Hope this is sort of what you were looking for, OP. :)
Sally Donovan had seen the Freak show up to dozens of crime scenes in various stages of Utter Weirdness, but those had become mercifully few since the advent of the Most Patient Man in London (the current title by which the small miracle-in-a-jumper was being referred to among the NSY-ers; it varied week by week, with the running favorite being London’s Smallest Assassin). This was, in other words, the first time in a long time Sherlock had arrived at a crime scene looking like he’d finally fallen over the fine line between psychopath and sociopath and had landed firmly on his bum in the psychopath territory.
“Is that a skull he’s carrying?” she heard one of the PCs ask incredulously from somewhere behind the police cordon
( ... )
Lestrade’s eyebrows popped upward. “Is there a reason you can’t ask him yourself, Sherlock?” he called as they moved toward the courtyard.
“He’s not speaking to me, Lestrade,” John sighed, edging around a puddle of mud.
“What is he, twelve?” Sally asked, shooting the amateur a disgusted look.
“In certain areas, I wonder,” the physician grumbled, moving past an extremely severe and glaring Sherlock to kneel by the body, all without even looking up. “Sherlock, what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?” A few beats of silence, and the man looked up in exasperation. “Cromwell, would you ask Mr. Holmes what exactly I am supposed to be looking for, before I decide to apply the nearest pointed object to hand with considerable force to sensitive portions of Mr. Holmes’s anatomy?”
“Cromw…oh, you did not,” Sally exclaimed, shaking her head before planting it in one hand
( ... )
“Sherlock,” Lestrade growled. “Listen, it’s been raining all morning, and my people are tired. Just tell us what you know, and let us all go home, eh
( ... )
FILL: 3b/3 (darn comment limits)
anonymous
October 17 2011, 02:49:20 UTC
Two sets of eyes (plus one set of empty sockets) turned indignantly towards them. Sherlock then held up the macabre relic with a look of deep affront. “I do believe we have been insulted, Cromwell.” Lestrade snorted, and moved toward the courtyard entry with Sally. Behind them, Sherlock was still at it. “Perhaps if you ask nicely, Cromwell, Dr. Watson will avenge your damaged ego
( ... )
Re: FILL: 3b/3 (darn comment limits)
anonymous
October 17 2011, 03:08:33 UTC
Ah ha ha. This made my night. Poor Cromwell, stuck in the middle of two blabbering lunatics! It's probably a good thing he's dead. I loved John's conversation with the skull at the end -- it's totally something I can see him doing in the show, for some odd reason.
Re: FILL: 3b/3 (darn comment limits)
anonymous
October 17 2011, 10:32:52 UTC
Brilliant! :D I cackled madly when I realised the go-between they were talking through was the skull (and believe me that's hard to do with a mouth full of hot porridge!) and I loved the way they also made up through the skull at the end. And oh dear me, the various police reactions were hilarious too!
I was going to say that when I was sitting in Plant Microbiology lectures my professor took great glee in telling us that the only way glyphosate could kill you was if you drowned in it - and then I looked it up, and it seems there's been a lot more toxicity research since then, and not only is glyphosate not as neutral to humans as previously thought, but when combined with the surfactant that Roundup uses, it can indeed kill people with symptoms similar to those you described. Huh, you learn something new every day!
Oh, that was brilliant and hilarious! I loved the name you found for Cromwell and the bickering felt perfectly IC - up to the reconciling pastry. Kudos for Lestrade's awe-filled punchline and many, many thanks for that hilarious fill!
Did your Sherlock by any chance attend Sidney Sussex college in Cambridge? (Oliver Cromwell's skull is buried there somewhere) because I am now picturing that Sherlock found it and that the skull is actually Oliver Cromwell.
Re: FILL: 3b/3 (darn comment limits)keerawaApril 24 2012, 09:18:27 UTC
Oh. My. God. That was a adorable and hilarious! I can so picture it ahppening! The gradual decrease of the skull's intercession with the offer of breakfast, and the John roundly insulting the skull by telling him that he's out of date and probably makes a rubbish cup of tea. *falls over laughing*
Sally Donovan had seen the Freak show up to dozens of crime scenes in various stages of Utter Weirdness, but those had become mercifully few since the advent of the Most Patient Man in London (the current title by which the small miracle-in-a-jumper was being referred to among the NSY-ers; it varied week by week, with the running favorite being London’s Smallest Assassin). This was, in other words, the first time in a long time Sherlock had arrived at a crime scene looking like he’d finally fallen over the fine line between psychopath and sociopath and had landed firmly on his bum in the psychopath territory.
“Is that a skull he’s carrying?” she heard one of the PCs ask incredulously from somewhere behind the police cordon ( ... )
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“He’s not speaking to me, Lestrade,” John sighed, edging around a puddle of mud.
“What is he, twelve?” Sally asked, shooting the amateur a disgusted look.
“In certain areas, I wonder,” the physician grumbled, moving past an extremely severe and glaring Sherlock to kneel by the body, all without even looking up. “Sherlock, what exactly am I supposed to be looking for?” A few beats of silence, and the man looked up in exasperation. “Cromwell, would you ask Mr. Holmes what exactly I am supposed to be looking for, before I decide to apply the nearest pointed object to hand with considerable force to sensitive portions of Mr. Holmes’s anatomy?”
“Cromw…oh, you did not,” Sally exclaimed, shaking her head before planting it in one hand ( ... )
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I was going to say that when I was sitting in Plant Microbiology lectures my professor took great glee in telling us that the only way glyphosate could kill you was if you drowned in it - and then I looked it up, and it seems there's been a lot more toxicity research since then, and not only is glyphosate not as neutral to humans as previously thought, but when combined with the surfactant that Roundup uses, it can indeed kill people with symptoms similar to those you described. Huh, you learn something new every day!
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And the name~!
I couldn't stop laughing all the way through the fic
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