Surveillance of 221B Baker Street
Title: Surveillance of 221B Baker Street
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word Count: 650
Rating: R
Note: Amnesty prompt #1 for watsons_woes - eavesdropping.
Summary: Sherlock and John decide to teach Mycroft a lesson when he re-bugs 221B.
Surveillance of 221B Baker Street
Sherlock froze just as they stepped through the door to the flat. John, who’d been intent on a cuppa after their long night giving statements at the Yard (“We’ll do it tomorrow” wasn’t cutting it with Greg anymore - he knew better), almost ran into his back. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Sherlock silenced him with a sharp look and a gesture to be quiet. Tensing for danger, John’s eyes swept the room, wishing he had his gun on him.
Sherlock moved further in, eyeing things at random before stopping by the table and grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen. John, still prepared for an intruder, wasn’t ready when Sherlock, still bent over the paper, suddenly said in a deep breathy voice “God, John, do you have any clue how hard it was not to rip your clothes off right there in Lestrade’s office.”
John almost swallowed his tongue as he whipped his head around.
Sherlock stood from his hunched position over the table, holding up a hastily scrawled note -
Mycroft has had the flat bugged while we were out. We should show my brother why eavesdropping is unwise.
Sherlock waved at him impatiently as he stood frozen, watching the note drop back to the table.
“Uh, right, yes. That would’ve been… awkward…”
John cringed at the dirty look Sherlock gave him and straightened up a little, finding his soldier’s fortitude. Coughing slightly before continuing, he pushed his voice into a deeper register, smoothing it out.
“Nothing’s stopping you now.”
Sherlock gave a tiny quirk of his lips and a nod of approval. He kicked out at a pile of books, sending them toppling as his eyes went back to scanning the room.
“Oh, so good,” he moaned.
“Sherlock!” John added, smiling as he got into playing along.
“Oh, John, do that thing, the one that I love so,” Sherlock went on, his breathy voice completely at odds with the look of concentration on his face as he dropped to the floor to peer under the table.
John floundered for a second before smirking deviously.
“Maaaaaaaaah,” he bleated, giving his best goat impersonation.
There was a loud bang as Sherlock jerked upright before he’d fully come out from under the table, smacking his head on the underside and upsetting everything piled on top. The look of shock and then pure malicious glee that overcame his face made John feel strangely smug. The strangled tone as Sherlock tried not to laugh fit nicely into the act as well.
“Oh, John… Yes! Do at again, and touch me here!”
John bit his knuckle to keep the laughter from bursting out and after a second was able to get out a warbling sound that was closer to a sick cat than a goat. It was just so utterly ridiculous sounding that he collapsed in silent laughter by the couch.
Sherlock wasn’t doing much better. Bent over at the waist with one hand supporting him on the table and the other wrapped around his stomach, he rattled the table a little as he fought to get enough air to keep playing the game.
“That’s right,” he gasped. “Just like that for Farmer Holmes.”
In a nondescript office not far away, Anthea watched the newly installed video surveillance of 221B Baker Street’s sitting room with a raised eyebrow. It was hard to believe these were grown men. And even harder to believe one was related to her boss. Mycroft Holmes, who suffered no fools and came up with such inventive punishments as surveillance duty for one tiny miscalculation...
As she watched the Doctor and the Detective roll around and moan lewd things an evil idea crept into her head...
Half an hour later, Mycroft had a seemingly innocuous e-mail waiting for him titled “221B Surveillance Update” with an attached audio file.
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Word Count: 650
Rating: R
Note: Amnesty prompt #1 for watsons_woes - eavesdropping.
Summary: Sherlock and John decide to teach Mycroft a lesson when he re-bugs 221B.
Surveillance of 221B Baker Street
Sherlock froze just as they stepped through the door to the flat. John, who’d been intent on a cuppa after their long night giving statements at the Yard (“We’ll do it tomorrow” wasn’t cutting it with Greg anymore - he knew better), almost ran into his back. He opened his mouth to ask what was wrong, but Sherlock silenced him with a sharp look and a gesture to be quiet. Tensing for danger, John’s eyes swept the room, wishing he had his gun on him.
Sherlock moved further in, eyeing things at random before stopping by the table and grabbing a sheet of paper and a pen. John, still prepared for an intruder, wasn’t ready when Sherlock, still bent over the paper, suddenly said in a deep breathy voice “God, John, do you have any clue how hard it was not to rip your clothes off right there in Lestrade’s office.”
John almost swallowed his tongue as he whipped his head around.
Sherlock stood from his hunched position over the table, holding up a hastily scrawled note -
Mycroft has had the flat bugged while we were out. We should show my brother why eavesdropping is unwise.
Sherlock waved at him impatiently as he stood frozen, watching the note drop back to the table.
“Uh, right, yes. That would’ve been… awkward…”
John cringed at the dirty look Sherlock gave him and straightened up a little, finding his soldier’s fortitude. Coughing slightly before continuing, he pushed his voice into a deeper register, smoothing it out.
“Nothing’s stopping you now.”
Sherlock gave a tiny quirk of his lips and a nod of approval. He kicked out at a pile of books, sending them toppling as his eyes went back to scanning the room.
“Oh, so good,” he moaned.
“Sherlock!” John added, smiling as he got into playing along.
“Oh, John, do that thing, the one that I love so,” Sherlock went on, his breathy voice completely at odds with the look of concentration on his face as he dropped to the floor to peer under the table.
John floundered for a second before smirking deviously.
“Maaaaaaaaah,” he bleated, giving his best goat impersonation.
There was a loud bang as Sherlock jerked upright before he’d fully come out from under the table, smacking his head on the underside and upsetting everything piled on top. The look of shock and then pure malicious glee that overcame his face made John feel strangely smug. The strangled tone as Sherlock tried not to laugh fit nicely into the act as well.
“Oh, John… Yes! Do at again, and touch me here!”
John bit his knuckle to keep the laughter from bursting out and after a second was able to get out a warbling sound that was closer to a sick cat than a goat. It was just so utterly ridiculous sounding that he collapsed in silent laughter by the couch.
Sherlock wasn’t doing much better. Bent over at the waist with one hand supporting him on the table and the other wrapped around his stomach, he rattled the table a little as he fought to get enough air to keep playing the game.
“That’s right,” he gasped. “Just like that for Farmer Holmes.”
In a nondescript office not far away, Anthea watched the newly installed video surveillance of 221B Baker Street’s sitting room with a raised eyebrow. It was hard to believe these were grown men. And even harder to believe one was related to her boss. Mycroft Holmes, who suffered no fools and came up with such inventive punishments as surveillance duty for one tiny miscalculation...
As she watched the Doctor and the Detective roll around and moan lewd things an evil idea crept into her head...
Half an hour later, Mycroft had a seemingly innocuous e-mail waiting for him titled “221B Surveillance Update” with an attached audio file.