Fic: Hunting the Hunter
Title: Hunting the Hunter
Author: Maestress83
Rating: PG
Universe: Granada AU
Character(s): Doctor Watson, Sebastian Moran, Inspector Lestrade
Relationships/Pairing: None
Summary: Watson's patience finally pays off.
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 184
Author's Notes: Sequel to Forbearance. Written in response to JWP 2015 #6 (Quotation Prompt) on Watson's Woes. "Imitate the actions of a tiger." --Shakepeare, Henry V
For three years Watson had carefully hunted the hunter. The patience he had lost with the Yard, he regained with tracking Holmes' second most dangerous man in London. He had watched him, waited for him to make a mistake.
And when the unwitting Lestrade smugly walked him through the Ronald Adair murder scene, Watson knew he had made it at last.
The courtroom had their laugh at the doctor playing at policework, "speculating" about soft-nosed bullets and gun types and bullet velocities. But the most important man in the room hadn't joined in, and while outwardly the good doctor appeared embarrassed, inwardly he felt nothing but grim satisfaction. He had him.
He had tethered his bait and set his trap, just like his prey would have done if he were still bagging tigers in India. He could feel the baleful glare from his cruel blue eyes, even at a distance. Doctor Watson knew or suspected too much to be left alive. Which is exactly what Watson wanted.
At long last, Moran would finally make his move tonight.
And Watson would be ready for him.
Author: Maestress83
Rating: PG
Universe: Granada AU
Character(s): Doctor Watson, Sebastian Moran, Inspector Lestrade
Relationships/Pairing: None
Summary: Watson's patience finally pays off.
Content Warnings: None
Word Count: 184
Author's Notes: Sequel to Forbearance. Written in response to JWP 2015 #6 (Quotation Prompt) on Watson's Woes. "Imitate the actions of a tiger." --Shakepeare, Henry V
For three years Watson had carefully hunted the hunter. The patience he had lost with the Yard, he regained with tracking Holmes' second most dangerous man in London. He had watched him, waited for him to make a mistake.
And when the unwitting Lestrade smugly walked him through the Ronald Adair murder scene, Watson knew he had made it at last.
The courtroom had their laugh at the doctor playing at policework, "speculating" about soft-nosed bullets and gun types and bullet velocities. But the most important man in the room hadn't joined in, and while outwardly the good doctor appeared embarrassed, inwardly he felt nothing but grim satisfaction. He had him.
He had tethered his bait and set his trap, just like his prey would have done if he were still bagging tigers in India. He could feel the baleful glare from his cruel blue eyes, even at a distance. Doctor Watson knew or suspected too much to be left alive. Which is exactly what Watson wanted.
At long last, Moran would finally make his move tonight.
And Watson would be ready for him.