Sherlock Fanfic: Voice of Command (JWP 2014 #14)
Title: Voice of Command
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate posting: At AO3
Characters: Inspector Dimmock, Sergeant Donovan, PC Hopkins (what I'm calling the ginger officer from the start of ASiB)
Rating/Content: PG13, garbage, bad crime scene practices, dubious plot rationale
Warnings: none
Word Count: 425
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #14: All For One And One For All. Have any three characters cooperate to overcome some obstacle. Bonus points if they are characters that don't normally interact and/or work well with each other. I'm not pleased with this one, but I'm out of time.
Summary: Whatever gets the job done.
Voice of Command
"Eugh," said Sergeant Donovan, pulling the discarded sticker from a wrapped sandwich out of her bra. "The second we get back, I am barricading the women's showers at the Met and scrubbing everywhere."
"We found the murder weapon, so it's not like it was for nothing." Inspector Dimmock was uncharacteristically sitting in the back of the squad car, arms crossed, windows rolled down, desperately trying not to smell himself.
"How does he do that?" asked PC Hopkins, grinning broadly as he drove the vehicle across Vauxhall Bridge and seemed completely oblivious that he had coffee grounds in his bright red hair.
"Who bloody knows." Sergeant Donovan clasped her hands over the bagged murder weapon in her lap rather than further investigating the unwanted contents of her clothing. "Some secret mental connection to other psychopaths that tells him when some murdering nutter's gone to a different postcode to toss the bloody hatchet rather than dumping it in the Thames like any sane murderer would."
"It works." Dimmock squirmed in the back seat and tried to fight the suspicion he'd managed to get eggshells down his pants. "Whatever it is he does. Lestrade wouldn't back him if he didn't get results. And normally he dives into the skips himself."
"Except this time there was no time for enough SOCO to get there to cover the area, or be sure of stopping the dustmen picking up in the streets in that neighbourhood, and he's got his foot in a cast."
"No, no," said PC Hopkins, still grinning. "I mean, it's all brilliant, the way he just looks at the evidence and sees so much immediately but... Dr Watson. How does he get Mr Holmes to stop trying to find it himself even with the cast on, and then convince all the officers on site to go out and start diving through half the skips in Camberwell and Brixton?"
Silence fell in the car.
"Military training-" Sergeant Donovan began.
"Doctors can-" Inspector Dimmock ventured.
Silence fell again, harder.
"Well, it worked." Dimmock said after a while. "And as long as it worked and we can get this murderer to trial with concrete proof - proof that would have been lost if we'd waited for SOCO, or arsed about trying to get the trash collection halted in two different boroughs while they were out picking up on the streets we needed to search most - that's the main thing."
"Yeah. I suppose." Sergeant Donovan pursed her lips and stared out the window.
"Fantastic!" Hopkins enthused, drying coffee grounds blowing out of his hair.
"Just drive." Dimmock hunched down into his jacket and felt something go squish. Next time Lestrade's off, he can get someone else to cover.
-.-.-
(meh. That's all)
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate posting: At AO3
Characters: Inspector Dimmock, Sergeant Donovan, PC Hopkins (what I'm calling the ginger officer from the start of ASiB)
Rating/Content: PG13, garbage, bad crime scene practices, dubious plot rationale
Warnings: none
Word Count: 425
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #14: All For One And One For All. Have any three characters cooperate to overcome some obstacle. Bonus points if they are characters that don't normally interact and/or work well with each other. I'm not pleased with this one, but I'm out of time.
Summary: Whatever gets the job done.
Voice of Command
"Eugh," said Sergeant Donovan, pulling the discarded sticker from a wrapped sandwich out of her bra. "The second we get back, I am barricading the women's showers at the Met and scrubbing everywhere."
"We found the murder weapon, so it's not like it was for nothing." Inspector Dimmock was uncharacteristically sitting in the back of the squad car, arms crossed, windows rolled down, desperately trying not to smell himself.
"How does he do that?" asked PC Hopkins, grinning broadly as he drove the vehicle across Vauxhall Bridge and seemed completely oblivious that he had coffee grounds in his bright red hair.
"Who bloody knows." Sergeant Donovan clasped her hands over the bagged murder weapon in her lap rather than further investigating the unwanted contents of her clothing. "Some secret mental connection to other psychopaths that tells him when some murdering nutter's gone to a different postcode to toss the bloody hatchet rather than dumping it in the Thames like any sane murderer would."
"It works." Dimmock squirmed in the back seat and tried to fight the suspicion he'd managed to get eggshells down his pants. "Whatever it is he does. Lestrade wouldn't back him if he didn't get results. And normally he dives into the skips himself."
"Except this time there was no time for enough SOCO to get there to cover the area, or be sure of stopping the dustmen picking up in the streets in that neighbourhood, and he's got his foot in a cast."
"No, no," said PC Hopkins, still grinning. "I mean, it's all brilliant, the way he just looks at the evidence and sees so much immediately but... Dr Watson. How does he get Mr Holmes to stop trying to find it himself even with the cast on, and then convince all the officers on site to go out and start diving through half the skips in Camberwell and Brixton?"
Silence fell in the car.
"Military training-" Sergeant Donovan began.
"Doctors can-" Inspector Dimmock ventured.
Silence fell again, harder.
"Well, it worked." Dimmock said after a while. "And as long as it worked and we can get this murderer to trial with concrete proof - proof that would have been lost if we'd waited for SOCO, or arsed about trying to get the trash collection halted in two different boroughs while they were out picking up on the streets we needed to search most - that's the main thing."
"Yeah. I suppose." Sergeant Donovan pursed her lips and stared out the window.
"Fantastic!" Hopkins enthused, drying coffee grounds blowing out of his hair.
"Just drive." Dimmock hunched down into his jacket and felt something go squish. Next time Lestrade's off, he can get someone else to cover.
-.-.-
(meh. That's all)