July 2 - Roll the Dice
Title: Good Shot
Author: Pompey
Universe: BBC
Rating: PG
Warnings: none?
Word count: 175
Summary: Sherlock hasn’t deleted John’s actions from their first case together.
Prompt: July 2 - Roll the Dice
Tom Myers pressed the business end of his revolver even harder against Sherlock’s temple. “Drop the gun, Doctor.”
The only movement from John was that his body sort of stilled, as though every molecule of him was concentrating, Sig still trained on Myers. His eyes moved a fraction of a centimeter to meet Sherlock’s. And Sherlock remembered their first case together.
That’s a crack shot you’re looking for, but not just a marksman -- a fighter. His hands couldn’t have shaken at all so clearly he’s acclimatized to violence . . . he’s got a strong moral code. You’re looking for a man probably with a history of military service, nerves of steel . . .
John’s voice in his head protested, You risk your life to prove you’re clever . . . Because you’re an idiot.
No. I’d be an idiot not to trust you. Sherlock gave John a lightning-fast smile and closed his eyes for a second, the closest he could get to nodding his permission.
John’s lips parted. “Vatican,” he said, “cameos.”
Author: Pompey
Universe: BBC
Rating: PG
Warnings: none?
Word count: 175
Summary: Sherlock hasn’t deleted John’s actions from their first case together.
Prompt: July 2 - Roll the Dice
Tom Myers pressed the business end of his revolver even harder against Sherlock’s temple. “Drop the gun, Doctor.”
The only movement from John was that his body sort of stilled, as though every molecule of him was concentrating, Sig still trained on Myers. His eyes moved a fraction of a centimeter to meet Sherlock’s. And Sherlock remembered their first case together.
That’s a crack shot you’re looking for, but not just a marksman -- a fighter. His hands couldn’t have shaken at all so clearly he’s acclimatized to violence . . . he’s got a strong moral code. You’re looking for a man probably with a history of military service, nerves of steel . . .
John’s voice in his head protested, You risk your life to prove you’re clever . . . Because you’re an idiot.
No. I’d be an idiot not to trust you. Sherlock gave John a lightning-fast smile and closed his eyes for a second, the closest he could get to nodding his permission.
John’s lips parted. “Vatican,” he said, “cameos.”