxed Sherlock Holmes. He's pale and waxen and is feverish.
Cursing himself, his job, and Harry Watson, he manages to get Sherlock into bed and into a pair of torn pyjama bottoms and one of his own t-shirts. Sherlock does not stir while John places wet flannels on his forehead every few minutes and sets about paying off one of the staff to do a quick grocery run. It's when he's trying to argue the microwave into cooperation that Sherlock decides to stir.
"John?"
"How are you feeling?" He reaches to feel his pulse and then shoves the flannel aside to feel his forehead, then the side of his face.
"Much better now," Sherlock smiles.
John, despite the worry and the fact that it is quite possible that Sherlock did this on purpose, has to smile back. Sherlock manages to sit up and John shoves an extra pillow behind him to help him. When he stomach growls John has to smile and laugh this time while Sherlock glares at his abdomen like it has committed treason. "I took the liberty of getting some food." He retreats to the kitchen and tosses Sherlock a pack of biscuits. "Soup is forthcoming, once the microwave begins to work."
"Two, then three, then one and four together." Sherlock recites as he tries to break open the pack with his teeth. "It was making too much noise."
"So you reprogrammed it?" John swears he can hear Sherlock shrug from the bed. He stifles his giggles and sets about getting it sorted. He sounds better already.
"It made sense at the time," Sherlock dismisses. "How's Harry?"
John bites his lip and the shouts at Sherlock to stay in bed when he hears it creak. "I'm fine," he promises. "She's the same. Did you get my texts?"
No reply. "I'm sorry, John."
"S'fine." He picks up the bowl and brings it in. "I never really expected it to work. Did not expect the wild goose chase but...there you have it."
Sherlock palms the bowl in his hand and stares into its depths as John gets comfortable in the desk chair. "I'm sorry my timing is not the best."
"Unless you did this on purpose don't worry about it." John reconsiders. "Even then don't worry about it. I think I need to be away from the whole mess for awhile. And we're not going anywhere until you're well enough."
"I can be sick for as long as you need me too." Sherlock helps himself to his soup, finally, but maintains eye contact with John until he finally nods.
"Tell me though," John begins. "Was this on purpose?"
Sherlock rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, John, I do not appreciate collapsing mid investigation."
"Wait, mid investigation? The papers said you were finished."
"Nearly," he agrees. He scraps the bowl for the last of the noodles. "One loose end to sort but if you wouldn't mind e-mailing Mycroft about the current status of Baron Maupertuis I will consider the matter resolved. My laptop is over there somewhere." He waves at the mountain of paperwork on the desk. "And you may tell him that we are unreachable for whatever period of time you deem necessary. Post the same to Science of Deduction and your damnable blog as well."
"You serious?" This is surprising.
"Of course I am, I'm ill and you're in need of a holiday are you not? Post the thing. Also grab me some more biscuits."
John isn't sure how much of a holiday this is going to be but he is thankful for the gesture.
Author's Note: Basic plot idea is an illusion to an incident described in "The Reigate Squires" from the Adventures of Sherlock Holmes. Please also excuse my French if it is not precisely correct.