Phantom for Hire
Title: Phantom for Hire (BBC Sherlock fic)
Author: notoriginalname
Pairing: gen or preslash
Characters: Sherlock, John
Summary: Phanom of the Opera au... sort of (4 times the Phantom kidnapped Sherlock and the 1 time he didn't have to)
1.
“Why have you taken me hostage?” Sherlock asked.
“You are as beautiful as the day is long.” Replied a voice from the shadows.
“It’s winter,” Sherlock informed his kidnapper, “the days are rather short.”
“You play the violin so sweetly.” Continued the voice.
“Bored. I’m leaving.” Sherlock started for the exit.
“You can’t… I mean. Your music soothes my soul.” The voice continued.
“Who are you?” Sherlock asked.
“With my help you will play better than you ever imagined.”
“Who are you?” Sherlock asked exasperatedly.
“Sorry, I’m the Phantom. I’m getting to that bit next. Together we will make beautiful music. Here it is. I’m a fellow music lover… oops I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that. You wouldn’t consider just forgetting that bit, would you?” The voice asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and approached the man who was hiding behind a pillar.
“You’re reading a script?” He asked.
“It’s been a long day and I haven’t had time to memorize it yet.” The man replied tiredly. He then turned around quickly startled to see Sherlock standing behind him.
“Don’t do that!” He breathed out, “You gave me such a fright.”
“and you call yourself the Phantom.” Sherlock deadpanned.
“Well I’m rather new at this.” The man replied.
“And the mask and cape?”
“It’s all part of the deal.” The man said, “Goes with the whole “Phantom of the Opera” bit.”
“Phantom of the Opera?” Sherlock asked.
“Bollocks, I’ve given it all away. Yes like the musical.”
“What musical?”
“You don’t know the musical?” the man asked incredulously.
“The knowledge of musicals is irrelevant in my line of work.”
“Yeah. It’s irrelevant for most people. Doesn’t mean people don’t know it, though.”
“The musical.” Sherlock prompted.
“Oh yeah. This bloke’s obsessed with Phantom of the Opera. He left a whole foundation that provides money for reenacting it. Pays people like me to support the arts. It’s very specific. Either I do it like this or I don’t get paid. Not a bad program… a bit creepy, though, which is why the screening process is so intense.” The man explained.
“As interesting as this is…” Sherlock said.
“Oh right! Until we meet again.” The man replied. Sherlock waited a moment. The man didn’t move. “Would you mind turning around so I can disappear mysteriously?” He asked, “Also I’d really appreciate it if you acted like I was suitably “Phantom” like. This job pays really well and I need the work.”
“Of course.” Sherlock said and walked away from his kidnapper.
2.
“I’d rather hoped that this was a one time thing.” Sherlock said.
“I’m afraid not.” The man apologized.
“You may as well start on the new script.”
“Good idea. Your beauty has moved me as little can. For years I’ve been in this darkness alone. But the sound of your voice… er violin… and the sweetness in your smile has revived me.” The man read. Sherlock snorted.
“Tell me of your dreams and let us realize them togeth” The man said but was interrupted by Sherlock’s mobile.
“It’s probably my work.” Sherlock explained taking the mobile out of his pocket and rapidly texting a reply. The man waited for Sherlock to finish.
“Please continue.” Sherlock said sarcastically when he’d put his mobile away.
“Look I don’t like this any more than you do.” The man complained, “I’ll read through it quickly and we’ll be done… Play for me, Sherlock. Let our music transport us to another realm.” The man looked up expectantly when he’d finished reading.
“I don’t have anything to play with.” Sherlock said, “You didn’t exactly leave me time to take my violin.”
“Right. I’ll remember it next time.” The man said.
“Does this mean I can leave?” Sherlock asked.
“Sorry, it has to be an hour,” the man explained, “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Do you want to sit?” Sherlock asked gesturing at the bench.
“Oh. No, I’m fine.”
“What does your therapist think about all this?”
“I’m not actually crazy, you know. I don’t know why you think I have a therapist…”
“Because you do.” Sherlock interrupted.
“You can’t possibly know whether I have a therapist.”
“Psychosomatic limp? Of course you have a therapist.”
“How did you?”
“The way you walk.”
“I barely made one step.”
“That was enough. You also didn’t sit when given the opportunity.”
“You’re really observant.”
Sherlock didn’t deign to respond to the comment. “Can I borrow your phone? Mine’s out of battery.”
“Oh sure.” The man reached into his pocket and handed Sherlock his.
“Thanks.” Sherlock took the phone and sent a rapid-fire text before handing it back, “Didn’t want to ask your brother Harry for help? Was it the drinking or Clara that finally did it?”
“Were you looking through my phone?”
“Too easy. The phone’s engraved “To Harry xxx Clara,” it’s a fairly recent model expensive too. A few scratches along the sides-you don’t care for it so it’s from someone you’re not happy with at the moment. Not to you originally, your name’s not Harry. Why would Harry give you the phone his girlfriend gave him? They’ve separated and he wants you to keep in touch. The markings by the charger imply Harry drinks. He scratches the edge each time he goes to charge his phone.”
“How do you know my name’s not Harry?”
“The initials on your cane: JW. James or John?”
“You won’t be surprised that I’m not answering that last one.” The man replied, “but you’re right. Harry and me never got on. That’s brilliant, how you do that!”
“So I got it all right?” Sherlock asked smugly.
“All except Harry’s short for Harriet.”
“There’s always something.” Sherlock said.
“Hour’s up.” The man said. Sherlock nodded and walked away without looking back.
3.
“You’re rather good at abducting people.” Sherlock complimented.
“What? Er. Thanks.” The “Phantom” replied.
“It’s not nearly as terrible as your acting.” Sherlock continued. “You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for what happened to William Manning?”
“William Manning?”
“He was held hostage last week and whoever took him hostage made quite a lot of money from the deal.”
“What? I’m not a kidnapper! I’m a doctor!” The man replied aghast.
“A doctor dressing up in a cape and mask and abducting people at night?”
“I know how it sounds but I’m going through a rough time right now and can barely afford the rent on my shoebox of a flat.”
“Have you considered a flat share?” Sherlock asked.
“Who’d want to live with me?” the man asked self-deprecatingly.
“I’m looking for a flat mate. If you’d remove your mask, I’d think about it.”
“You’re mad. You know nothing about me besides it’s probably against the rules.”
“Living in the attic above the person you’re supposed to be stalking? I’d think it’d be encouraged.” Sherlock said. The man giggled rather endearingly.
“Sorry. Look I have your violin! Why don’t you play me something?”
“You said something about playing music together?” Sherlock asked.
“Oh. Um I don’t have anything to play.” The man replied.
“Do you play an instrument?”
“I played the clarinet in school, but that was a long time ago. I’m not very good… tell you the truth I was terrible back then. I’d be even worse now.”
“You’re hardly keeping your promise then.”
“I can sing something, I suppose.” The man said. Sherlock waited.
“Well?”
“You want me to sing now?”
“You want me to play now?” Sherlock replied.
“Fair’s fair. Um. I don’t know what to sing. All I can think of is “Row row row your boat.””
“You’ll have to sing it first, I don’t know that one.”
“Really? OK. Row row row your boat gently down the stream merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream.” The man sang nervously.
“Why did you stop?” Sherlock asked.
“Sorry.” The man sang again and this time Sherlock accompanied him on the violin. He sang much more confidently the third time and sounded like he was enjoying himself. They stopped after the fourth repetition and Sherlock ended the song with a flourish.
“Wow. You’re really good!” The man enthused. “Will you play me something?”
“A song for a song.” Sherlock replied.
“You don’t want me to sing again.” The man said. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Ok. I know! They make us learn this song. It’s from Phantom of the Opera: “Music of the Night.” The Phantom sings it.” The man began to sing haltingly at first but gaining confidence as he continued. His voice wasn’t trained or even strong but the performance was still entrancing. Sherlock joined in on his violin. The man stuttered on the next word surprised by Sherlock’s playing but he continued to sing. They stood there in silence long after the song had ended.
Sherlock cleared his throat, “As promised,” and began to play on his own. The music was sweet and the other man sighed in contentment closing his eyes and leaning against the pillar.
“Thank you.” He said when Sherlock was done. “You didn’t have to do that, you even played while I was singing! I hope you continue to play despite this whole “Phantom” thing and all the kidnappings.” He said earnestly. Sherlock nodded and as he walked away he could hear his Phantom humming the song Sherlock had played.
4.
“Are you alright?” the Phantom asked worriedly, “I’m not supposed to kidnap you for another week but you didn’t look well when I saw you the other day.”
“Saw me?”
“You were in a cab.”
“There haven’t been any murders recently.” Sherlock said as if that explained everything.
“Shouldn't that be a good thing?”
“Not good, boring.” Sherlock said, “This isn’t the usual place.”
“Another Phantom’s using it tonight. I had to improvise.”
“It’s almost as cliché.”
“Thanks.” The Phantom said. “Sherlock, is that?”
“Finally a body!” Sherlock said walking over to the corpse, “You’re a doctor. Tell me what you think.”
“There was some sort of struggle. Someone slit her throat. Recently deceased. Very recently. Sherlock, the murderer’s probably still close by.”
“I wouldn’t worry. She walked here. Her purse is gone. Simple case really.”
“Hey! What’re you doing?” A man yelled from a distance.
“Sherlock I think we’d better…” the Phantom said anxiously.
“I’ve texted Lestrade. The police should be here relatively soon.”
“Is that? Laura?” Another man yelled, “Those bastards killed Laura.”
“I’ll shoot! I’ll kill you for what you did to her.” The first man yelled and fired a gun in their direction.
“Sherlock.” The Phantom pleaded.
“Hm?”
“Get down.” And without further ado the Phantom pulled out a gun. “Shoot me?” He yelled. “I’ll shoot you first!” He shot the man with the gun in the arm then spun as if drunk to shoot at the ground by the second man’s feet.”
“Shit. They’re a couple of loonies. Look at what that one’s wearing.” The second man said. The two promptly ran away.
“Stupid.” Sherlock said angrily.
“Sherlock it wasn’t your fault. It’s mine I shouldn’t have brought you here…”
“How did I not know about the gun?” He asked himself. “Did you have that each time we met?” Sherlock demanded.
“Yes?” the Phantom replied confused. “You’re not scared?”
“Scared? Why would I be scared?”
“Sherlock, we were just shot at. I shot a man!”
“In the arm, that hardly counts.” Sherlock responded. “It seems I was wrong about more than one thing about you. You’re not a terrible actor.”
“That was insane.”
“I think that was rather the point.” Sherlock said. The Phantom giggled and Sherlock started to snicker too.
“We shouldn’t giggle at a crime scene.” The Phantom said still giggling.
“We should probably leave before the police come.” They eventually found a cab and Sherlock dropped the Phantom off on his way home.
1.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.” Sherlock commented. “It’s good to see you without that silly mask.”
“How did you know it’s me?”
“Your posture, general build, and limp.”
“How are you doing, Sherlock? I haven't seen you in ages.”
“I was rather disappointed when you failed to kidnap me the past three weeks. I was wondering how you’d manage it. I even left London to test you.”
“Sorry they reassigned me.”
“Ah. You’re finally ready to accept my offer, then?”
“You’re still looking for a flat mate?”
“It’s why Mike brought you here.”
“It’s true John.” Mike replied, “Though I can’t tell you how he knows that.”
“John,” Sherlock repeated delighted to finally know the name.
“John Watson.” John said with a smile.
“Nice to finally meet you John Watson.”
“Meet you? I thought you two knew each other.” Mike asked.
“I only knew a Phantom.” Sherlock said. John smiled. “The address is 221B Baker Street.”
Author: notoriginalname
Pairing: gen or preslash
Characters: Sherlock, John
Summary: Phanom of the Opera au... sort of (4 times the Phantom kidnapped Sherlock and the 1 time he didn't have to)
1.
“Why have you taken me hostage?” Sherlock asked.
“You are as beautiful as the day is long.” Replied a voice from the shadows.
“It’s winter,” Sherlock informed his kidnapper, “the days are rather short.”
“You play the violin so sweetly.” Continued the voice.
“Bored. I’m leaving.” Sherlock started for the exit.
“You can’t… I mean. Your music soothes my soul.” The voice continued.
“Who are you?” Sherlock asked.
“With my help you will play better than you ever imagined.”
“Who are you?” Sherlock asked exasperatedly.
“Sorry, I’m the Phantom. I’m getting to that bit next. Together we will make beautiful music. Here it is. I’m a fellow music lover… oops I don’t think I was supposed to tell you that. You wouldn’t consider just forgetting that bit, would you?” The voice asked. Sherlock rolled his eyes and approached the man who was hiding behind a pillar.
“You’re reading a script?” He asked.
“It’s been a long day and I haven’t had time to memorize it yet.” The man replied tiredly. He then turned around quickly startled to see Sherlock standing behind him.
“Don’t do that!” He breathed out, “You gave me such a fright.”
“and you call yourself the Phantom.” Sherlock deadpanned.
“Well I’m rather new at this.” The man replied.
“And the mask and cape?”
“It’s all part of the deal.” The man said, “Goes with the whole “Phantom of the Opera” bit.”
“Phantom of the Opera?” Sherlock asked.
“Bollocks, I’ve given it all away. Yes like the musical.”
“What musical?”
“You don’t know the musical?” the man asked incredulously.
“The knowledge of musicals is irrelevant in my line of work.”
“Yeah. It’s irrelevant for most people. Doesn’t mean people don’t know it, though.”
“The musical.” Sherlock prompted.
“Oh yeah. This bloke’s obsessed with Phantom of the Opera. He left a whole foundation that provides money for reenacting it. Pays people like me to support the arts. It’s very specific. Either I do it like this or I don’t get paid. Not a bad program… a bit creepy, though, which is why the screening process is so intense.” The man explained.
“As interesting as this is…” Sherlock said.
“Oh right! Until we meet again.” The man replied. Sherlock waited a moment. The man didn’t move. “Would you mind turning around so I can disappear mysteriously?” He asked, “Also I’d really appreciate it if you acted like I was suitably “Phantom” like. This job pays really well and I need the work.”
“Of course.” Sherlock said and walked away from his kidnapper.
2.
“I’d rather hoped that this was a one time thing.” Sherlock said.
“I’m afraid not.” The man apologized.
“You may as well start on the new script.”
“Good idea. Your beauty has moved me as little can. For years I’ve been in this darkness alone. But the sound of your voice… er violin… and the sweetness in your smile has revived me.” The man read. Sherlock snorted.
“Tell me of your dreams and let us realize them togeth” The man said but was interrupted by Sherlock’s mobile.
“It’s probably my work.” Sherlock explained taking the mobile out of his pocket and rapidly texting a reply. The man waited for Sherlock to finish.
“Please continue.” Sherlock said sarcastically when he’d put his mobile away.
“Look I don’t like this any more than you do.” The man complained, “I’ll read through it quickly and we’ll be done… Play for me, Sherlock. Let our music transport us to another realm.” The man looked up expectantly when he’d finished reading.
“I don’t have anything to play with.” Sherlock said, “You didn’t exactly leave me time to take my violin.”
“Right. I’ll remember it next time.” The man said.
“Does this mean I can leave?” Sherlock asked.
“Sorry, it has to be an hour,” the man explained, “Do you have any questions for me?”
“Do you want to sit?” Sherlock asked gesturing at the bench.
“Oh. No, I’m fine.”
“What does your therapist think about all this?”
“I’m not actually crazy, you know. I don’t know why you think I have a therapist…”
“Because you do.” Sherlock interrupted.
“You can’t possibly know whether I have a therapist.”
“Psychosomatic limp? Of course you have a therapist.”
“How did you?”
“The way you walk.”
“I barely made one step.”
“That was enough. You also didn’t sit when given the opportunity.”
“You’re really observant.”
Sherlock didn’t deign to respond to the comment. “Can I borrow your phone? Mine’s out of battery.”
“Oh sure.” The man reached into his pocket and handed Sherlock his.
“Thanks.” Sherlock took the phone and sent a rapid-fire text before handing it back, “Didn’t want to ask your brother Harry for help? Was it the drinking or Clara that finally did it?”
“Were you looking through my phone?”
“Too easy. The phone’s engraved “To Harry xxx Clara,” it’s a fairly recent model expensive too. A few scratches along the sides-you don’t care for it so it’s from someone you’re not happy with at the moment. Not to you originally, your name’s not Harry. Why would Harry give you the phone his girlfriend gave him? They’ve separated and he wants you to keep in touch. The markings by the charger imply Harry drinks. He scratches the edge each time he goes to charge his phone.”
“How do you know my name’s not Harry?”
“The initials on your cane: JW. James or John?”
“You won’t be surprised that I’m not answering that last one.” The man replied, “but you’re right. Harry and me never got on. That’s brilliant, how you do that!”
“So I got it all right?” Sherlock asked smugly.
“All except Harry’s short for Harriet.”
“There’s always something.” Sherlock said.
“Hour’s up.” The man said. Sherlock nodded and walked away without looking back.
3.
“You’re rather good at abducting people.” Sherlock complimented.
“What? Er. Thanks.” The “Phantom” replied.
“It’s not nearly as terrible as your acting.” Sherlock continued. “You wouldn’t happen to be responsible for what happened to William Manning?”
“William Manning?”
“He was held hostage last week and whoever took him hostage made quite a lot of money from the deal.”
“What? I’m not a kidnapper! I’m a doctor!” The man replied aghast.
“A doctor dressing up in a cape and mask and abducting people at night?”
“I know how it sounds but I’m going through a rough time right now and can barely afford the rent on my shoebox of a flat.”
“Have you considered a flat share?” Sherlock asked.
“Who’d want to live with me?” the man asked self-deprecatingly.
“I’m looking for a flat mate. If you’d remove your mask, I’d think about it.”
“You’re mad. You know nothing about me besides it’s probably against the rules.”
“Living in the attic above the person you’re supposed to be stalking? I’d think it’d be encouraged.” Sherlock said. The man giggled rather endearingly.
“Sorry. Look I have your violin! Why don’t you play me something?”
“You said something about playing music together?” Sherlock asked.
“Oh. Um I don’t have anything to play.” The man replied.
“Do you play an instrument?”
“I played the clarinet in school, but that was a long time ago. I’m not very good… tell you the truth I was terrible back then. I’d be even worse now.”
“You’re hardly keeping your promise then.”
“I can sing something, I suppose.” The man said. Sherlock waited.
“Well?”
“You want me to sing now?”
“You want me to play now?” Sherlock replied.
“Fair’s fair. Um. I don’t know what to sing. All I can think of is “Row row row your boat.””
“You’ll have to sing it first, I don’t know that one.”
“Really? OK. Row row row your boat gently down the stream merrily merrily merrily merrily life is but a dream.” The man sang nervously.
“Why did you stop?” Sherlock asked.
“Sorry.” The man sang again and this time Sherlock accompanied him on the violin. He sang much more confidently the third time and sounded like he was enjoying himself. They stopped after the fourth repetition and Sherlock ended the song with a flourish.
“Wow. You’re really good!” The man enthused. “Will you play me something?”
“A song for a song.” Sherlock replied.
“You don’t want me to sing again.” The man said. Sherlock raised an eyebrow. “Ok. I know! They make us learn this song. It’s from Phantom of the Opera: “Music of the Night.” The Phantom sings it.” The man began to sing haltingly at first but gaining confidence as he continued. His voice wasn’t trained or even strong but the performance was still entrancing. Sherlock joined in on his violin. The man stuttered on the next word surprised by Sherlock’s playing but he continued to sing. They stood there in silence long after the song had ended.
Sherlock cleared his throat, “As promised,” and began to play on his own. The music was sweet and the other man sighed in contentment closing his eyes and leaning against the pillar.
“Thank you.” He said when Sherlock was done. “You didn’t have to do that, you even played while I was singing! I hope you continue to play despite this whole “Phantom” thing and all the kidnappings.” He said earnestly. Sherlock nodded and as he walked away he could hear his Phantom humming the song Sherlock had played.
4.
“Are you alright?” the Phantom asked worriedly, “I’m not supposed to kidnap you for another week but you didn’t look well when I saw you the other day.”
“Saw me?”
“You were in a cab.”
“There haven’t been any murders recently.” Sherlock said as if that explained everything.
“Shouldn't that be a good thing?”
“Not good, boring.” Sherlock said, “This isn’t the usual place.”
“Another Phantom’s using it tonight. I had to improvise.”
“It’s almost as cliché.”
“Thanks.” The Phantom said. “Sherlock, is that?”
“Finally a body!” Sherlock said walking over to the corpse, “You’re a doctor. Tell me what you think.”
“There was some sort of struggle. Someone slit her throat. Recently deceased. Very recently. Sherlock, the murderer’s probably still close by.”
“I wouldn’t worry. She walked here. Her purse is gone. Simple case really.”
“Hey! What’re you doing?” A man yelled from a distance.
“Sherlock I think we’d better…” the Phantom said anxiously.
“I’ve texted Lestrade. The police should be here relatively soon.”
“Is that? Laura?” Another man yelled, “Those bastards killed Laura.”
“I’ll shoot! I’ll kill you for what you did to her.” The first man yelled and fired a gun in their direction.
“Sherlock.” The Phantom pleaded.
“Hm?”
“Get down.” And without further ado the Phantom pulled out a gun. “Shoot me?” He yelled. “I’ll shoot you first!” He shot the man with the gun in the arm then spun as if drunk to shoot at the ground by the second man’s feet.”
“Shit. They’re a couple of loonies. Look at what that one’s wearing.” The second man said. The two promptly ran away.
“Stupid.” Sherlock said angrily.
“Sherlock it wasn’t your fault. It’s mine I shouldn’t have brought you here…”
“How did I not know about the gun?” He asked himself. “Did you have that each time we met?” Sherlock demanded.
“Yes?” the Phantom replied confused. “You’re not scared?”
“Scared? Why would I be scared?”
“Sherlock, we were just shot at. I shot a man!”
“In the arm, that hardly counts.” Sherlock responded. “It seems I was wrong about more than one thing about you. You’re not a terrible actor.”
“That was insane.”
“I think that was rather the point.” Sherlock said. The Phantom giggled and Sherlock started to snicker too.
“We shouldn’t giggle at a crime scene.” The Phantom said still giggling.
“We should probably leave before the police come.” They eventually found a cab and Sherlock dropped the Phantom off on his way home.
1.
“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten me.” Sherlock commented. “It’s good to see you without that silly mask.”
“How did you know it’s me?”
“Your posture, general build, and limp.”
“How are you doing, Sherlock? I haven't seen you in ages.”
“I was rather disappointed when you failed to kidnap me the past three weeks. I was wondering how you’d manage it. I even left London to test you.”
“Sorry they reassigned me.”
“Ah. You’re finally ready to accept my offer, then?”
“You’re still looking for a flat mate?”
“It’s why Mike brought you here.”
“It’s true John.” Mike replied, “Though I can’t tell you how he knows that.”
“John,” Sherlock repeated delighted to finally know the name.
“John Watson.” John said with a smile.
“Nice to finally meet you John Watson.”
“Meet you? I thought you two knew each other.” Mike asked.
“I only knew a Phantom.” Sherlock said. John smiled. “The address is 221B Baker Street.”