"The Day the Music Lived" 1/?
anonymous
July 21 2011, 13:30:04 UTC
The following takes place on Wednesday, September 7, 2011. The timeline of Sherlock's second series may make this AU, but there you go.
Warning: General descriptions of a murder scene.
I'm working on my Americanisms. Any corrections are welcome. Thanks!
*****
John Watson knocked once on Detective Inspector Lestrade's office door and then let himself into the office. Lestrade sat staring at his computer screen, fingers tangled in his hair mid-sweep, wide-eyed.
"The autopsy reports are in. It's just as we feared," Lestrade murmured, his normally rasping voice gone deeper and rougher with emotion. "They weren't drugged or knocked out. They were awake and aware for every last second."
His hand fell from his temple to his mouth, then lingered at his chin. After a heartbeat, he exhaled on a heartfelt, "JesusJohn shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Um, excuse me. Didn't mean to interrupt
( ... )
"The Day the Music Lived" 4/?
anonymous
July 21 2011, 16:23:53 UTC
They were halfway through a truly amazing meal when Sherlock dashed in, breathless, to kiss Mrs Hudson's cheek and assume his place at her table
( ... )
"The Day the Music Lived" 5/?
anonymous
July 21 2011, 18:37:57 UTC
*****
After the rice pudding, Mrs Hudson said, "I do hope you gentlemen will indulge an old lady's whim and join me for a time in the sitting room. It's the reason for tonight's dinner, you see. A celebration, of sorts. Everything's set up."
As they moved to the other room, John heard Sherlock ask Lestrade in a hushed tone, "The results from the father's blood tests?"
"Not back yet."
"Once you know what he was taking, check his friends' medications."
"You think he was mixing?"
"His prescriptions, old and new, and theirs. It's likely."
Lestrade's hand brushed Sherlock's arm as he passed, a silent gesture of gratitude. The consulting detective wasn't even working this decidedly boring case, John knew, but Sherlock must have been following its progress, all the same
( ... )
"The Day the Music Lived" 6/7
anonymous
July 22 2011, 10:43:19 UTC
They heard "Not Fade Away" and "That'll Be The Day" and "Rave On," "Maybe Baby" and "Everyday" and "It Doesn't Matter Anymore," "Peggy Sue" and "Rock Around With Ollie Vee" and "Blue Days, Black Nights."
Lagers and wine had been replenished by the time Mrs Hudson dedicated a song to John.
I don't know why I love you, baby, I guess it's just because You're so square - Baby, I don't care.
John spluttered in good-natured outrage while Lestrade laughed and Sherlock smirked and both offered unsolicited commentary on his many jumpers.
Jumpers which, incidentally, John happened to like, thank you very much
( ... )
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Warning: General descriptions of a murder scene.
I'm working on my Americanisms. Any corrections are welcome. Thanks!
*****
John Watson knocked once on Detective Inspector Lestrade's office door and then let himself into the office. Lestrade sat staring at his computer screen, fingers tangled in his hair mid-sweep, wide-eyed.
"The autopsy reports are in. It's just as we feared," Lestrade murmured, his normally rasping voice gone deeper and rougher with emotion. "They weren't drugged or knocked out. They were awake and aware for every last second."
His hand fell from his temple to his mouth, then lingered at his chin. After a heartbeat, he exhaled on a heartfelt, "JesusJohn shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Um, excuse me. Didn't mean to interrupt ( ... )
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"That bad?"
"You don't want to know."
Lestrade raised his eyebrows, as if to say that any distraction from his present preoccupation would be welcome.
"They finally got the testicles he wanted." With a wince, he added, "Cadaver's testicles. For his experiments."
Before his eyes, Lestrade paled. And then crossed his legs.
"Specifically, tests to determine how much pressure, rapidly or slowly applied, individual testes can withstand before ruptur-"
"Augh! Stop." Lestrade shuddered and raised a beseeching hand. "You're right. I don't want to know ( ... )
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After the rice pudding, Mrs Hudson said, "I do hope you gentlemen will indulge an old lady's whim and join me for a time in the sitting room. It's the reason for tonight's dinner, you see. A celebration, of sorts. Everything's set up."
As they moved to the other room, John heard Sherlock ask Lestrade in a hushed tone, "The results from the father's blood tests?"
"Not back yet."
"Once you know what he was taking, check his friends' medications."
"You think he was mixing?"
"His prescriptions, old and new, and theirs. It's likely."
"Ugly business," Lestrade sighed, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I'll check. Thanks."
Lestrade's hand brushed Sherlock's arm as he passed, a silent gesture of gratitude. The consulting detective wasn't even working this decidedly boring case, John knew, but Sherlock must have been following its progress, all the same ( ... )
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Lagers and wine had been replenished by the time Mrs Hudson dedicated a song to John.
I don't know why I love you, baby,
I guess it's just because
You're so square -
Baby, I don't care.
John spluttered in good-natured outrage while Lestrade laughed and Sherlock smirked and both offered unsolicited commentary on his many jumpers.
Jumpers which, incidentally, John happened to like, thank you very much ( ... )
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(The comment has been removed)
An autumn or winter wedding will be fine. Nothing fussy, just a middle-aged policeman with a guitar for the music.
Una Stubbs as maid of honor.
I am SO THERE. Count me in. *hugs*
FYI, I now have a cleaned-up version posted here.
Thanks to you, from the bottom of my heart.
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The revised version is now up here.
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