FIC: Dust (Dawn/Mary Russell)
Title: Dust
tth100 prompt: Dawn
Crossover fandom: the Marry Russel books/Sherlock Holmes
Characters: Dawn, Mary Russell, Sherlock Holmes
Prompt: 064 -- Diary (master table)
Word Count: 732
Rating: PG/FR7
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Laurie R. King own all things Marry Russell. Only the story is my own.
Note: A new sort of crossover for me. If you've never read the Mary Russell books, but you like Sherlock Holmes, I recommend picking up a copy of the Beekeeper's Apprentice.
~~*~~
Coughing at the cloud of dust, Dawn raised the creaking lid of the trunk and looked inside.
The trunk was just one of many such boxes hidden deep in the basement of the old English house, a repository of Watcher knowledge that the First either missed or didn't bother to destroy. Dawn privately thought that the First just ignored it, this creaky old house with its drafty halls where no one every ventured.
But here she was, all bored on her summer vacation, drafted by a frazzled Giles into cataloguing what remained of the Watcher's Council's knowledge. She would rather have stayed in Rome, with all those really hot Italian boys.
The trunk was full of papers and books and other things. Diaries, Dawn noted as she lifted one cover, handwritten.
There were three diaries at the top of the trunk, then a pile of old newspaper clippings. Really old, from just before the start of the second world war. Someone had circled a portion of one clipping, and Dawn held it up to read it in the dim light.
The short paragraph mentioned the theft from the British Museum of an artifact from the African display, with no further details. In spidery handwriting beside the article, scrawling over a government exhortation to save fuel, was the phrase, "Fourth. All? Query Mycroft."
Something about the name Mycroft was familiar, but Dawn couldn't place it. She dug deeper, and came to a bundle of telegrams. She read them in order.
RUSSELL RESEARCH NIGERIA NATIVE RELIGION STOP SEARCH CUSTOMS ON GIRL WARRIORS STOP MYCROFT WILL FORWARD NO NEED TO JOIN ME STOP
HOLMES AM JOINING YOU IN LIVERPOOL ON THE TENTH STOP RESEARCH SO FAR FRUITLESS BUT HAVE MEETING WITH MISSIONARY TONIGHT STOP WATSON STRUCK BY AUTO BROKEN LEG WILL RECOVER FULLY STOP
RUSSELL WILL BE AT WILTSHIRE HOTEL ON TENTH STOP WAS WATSON TARGET QUERY
WATSON NOT TARGETED STOP ACCIDENT ONLY HAVE INVESTIGATED STOP MISSIONARY MEETING SUCCESS BUT WAS FOLLOWED STOP AM GOING TO GROUND STOP
That was the last of the telegrams. Dawn stared, not really sure of what she was seeing. Holmes and Watson? This couldn't be real. She'd read those stories in class, of Sherlock Holmes, but those were fiction, right?
She looked back at the diaries. She flipped the top one open. The name scribbled in the front of the journal was M. Russell, and the handwriting was different than had been on the newspaper, much more cramped and difficult to read. The date in the top corner was the day after the last telegram was sent.
After my meeting with Hartford, the missionary Mycroft sent me, I was followed by two men back to my hotel. They were good, to the point where I did not ever see them at first. It was only as I paused to purchase the Evening Times that I spotted them.
Luckily, the hotel is one Holmes and I have used before. My room adjoined a disused service hall, and after applying a hasty disguise, I managed to leave without being noticed. I took myself to the station and was on a train to London within the hour. I am certain that my followers were not on the train; however, until I know what they are after, I am hesitant to continue to Liverpool to meet Holmes.
At first, I was leery of Holmes taking this latest case, the theft of the Nigerian artifacts from the museum as they related to the native African legends of a girl warrior, but Hartford's story does contain certain consistencies from my previous research. Perhaps whatever Holmes has been doing on the Continent will clear up some of this muddle.
Girl warrior? This had to be about the Slayer, Dawn thought. She'd have to check, but she thought that the Slayer at the time the journal was written had been in Czechoslovakia.
Dawn was half-certain that this was a joke, but that only made her more determined to get to the bottom of this. The Watcher's Council was notorious for the lack of a sense of humour. She doubted they'd keep something like this around if it wasn't real.
Resolutely, Dawn went back to the trunk. She'd figure this out if it was the last thing she'd ever do. The first thing she needed to do was to try and find out who this M. Russell was.
-fin
tth100 prompt: Dawn
Crossover fandom: the Marry Russel books/Sherlock Holmes
Characters: Dawn, Mary Russell, Sherlock Holmes
Prompt: 064 -- Diary (master table)
Word Count: 732
Rating: PG/FR7
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon owns all things Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Laurie R. King own all things Marry Russell. Only the story is my own.
Note: A new sort of crossover for me. If you've never read the Mary Russell books, but you like Sherlock Holmes, I recommend picking up a copy of the Beekeeper's Apprentice.
~~*~~
Coughing at the cloud of dust, Dawn raised the creaking lid of the trunk and looked inside.
The trunk was just one of many such boxes hidden deep in the basement of the old English house, a repository of Watcher knowledge that the First either missed or didn't bother to destroy. Dawn privately thought that the First just ignored it, this creaky old house with its drafty halls where no one every ventured.
But here she was, all bored on her summer vacation, drafted by a frazzled Giles into cataloguing what remained of the Watcher's Council's knowledge. She would rather have stayed in Rome, with all those really hot Italian boys.
The trunk was full of papers and books and other things. Diaries, Dawn noted as she lifted one cover, handwritten.
There were three diaries at the top of the trunk, then a pile of old newspaper clippings. Really old, from just before the start of the second world war. Someone had circled a portion of one clipping, and Dawn held it up to read it in the dim light.
The short paragraph mentioned the theft from the British Museum of an artifact from the African display, with no further details. In spidery handwriting beside the article, scrawling over a government exhortation to save fuel, was the phrase, "Fourth. All? Query Mycroft."
Something about the name Mycroft was familiar, but Dawn couldn't place it. She dug deeper, and came to a bundle of telegrams. She read them in order.
RUSSELL RESEARCH NIGERIA NATIVE RELIGION STOP SEARCH CUSTOMS ON GIRL WARRIORS STOP MYCROFT WILL FORWARD NO NEED TO JOIN ME STOP
HOLMES AM JOINING YOU IN LIVERPOOL ON THE TENTH STOP RESEARCH SO FAR FRUITLESS BUT HAVE MEETING WITH MISSIONARY TONIGHT STOP WATSON STRUCK BY AUTO BROKEN LEG WILL RECOVER FULLY STOP
RUSSELL WILL BE AT WILTSHIRE HOTEL ON TENTH STOP WAS WATSON TARGET QUERY
WATSON NOT TARGETED STOP ACCIDENT ONLY HAVE INVESTIGATED STOP MISSIONARY MEETING SUCCESS BUT WAS FOLLOWED STOP AM GOING TO GROUND STOP
That was the last of the telegrams. Dawn stared, not really sure of what she was seeing. Holmes and Watson? This couldn't be real. She'd read those stories in class, of Sherlock Holmes, but those were fiction, right?
She looked back at the diaries. She flipped the top one open. The name scribbled in the front of the journal was M. Russell, and the handwriting was different than had been on the newspaper, much more cramped and difficult to read. The date in the top corner was the day after the last telegram was sent.
After my meeting with Hartford, the missionary Mycroft sent me, I was followed by two men back to my hotel. They were good, to the point where I did not ever see them at first. It was only as I paused to purchase the Evening Times that I spotted them.
Luckily, the hotel is one Holmes and I have used before. My room adjoined a disused service hall, and after applying a hasty disguise, I managed to leave without being noticed. I took myself to the station and was on a train to London within the hour. I am certain that my followers were not on the train; however, until I know what they are after, I am hesitant to continue to Liverpool to meet Holmes.
At first, I was leery of Holmes taking this latest case, the theft of the Nigerian artifacts from the museum as they related to the native African legends of a girl warrior, but Hartford's story does contain certain consistencies from my previous research. Perhaps whatever Holmes has been doing on the Continent will clear up some of this muddle.
Girl warrior? This had to be about the Slayer, Dawn thought. She'd have to check, but she thought that the Slayer at the time the journal was written had been in Czechoslovakia.
Dawn was half-certain that this was a joke, but that only made her more determined to get to the bottom of this. The Watcher's Council was notorious for the lack of a sense of humour. She doubted they'd keep something like this around if it wasn't real.
Resolutely, Dawn went back to the trunk. She'd figure this out if it was the last thing she'd ever do. The first thing she needed to do was to try and find out who this M. Russell was.
-fin