Sherlock Fanfic: Shell Game (JWP #4)
Title: Shell Game
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate Postings: AO3
Rating/Content: PG13, domestic, disease, dialog only, set sometime in series 3.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 370
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #4: Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I think I got them all in one way or another in a last minute rush.
Summary: Just a minor breakfast apocalypse.
Shell Game
"John, you can't eat those eggs!
"I'm famished, Sherlock! These are the only things even vaguely edible in your fridge, so I'm having them."
"They're not-"
"Look, at this point I don't care if they're not chicken eggs, or even if they're not bird eggs of any sort. Lizard eggs, whatever. You had me out 'til four AM chasing burglars and searching skips in the East End. I had to call Mary to let her know we were alright, and she's furious because we didn't bring her along."
"Ah."
"Yes, 'ah'. She's livid. In fact she's gone well past livid and well into that terrifying calm, chipper, 'nothing's wrong' mode of hers. She very sweetly informed me the clinic called for an early morning locum to fill in today and she said I'd be glad to. I'm going home to a warzone, Sherlock, and then a day's work at the surgery, after a night spent rummaging in skips. The least you can do is provide breakfast."
"The eggs are diseased, John."
"...what?"
"I'm using them to incubate smallpox."
"Smallpox?"
"Well, it's based on smallpox, but the extremists Mycroft obtained it from made it considerably more more ambitious- For god's sake John, don't drop them!"
"You're incubating weaponized smallpox! In eggs! In your fridge! Unmarked! Sherlock, you bloody-"
"It's perfectly fine, John."
"No it isn't! Christ, it's the baking incident all over again! Does Mrs Hudson know?"
"Mrs Hudson's on a senior's cruise up the Danube."
"Good! Probably best she doesn't! Get rid of them."
"They aren't finished yet."
"Don't care. Dispose of them properly or I'm telling Mycroft."
"Hmm."
"...This wasn't Mycroft's idea... was it?"
"I do owe him a large debt that I am keen to discharge with all due haste."
"Give them back to him then. He can stick them in his fridge."
"He doesn't-"
"Don't care. Don't even care that I'm not living here anymore. They're gone by the time I'm off-shift - disposed of properly - or I'm calling in Disease Control."
"Don't be tedious, John."
"If it keeps you from releasing a plague that kills everyone on Baker Street, I'll be as tedious as I bloody well like. I'm going home to face Defcon 2, then I'm going to a full day's work exhausted and starving, but I will check up on this, Sherlock. Don't think I won't."
"You're serious about this."
"Deadly."
-.-.-
(that's it)
Post Note: The above-referenced baking incident. Since writing this felt like very familiar ground, I thought I needed to add the reference.
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate Postings: AO3
Rating/Content: PG13, domestic, disease, dialog only, set sometime in series 3.
Warnings: none
Word Count: 370
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #4: Horsemen of the Apocalypse. I think I got them all in one way or another in a last minute rush.
Summary: Just a minor breakfast apocalypse.
Shell Game
"John, you can't eat those eggs!
"I'm famished, Sherlock! These are the only things even vaguely edible in your fridge, so I'm having them."
"They're not-"
"Look, at this point I don't care if they're not chicken eggs, or even if they're not bird eggs of any sort. Lizard eggs, whatever. You had me out 'til four AM chasing burglars and searching skips in the East End. I had to call Mary to let her know we were alright, and she's furious because we didn't bring her along."
"Ah."
"Yes, 'ah'. She's livid. In fact she's gone well past livid and well into that terrifying calm, chipper, 'nothing's wrong' mode of hers. She very sweetly informed me the clinic called for an early morning locum to fill in today and she said I'd be glad to. I'm going home to a warzone, Sherlock, and then a day's work at the surgery, after a night spent rummaging in skips. The least you can do is provide breakfast."
"The eggs are diseased, John."
"...what?"
"I'm using them to incubate smallpox."
"Smallpox?"
"Well, it's based on smallpox, but the extremists Mycroft obtained it from made it considerably more more ambitious- For god's sake John, don't drop them!"
"You're incubating weaponized smallpox! In eggs! In your fridge! Unmarked! Sherlock, you bloody-"
"It's perfectly fine, John."
"No it isn't! Christ, it's the baking incident all over again! Does Mrs Hudson know?"
"Mrs Hudson's on a senior's cruise up the Danube."
"Good! Probably best she doesn't! Get rid of them."
"They aren't finished yet."
"Don't care. Dispose of them properly or I'm telling Mycroft."
"Hmm."
"...This wasn't Mycroft's idea... was it?"
"I do owe him a large debt that I am keen to discharge with all due haste."
"Give them back to him then. He can stick them in his fridge."
"He doesn't-"
"Don't care. Don't even care that I'm not living here anymore. They're gone by the time I'm off-shift - disposed of properly - or I'm calling in Disease Control."
"Don't be tedious, John."
"If it keeps you from releasing a plague that kills everyone on Baker Street, I'll be as tedious as I bloody well like. I'm going home to face Defcon 2, then I'm going to a full day's work exhausted and starving, but I will check up on this, Sherlock. Don't think I won't."
"You're serious about this."
"Deadly."
-.-.-
(that's it)
Post Note: The above-referenced baking incident. Since writing this felt like very familiar ground, I thought I needed to add the reference.