Fanfic. Seeing Things As They Are (girl!Watson & Lestrade)
Seeing Things As They Are (Sherlock (BBC), Jennifer Watson & Lestrade. I don't own these characters.) Weeks after the events in The Great Game, Sherlock resurfaces, and Jen is left to look for elusive clues.
They find Sherlock unconscious, but alive.
Jen lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.
She hadn't had any doubts that Sherlock was alive; the man knew enough to disappear and never be found and he clearly hadn't wanted someone to find him. It didn't change the fact that she wanted to wring his neck for faking his own death just to take revenge on Moriarty. He hadn't even succeeded (yet) and she knew that would drive him crazy as soon as he woke up in hospital.
It would serve him right.
She doesn't ride in the ambulance to the hospital with him. He's unconscious, and while it might be the only time that she could sit with him and not be insulted, there's also some evidence here. Something that might lead them in the right direction.
She's not Sherlock Holmes, but she's picked up a trick or two.
She's not sure how long she's crouched down, staring at the pavement when she feels someone come up behind her. Two options come to mind - Lestrade or Donovan. The sound of approaching shoes, heavy footfall, no sound of a heel, leads her to suspect Lestrade.
An assumption confirmed when he says her name.
"Doctor Watson?"
She turns her head, shielding her eyes against the glare of the spotlights being used to illuminate the 'crime' scene. Behind Lestrade she can see the flashing blue and red lights of a police car, and the silhouettes of police officers interviewing witnesses. "Detective Inspector Lestrade."
He offers her a hand; a chivalrous offer that would normally set her on edge, but from what she's seen of Lestrade it appears to be genuine and not condescending. She accepts it and allows him to half-pull her to her feet. "You got here quick."
Jen shrugged. "Sherlock sent me a text, asking me to meet him here." She shoved her hands in her jean pockets. "He was unconscious when I arrived."
"Did he say anything else?"
She can practically see the mental notes he's compiling in his head.
"What do you think?" she asks, and it's rhetoric. She digs her mobile out of her bag and hands it to him. The most recent message was from Sherlock in his usual cryptic style.
She turns her back while he reads the message, staring back at the same spot she'd been looking at. There's nothing she can see that suggests that Moriarty was even here. As much as she wants to believe that he was, she can't even be sure of that either. It's frustrating to know that as soon as Sherlock recovers he'll return here and find the piece of the puzzle that eludes her so effectively.
"Could be dangerous?"
Jen turned at Lestrade's voice. "Sorry?"
He holds her phone up, the screen facing her. "Why did he write 'could be dangerous?' at the end."
Jen's smile is tight-lipped. "Why do you think?"
Lestrade's eyes narrow slightly. "So, Sherlock tells you it could be dangerous and you head straight into an unknown situation?" His chivalrous nature was rearing it's head again; this time it's an unwelcome guest between them.
She's not sure how much Lestrade knows about her, beside her status as Sherlock's 'assistant' and doctor. She's not sure how much she wants him to know.
"I can handle myself, Detective Inspector," she replies lightly, as subtle a rebuke as she can manage.
His careful mask returns. "Do you really believe that this Moriarty character?"
"Well, that's the easy answer," she points out, taking back her phone, careful not to give anything away when their hands meet for longer than necessary.
He meets her eyes, his gaze evaluating her. "Your hand is shaking."
"What?" His comment shocks her back to the moment and she becomes aware that her hand is in fact trembling, so slightly that she'd not even been aware of it. "Oh, that. Right."
She shoves her hands and phone back into her pockets.
"He drew you in to his world, didn't he?"
She smiles. "He drew you in, too, if I recall correctly."
He doesn't have an answer for that.
They find Sherlock unconscious, but alive.
Jen lets out a breath she hadn't known she was holding.
She hadn't had any doubts that Sherlock was alive; the man knew enough to disappear and never be found and he clearly hadn't wanted someone to find him. It didn't change the fact that she wanted to wring his neck for faking his own death just to take revenge on Moriarty. He hadn't even succeeded (yet) and she knew that would drive him crazy as soon as he woke up in hospital.
It would serve him right.
She doesn't ride in the ambulance to the hospital with him. He's unconscious, and while it might be the only time that she could sit with him and not be insulted, there's also some evidence here. Something that might lead them in the right direction.
She's not Sherlock Holmes, but she's picked up a trick or two.
She's not sure how long she's crouched down, staring at the pavement when she feels someone come up behind her. Two options come to mind - Lestrade or Donovan. The sound of approaching shoes, heavy footfall, no sound of a heel, leads her to suspect Lestrade.
An assumption confirmed when he says her name.
"Doctor Watson?"
She turns her head, shielding her eyes against the glare of the spotlights being used to illuminate the 'crime' scene. Behind Lestrade she can see the flashing blue and red lights of a police car, and the silhouettes of police officers interviewing witnesses. "Detective Inspector Lestrade."
He offers her a hand; a chivalrous offer that would normally set her on edge, but from what she's seen of Lestrade it appears to be genuine and not condescending. She accepts it and allows him to half-pull her to her feet. "You got here quick."
Jen shrugged. "Sherlock sent me a text, asking me to meet him here." She shoved her hands in her jean pockets. "He was unconscious when I arrived."
"Did he say anything else?"
She can practically see the mental notes he's compiling in his head.
"What do you think?" she asks, and it's rhetoric. She digs her mobile out of her bag and hands it to him. The most recent message was from Sherlock in his usual cryptic style.
She turns her back while he reads the message, staring back at the same spot she'd been looking at. There's nothing she can see that suggests that Moriarty was even here. As much as she wants to believe that he was, she can't even be sure of that either. It's frustrating to know that as soon as Sherlock recovers he'll return here and find the piece of the puzzle that eludes her so effectively.
"Could be dangerous?"
Jen turned at Lestrade's voice. "Sorry?"
He holds her phone up, the screen facing her. "Why did he write 'could be dangerous?' at the end."
Jen's smile is tight-lipped. "Why do you think?"
Lestrade's eyes narrow slightly. "So, Sherlock tells you it could be dangerous and you head straight into an unknown situation?" His chivalrous nature was rearing it's head again; this time it's an unwelcome guest between them.
She's not sure how much Lestrade knows about her, beside her status as Sherlock's 'assistant' and doctor. She's not sure how much she wants him to know.
"I can handle myself, Detective Inspector," she replies lightly, as subtle a rebuke as she can manage.
His careful mask returns. "Do you really believe that this Moriarty character?"
"Well, that's the easy answer," she points out, taking back her phone, careful not to give anything away when their hands meet for longer than necessary.
He meets her eyes, his gaze evaluating her. "Your hand is shaking."
"What?" His comment shocks her back to the moment and she becomes aware that her hand is in fact trembling, so slightly that she'd not even been aware of it. "Oh, that. Right."
She shoves her hands and phone back into her pockets.
"He drew you in to his world, didn't he?"
She smiles. "He drew you in, too, if I recall correctly."
He doesn't have an answer for that.