fic: Obvious (221b ficlet)
Title: Obvious
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing/Characters: Sherlock/John, Lestrade, Sally Donovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Wordcount: 221(b)
Disclaimer: They're still not mine.
Summary: “But it’s obvious,” Sherlock says, sounding as incredulous as ever.
A/N: written for blooms84 's birthday. Crack!fic.
Obvious
“But it’s obvious,” Sherlock says, sounding as incredulous as ever.
“Not to us,” John says hastily, trying to forestall disaster.
(There’s a cough from Donovan that sounds suspiciously like Tosser.)
“Oh, really! Look, one victim was walled up alive, one was killed by some sort of pendulum arrangement, one was crushed to death by a marble bust of Pallas for pity’s sake do you people need a talking bloody raven to explain it to you?”
More blank looks.
“Poe,” Sherlock says. “Edgar Allan Poe. All of the killings are linked to his writings.”
“Didn’t think you bothered to keep that sort of thing on your hard drive,” John says mutinously.
Sherlock glares.
“So we’re looking for a Poe fanatic?” Lestrade says.
Sherlock suddenly looks happy, which is always unnerving at a crime scene.
“All of the victims came from the same area,” he says, clicking on the map to zoom in.
Lestrade puts his glasses on. He’s self-conscious about them, only just got them, but they suit him, John thinks. Don’t get distracted, Watson.
“It's on the direct line to Washington D.C.,” Sherlock says. “And there’s the Poe House and Museum.”
John leans over his shoulder. Oh. No wonder Sherlock’s looking cheerful. He’s been going on about it ever since they watched The Wire.
Looks like they’re going to Baltimore.
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Pairing/Characters: Sherlock/John, Lestrade, Sally Donovan
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Wordcount: 221(b)
Disclaimer: They're still not mine.
Summary: “But it’s obvious,” Sherlock says, sounding as incredulous as ever.
A/N: written for blooms84 's birthday. Crack!fic.
Obvious
“But it’s obvious,” Sherlock says, sounding as incredulous as ever.
“Not to us,” John says hastily, trying to forestall disaster.
(There’s a cough from Donovan that sounds suspiciously like Tosser.)
“Oh, really! Look, one victim was walled up alive, one was killed by some sort of pendulum arrangement, one was crushed to death by a marble bust of Pallas for pity’s sake do you people need a talking bloody raven to explain it to you?”
More blank looks.
“Poe,” Sherlock says. “Edgar Allan Poe. All of the killings are linked to his writings.”
“Didn’t think you bothered to keep that sort of thing on your hard drive,” John says mutinously.
Sherlock glares.
“So we’re looking for a Poe fanatic?” Lestrade says.
Sherlock suddenly looks happy, which is always unnerving at a crime scene.
“All of the victims came from the same area,” he says, clicking on the map to zoom in.
Lestrade puts his glasses on. He’s self-conscious about them, only just got them, but they suit him, John thinks. Don’t get distracted, Watson.
“It's on the direct line to Washington D.C.,” Sherlock says. “And there’s the Poe House and Museum.”
John leans over his shoulder. Oh. No wonder Sherlock’s looking cheerful. He’s been going on about it ever since they watched The Wire.
Looks like they’re going to Baltimore.