[Fic] Sherlock (BBC) - Apprentice
Title: Apprentice
Author:
autumndynasty
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: John, Sherlock
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, unbeta'd.
Wordcount: 488
Summary: All John wants is for the random tests to stop, please.
Notes: Written as part of my Resolution Table. #1 - Accomplished
Those damnable shoes are what began it.
Sherlock had passed him the shoes and asked for his opinion, as though he thought John would actually have something worthwhile to contribute. Well, he’d tried. Done pretty well too, he’d thought, until Sherlock unsurprisingly went off in a completely different and more detailed direction.
Frankly, it had just been a bit of a nuisance.
--------------------
“Would you like to try again?”
John starts at the question.
“Sorry?” he asks.
“The tracks, John. What do you make of them?” Sherlock gestures impatiently at the deep footprints trailing through the dirt. They don’t seem that informative to John, but his pride stops him admitting that.
“No, I...” Sherlock gives him a bland look. “They’re human footprints,” he finishes lamely.
“I know even you can do better than that,” Sherlock says. John sighs and glares at the footprints as though they’re to blame for his friend’s charitable mood.
“O--kay. Judging by their size, they were made by an adult male,” he pauses to look sidelong at Sherlock. The man’s expression gives away nothing. “The prints aren’t far apart, so he wasn’t running. And they’re pretty deep, so maybe he was a big guy?
Sherlock gives him a wry smile.
“Not bad. Certainly, he wasn’t running, though you haven’t said why. The depth is uneven between the left and right feet; the man favoured his left foot. Why would he do that if it were his own bulk? No, he was carrying something; something heavy and possibly awkward. The footprints are heavier at the toes, which suggest he was hurrying but was unable to run. Since there’s nothing fitting the description of heavy and awkward nearby, whoever murdered him here was after that item. Now, about the victim himself--”
Throughout the monologue, John wondered why no one else could ever reach the simple conclusions so easily.
--------------------
“So where would you start in looking for the panic room?” Sherlock asked and by now, John was almost getting used to it.
“Wait. A panic room?” Almost.
Sherlock is already looking around the room speculatively. As if he wasn’t waiting for an answer at all.
“A rich man with a jealous wife, and dealing in such a volatile market? Of course he has one. So where would you look?”
John’s brain scrambles to catch up as his mouth moves for him.
“Tap the walls for hollow sections?” John asks, and he imagines he sees Sherlock’s shoulders slump a little. “But those won’t be it because a panic room would have a thick door, so it might be better to just check the dimensions of the house or something?”
Sherlock gives a barking laugh.
“The walls are a good start for now. We’ll make a detective of you yet!” He coughs. “Well. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I suppose.”
But all John feels is a real sense of accomplishment.
And maybe the surprise tests will stop now.
This entry was originally posted at http://autumndynasty.dreamwidth.org/2345.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Author:
autumndynasty
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Characters: John, Sherlock
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, unbeta'd.
Wordcount: 488
Summary: All John wants is for the random tests to stop, please.
Notes: Written as part of my Resolution Table. #1 - Accomplished
Those damnable shoes are what began it.
Sherlock had passed him the shoes and asked for his opinion, as though he thought John would actually have something worthwhile to contribute. Well, he’d tried. Done pretty well too, he’d thought, until Sherlock unsurprisingly went off in a completely different and more detailed direction.
Frankly, it had just been a bit of a nuisance.
--------------------
“Would you like to try again?”
John starts at the question.
“Sorry?” he asks.
“The tracks, John. What do you make of them?” Sherlock gestures impatiently at the deep footprints trailing through the dirt. They don’t seem that informative to John, but his pride stops him admitting that.
“No, I...” Sherlock gives him a bland look. “They’re human footprints,” he finishes lamely.
“I know even you can do better than that,” Sherlock says. John sighs and glares at the footprints as though they’re to blame for his friend’s charitable mood.
“O--kay. Judging by their size, they were made by an adult male,” he pauses to look sidelong at Sherlock. The man’s expression gives away nothing. “The prints aren’t far apart, so he wasn’t running. And they’re pretty deep, so maybe he was a big guy?
Sherlock gives him a wry smile.
“Not bad. Certainly, he wasn’t running, though you haven’t said why. The depth is uneven between the left and right feet; the man favoured his left foot. Why would he do that if it were his own bulk? No, he was carrying something; something heavy and possibly awkward. The footprints are heavier at the toes, which suggest he was hurrying but was unable to run. Since there’s nothing fitting the description of heavy and awkward nearby, whoever murdered him here was after that item. Now, about the victim himself--”
Throughout the monologue, John wondered why no one else could ever reach the simple conclusions so easily.
--------------------
“So where would you start in looking for the panic room?” Sherlock asked and by now, John was almost getting used to it.
“Wait. A panic room?” Almost.
Sherlock is already looking around the room speculatively. As if he wasn’t waiting for an answer at all.
“A rich man with a jealous wife, and dealing in such a volatile market? Of course he has one. So where would you look?”
John’s brain scrambles to catch up as his mouth moves for him.
“Tap the walls for hollow sections?” John asks, and he imagines he sees Sherlock’s shoulders slump a little. “But those won’t be it because a panic room would have a thick door, so it might be better to just check the dimensions of the house or something?”
Sherlock gives a barking laugh.
“The walls are a good start for now. We’ll make a detective of you yet!” He coughs. “Well. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, I suppose.”
But all John feels is a real sense of accomplishment.
And maybe the surprise tests will stop now.
This entry was originally posted at http://autumndynasty.dreamwidth.org/2345.html. Please comment there using OpenID.