Fic for rodlox: The Countdowns Series
Dec. 12th, 2016 08:00 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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holmesticeTitle: The Countdowns Series
Recipient:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rodlox
Author:scandalbaby
Verse: Elementary/Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Joan Watson/Sally Donovan, BBC!Greg Lestrade, Marcus Bell & Elementary!Sherlock Holmes
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some language
Summary: This is a world in which most people have a timer on their wrist to count down until they meet their soul mate. Both Joan and Sally, however, have rather given up hope of meeting theirs, until a cross jurisdictional case lands them smack in each others path.
Authr's Notes: Hi,rodlox! Thank you for allowing me to try something a little different than what you asked for in your sign-up. When I saw you didn't mind allowing Sally Donovan in your fic, I had to ask if I could write my pet ship of Joan Watson/Sally Donovan, and I was so happy you said yes! I was originally going to do one long story, but due to RL issues I ended up writing you a series. It focuses mostly on the beginning of the Joan/Sally relationship, and it revolves around a case (and I made sure everyone was civil to everyone else, except to INTERPOL people) and if you like it I have plans of continuing it after Holmestice. It's also a soulmate AU, based on an idea from silentpeaches on Tumblr ("It’s been a busy week and after finally having some time to yourself, you just happened to look at your soulmate clock and see that it’s already at 00:00:00:00 and you don’t know when that happened because you don’t religiously check your clock either"). The series is going to continue after this, BTW, with mentions of other ships and stuff, but this is the start of it.
One thing: it's set after what I know of season 4 of Elementary and what's rumored to be in series 4 of Sherlock (just the vague "ending" feeling) so there's mentions of both Holmes/Moriarty and Holmes/Fiona as well as oblique but not spoilery series 4 stuff for Sherlock.
Story #1
A Highly Anticipated Arrival
“Cross-jurisdictionals. Have to love ‘em,” Greg muttered as he and Sally collected their bags at JFK International Airport.
Sally nodded her head in agreement. Not that she necessarily minded getting the chance to leave London, but there was usually a hassle and headache involved with working with another set of cops on a case. A territorial pissing match, in most cases. Especially when they realized they had to deal with a female Detective Sergeant. That usually went over quite well, she thought bitterly to herself. But she’d worked hard for her position and she wasn’t about to let an old boys club stand in her way of doing a good job and closing a case.
And what a case this was. Human trafficking was involved, and so not only were they being pulled in to deal with the NYPD because of the dead bodies that had been shipped from New York to London, but INTERPOL was involved as well, which was going to make it a headache and a half. But she was going to do her part, and do it well, and that was that. She was more than competent at what she did, even when Holmes had butted in, and she was going to prove it now.
Once they got to the exit they saw a young black man holding a sign that said “Lestrade & Donovan” and moved over to him. He gave them a wide and genuine smile. “You don’t look anything like what Holmes described,” he said.
“Other Lestrade,” Greg said with a wry smile. “There were two of us.”
“You have a Holmes, too?” Sally asked, her eyes wide.
“You have a Holmes?” the man asked, surprised.
“Yes, Sherlock,” Sally said.
“Same here,” the man said. “He have a Watson?”
“John,” Greg said.
“Now see, there’s a difference,” the man said. “We have a Joan.” He lowered the sign and held out his hand. “And he has Gregson and me. I’m Detective Marcus Bell.”
Greg shook his hand, and then Sally did as well. “Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” Greg said.
“Call me Marcus,” he said. “Case like this, better to be on a first name basis.” He gestured to the car he was standing in front of. “Let me help you guys with your bags and we can drop them off at your hotel before we head to the station. The INTERPOL liaison is being an ass and wants me to bring you there as soon as you guys arrive. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, though.”
Sally gave him a relieved grin. She had the feeling there wouldn’t be as much of a territorial pissing contest here, at least between the NYPD and them. INTERPOL might be another matter, but she had the feeling they had allies with Detective Bell and Detective Gregson. Hopefully they would have the same with the Holmes and Watson here.
It was strange to think that there could be another Sherlock Holmes in the world. She was used to her Holmes, the arrogant arse who had been less of one recently, before he’d gone off to deal with this newest matter that had taken his attention. She was used to her Watson, whom she had seen less of since he had become a husband and father. Truth be told, she was used to seeing more of Molly these days, more of Wiggins. Not that they were bad substitutes, but it wasn’t the same as Holmes and Watson. She wondered if it would be a shock to see a new Holmes and Watson duo, especially if Watson was a woman.
Almost as if by reflex, she glanced at the small numbers on the inside of her wrist, the countdown there. Everyone had them; everyone had a soul mate, for the most part. There were some who did not, like her Holmes; his wrists were completely bare. John’s countdown had stopped when he had met the woman who would be his wife; everyone had been shocked when Molly had agreed to marry Tom because hers had not stopped when she met him. It was all such a complicated mess, this business with the numbers. Sally was so used to being disappointed after each and every date that she just stopped looking altogether.
But for some reason, her countdown was nearing its end.
At some point tonight, she’d meet her soul mate.
She wondered who it might be. Her own sexuality was rather fluid, though she wasn’t too open about it. She preferred men, but women appealed to her as well. She rather hoped it wasn’t a suspect. Knowing her luck, that would be the case. Her luck with romance had been shite over the last few years, long before her affair with Anderson. That had just been the biggest mistake in a long line of mistakes. She’d decided to take a break from relationships for a while after that, and it had honestly been the best choice. She’d gotten to figure out what she wanted, figure out who she was as a person, and if she never found her soul mate, well, she’d survive.
But it looked as though it was finally going happen.
She just wasn’t sure if it was going to be a good thing or not.
Story #2
A Series Of Thoughts
“So, will you tell me why we aren’t at the big meeting with Gregson, Bell, the inspectors from Scotland Yard and the jerks from INTERPOL?” Joan asked, moving the beam of the flashlight around as she followed Sherlock around the shipping containers that were forming a maze in the warehouse.
“Because, Watson, we were presented with a clue that we, as private consultants, can follow up on in the grey edges of legality that they cannot,” Sherlock said, looking at a number on a container and then moving forward. “It is vastly more important than yet another meeting.”
“But we’ll be working with the people from the Yard. We should at least meet them,” Joan said.
Sherlock scoffed. “You meet one Yarder, you’ve met them all. This Lestrade will be no different than the other one, who I had thought was different than the rest, but I was sorely mistaken.” There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice that Joan could note he was trying to cover up by sounding indifferent to it all, sounding blasé, but it didn’t quite work. She wasn’t going to comment on it. They didn’t talk about London, or his brother, or any of that. It was easier.
She simply followed him around, absently itching at the wrist with her soul mate counter on it. She hadn’t mentioned that it’s countdown was getting lower. She knew Sherlock’s had stopped when he had met Moriarty, and then restarted at her “death” and stopped again when he met Fiona, which was unusual, and he’d been obsessively reading everything he could in his spare time on everything about the soul mate counters. She wasn’t about to tell him hers was nearly down to zero and thankfully it was cold enough that long sleeves were fashionable so she could cover it up. The less he saw it, the fewer questions he would have. She didn’t want to be pestered about it.
She’d been perfectly content to never have a soul mate, to be honest. When she was a surgeon, she was so concerned with her career that love had never really factored into things. She’d had a few somewhat serious relationships, but she knew eventually the men would find their real soulmates and they would leave and she would be okay with that. After the death of her patient and her change in careers, she’d seen people sink into the depths of addiction for all sorts of reasons, but the worst were those who lost their soulmates. She resolved then not to look for hers. She knew she wouldn’t sink so low as they had, but she didn’t want to deal with such an ache, with such a hole in her heart if, Heaven forbid, she outlived the person meant for her.
Especially after she met Sherlock. She saw what knowing Moriarty was one of his soulmates did to him, knowing he was tied to her, and still knowing he had another one out there. The way he was with Fiona, though...it gave her hope. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she got her own soul mate.
But she worried what would happen to him if he lost Fiona. She really hoped he didn’t fall down into that deep, dark hole again where no one could pull him back out. He didn’t deserve that.
A triumphant “A-ha!” pulled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to Sherlock to see him standing in front of a shipping container, presenting it to her as if it were a priceless work of art. “Yeah?” she asked.
“Our scene of crime,” he said with a wide smile on his face.
She shined her flashlight over the shipping container and spotted flecks of what could be red paint or could be dried blood on it, and then pressed the flashlight into Sherlock’s hand and pulled out her cell phone. “Who do you think will be happier to get out of that meeting, Gregson or Bell?”
“Bell, but tell him to bring Gregson and the Yarders. I think we should stay on their good side, I suppose.” He held the flashlight over her mobile screen. “Tell them to come up with an excuse to leave the INTERPOL interlopers at the office. Let them be on the outside for once.”
Joan grinned a bit at that as she dialed Bell’s number. Hopefully they’d all get along. Well, maybe all of them except the INTERPOL guys. Those guys were first class assholes. Worse than the FBI. Any chance she could get to ditch them, the better. She put the phone to her ear once she pulled up Bell and then gave Sherlock a grin. “Hey, Marcus? We’ve got a surprise for you...”
Story #3
A Fated Meeting
The area was swarming with uniformed cops, members of the forensic crime scene unit, and what seemed like a million other people Sally hadn’t been introduced to yet, but she found herself riveted by the sight of the “New York Holmes,” as Marcus had called him in an aside to her and Greg, and his assistant. There was a sense of fluid partnership that, in some ways, was missing with her Holmes and Watson. It seemed a true partnership, a true friendship. They had a very real understanding of each other, and it showed. There was no grandstanding, as her Holmes was very much capable of, and when this Holmes tried, Joan was quick to shut him down.
She might be in love.
Not with Holmes, though.
With Joan.
She had never felt such an admiration for a woman in her life as she did for Joan Watson, with the way she handled herself with grace and poise and a quick wit. It was clear she had the respect of every person on the site, even the arses from INTERPOL, who had figured out the game after all, and when they did get snippy it just took a glare from her to get them to settle into line. Oh, this woman was the most powerful and amazing woman she had ever seen in the history of her career in Scotland Yard, and she was a consultant.
She wanted to worship her and take lessons in how to be that brilliant.
Finally Joan stripped off her gloves and walked away from the scene of crime and over to her, giving her a wide smile. “You must be Detective Sergeant Donovan,” Joan said, holding out her hand. “I’ve been looking forward to working with you.”
“With me?” Sally asked, surprised.
“I heard about you, when I was in London,” she said. “And from Kitty Winter?”
Sally smiled at the familiar name. “Kitty was a good person. I didn’t know you knew her.”
“We were well acquainted,” Joan said. “I thought when she said she’d done some work for Lestrade she meant the other Lestrade, but now I realize she meant this one. Which is good.” She looked down and realized she was still holding Sally’s hand and let go. Sally looked up and saw there was a faint flush to Joan’s cheeks, which struck her as odd. “So you have your own Holmes?”
She nodded. “And our own Watson, too, though ours is a man.”
“I see,” Joan said. “Wonder why I haven’t heard about them.”
“Well, Sherlock...our Sherlock, I mean...has been taking care of things for his brother Mycroft on a large scale basis, I think. Involving a criminal mastermind.”
Joan pursed her lips. “My Sherlock has a brother named Mycroft,” she said. “He’s not a chef?”
Sally shook her head. “Low ranking government official, supposedly, though I think that’s shite. It’s probably just a cover for a much higher position.”
Joan tilted her head slightly. “The criminal mastermind...wouldn’t be a woman named Jamie, would it? Went by Irene Adler for a time?”
“Oh no,” Sally said, shaking her head again. “James Moriarty. Goes by Jim. Irene Adler was a whole different person, a dominatrix.”
Joan shook her head. “I feel like I’ve stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone,” she said.
“Why is that?” Sally asked, frowning.
“Jamie’s last name is Moriarty,” Joan said. She crossed her arms. “I get the feeling we should go have a stiff drink and then a chat. Because this all sounds really weird. Too coincidental to be true.”
Sally looked over at the scene of crime. “Can we leave?” she asked.
“Sherlock’s got this part of the case wrapped up,” Joan said, waving her hand. “Chances are he’ll take everyone back to the station and dazzle them with a brilliant answer, and he’ll wake me up at four in the morning with the breakthrough, and you guys will get to go home tomorrow night. I think they can do without us for a bit.”
Sally bit her lip and then happened to look down at her wrist, her eyes widening. 00:00:00. Her timer had stopped.
Joan Watson was her soul mate.
She looked back up and then nodded towards Greg. “Let me go tell Greg, alright? You’re a consultant, but...”
Joan nodded. “I get it.”
Sally moved away from Joan, slightly bewildered. No wonder she had felt such a strong pull towards the woman. No she was wondering if it was at all mutual, if Joan felt the same strong pull towards her. Would she be that lucky?
She got to Lestrade and tapped his shoulder. He looked over at her. “Yeah, Sal?”
“Look at my wrist,” she said quietly, holding it out between them.
He glanced down and then back up, his face carefully not betraying any emotion. “Who’s the lucky person?”
She allowed herself a small smile. “Joan Watson. She says her Sherlock is liable to talk our ears off and suggested a drink to compare just how closely her experiences with her Holmes compares with our experience with our Holmes.”
“So if you don’t get back to your hotel room tonight I shouldn’t worry?” he said, giving her a small smirk.
“Not going to shag my soul mate the first night I meet her, boss,” she said, nudging him slightly. “Can I go?”
“Yeah, go on, go,” he said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Thanks, Greg,” she said. She moved away and then back towards Joan. “I’ve been given permission to scape having my ear talked off by an over-eager consultant.”
“Lucky me,” Joan said with a grin. “There’s this place I like that has good food, too. Let’s go there; I think it’s going to be a long evening.”
“I hope,” Sally said with a grin as they walked away from the others. That was an understatement, of course, but it was true all the same.
Story #4
A Friendly Late Evening Conversation
The brownstone was nearly dark when she let herself in after midnight, save for one light in the kitchen. She knew he had waited up for her to talk.
Wonderful.
Not that her evening had gone badly. It had gone the opposite of badly, actually. If it had been a date she’d have immediately started planning for a second or maybe even a third one. Joan wasn’t the type to have really a considered a woman as a potential partner but there was something about Sally that made her feel completely at ease in a way no one else had. She couldn’t think of a time she’d felt so relaxed or...happy.
She wanted Sally to stay here for a while but she knew if anything Sherlock would have the case wrapped up within a matter of days, if not hours, and there would be no reason for it. Ships passing in the night, that would be all they would be, and that was a thought that saddened her and put a damper on the evening, and if Sherlock made her dwell on that she might resort to smacking him upside the head or punching him in the arm and making sure it hurt.
She went into the kitchen and saw that Sherlock had the good kettle full of water and the good tea set out. Not the one he used for English tea; no, it was one of the Japanese tea sets when they wanted green tea. And he had set it all up for a traditional Japanese tea service. It was almost like he knew she would want something calm tonight.
He began to serve them tea at the counter, which was the only thing abnormal about it all. “She’s your soul mate, you know,” he said when he was done.
Joan looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” she asked.
He nodded towards her wrist. “Look at your wrist. I check your wrist when you’re asleep and I knew you’d meet your soul mate tonight, and even while I was addressing the imbeciles from Interpol and Gregson and Marcus and Lestrade, I knew that when you went off to talk to Detective Sergeant Donovan your timer would have run out.”
Joan gave him a mild glare and pulled back her sleeves to look at her wrist, seeing that it indeed did read 00:00:00. She let the sleeves of her shirt and coat fall back and then slowly picked up her cup, blowing off the steam of her tea. “We’re going to be separated by an ocean again as soon as you solve this case,” she said quietly.
“I can put it off for a few days,” he said.
Joan looked at him. “What?”
“The killer has already left. He’s not in the United States or in England, but he’ll be back in four days. He needs to retrieve the last of his payment for his wicked deeds. There are other people we need to catch, and that will keep us busy enough, and thus give you and your Detective Sergeant time to get to know each other better and worry about that ocean a little later.” Sherlock picked up his own cup. “I may not seem like a romantic, but there is a little warmth left in my dry, shriveled heart.”
“That’s bull,” Joan said with a smile. “Like you really have a dry, shriveled heart. You are such a bad liar.”
Sherlock gave her a small grin. “Perhaps that was a small understatement.” He took a sip of his tea. “There have been many soul mates who have been through worse than having an ocean separate them. I am sure the two of you will come up with an adequate solution.”
“That’s if we even like each other,” Joan said.
“You were at the pub for four ours. How strong was the urge to go to Donovan’s hotel room instead of coming back home?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. Joan bit her lip and then gave a small laugh. “My point exactly. There is a very mutual attraction, I believe. You will overcome hardships, and you will be fine. I do not have faith in much, but with all of the research I have done in this matter, I have faith in the way the soul mate bond works. Even when it’s not convenient, it is always true.”
He smile turned sympathetic. “You still miss her?”
He nodded. “I do, though I try not to. She will forever be my soul mate. We are linked for eternity. He had more tea. “I can’t bring myself to hate her, even after all she’s done.”
Joan set her tea down and set a hand on his arm, squeezing sympathetically. “Maybe one day it will sort itself out.”
“Perhaps.” He nodded to her tea. “Enjoy your tea and then rest. We have a busy day’s work ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Alright,” she said, removing her arm and picking up her tea again. The two stood there in comfortable silence, sipping their tea, and she was glad that she had him in her life, even if it was inconvenient at times.
Story #5
A Most Interesting Beginning
They took their time working the case, getting all the underlings involved in the job as they waited for the killer to make his return to New York and the nasty surprise of three different policing agencies waiting for him at the farm upstate. It was especially satisfying watching the man try to run, and seeing Holmes trip him into falling flat on his face in a puddle of horse manure, his pristine white suit ruined.
It was with some satisfaction to all involved that this event signaled the end of the case, but there was sadness as well. There had been a real sense of camaraderie between the Yarders, the NYPD and their consultants, and they had worked well together, especially in opposition to the INTERPOL agents. Even Sherlock begrudgingly admitted that not everyone from Scotland Yard was imbecilic, and that he would be sorry to see them go back to London.
But he knew he was not as sorry as Joan was to see Sally leave.
As Joan and Sally hung back, watching the ranting and raving suspect be dragged towards the waiting police cars by people trying to hold their breaths, Joan leaned towards Sally and said, “I always thought he was full of shit,” she said.
Sally snorted slightly and then laughed. “Oh, no, love. He’s just covered in it.” She turned to Joan and gave her a wide smile. “I feel for Tobias and Greg. They have to go with him. We should do something nice for them.”
“We should,” Joan said. She looked over at Sherlock, who was talking to Marcus but making discrete waving motions with his hands towards them. “I think we’re being told to go off on our own, though.”
“Oh?” Sally asked.
Joan moved a hand to the back of her neck. “Have you...have you looked at your wrist, by any chance?”
Sally nodded. “I have.”
“And your timer...it stopped the night we met?” Joan asked.
“It’s been a bit of a busy week,” Sally said, teasing. “But yes, I noticed. You did too?”
Joan nodded. “I should have brought it up, but you’re right, it’s been a busy week,” she said. “And we should have gone about this all differently, getting to know each other properly and all that, and--”
Sally moved over and leaned in, kissing Joan’s cheek, just barely brushing the corner of her mouth. “Did you know Scotland Yard has a clause where if you meet your soul mate while on a case away from London, you can take two weeks time when the case is over to get to know them properly, so long as they aren’t the one who committed the crime?”
“Oh, really?” Joan said, giving her a wide smile as she turned to look at her. “That’s a very good policy to have. I wonder if the NYPD has a similar one.”
Sally nodded. “They should. But anyway, I already put in for the time off and Greg verified that my timer stopped and that you were my soul mate. It got approved yesterday. I thought I would bring it up when the case officially was wrapped up.”
“I see,” Joan said. She reached over for Sally’s hand, a bit hesitantly. “So we’ll have some time together after all to really get to know each other?”
“Yes,” Sally said. “And maybe I can get to know why you love this city so much. I mean, I haven’t seen much of it so far. A personally guided tour would be lovely.”
“I would enjoy giving you this personally guided tour,” Joan said. “Did you have any idea of when you would like to start?”
“Perhaps with dinner tonight?” Sally suggested. “You'd have to pick the restaurant because I don’t know the best places around here, but I think after the amount of takeaway that’s been treated to me I feel the need to repay the kindness with a few meals.”
“I didn’t buy all that takeout,” Joan said with a laugh as they started to head to a car as people who didn’t need to remain at the scene started to leave.
“Well, I like you the best so you get the benefit of my kindness,” Sally said with a smile, squeezing her hand.
“I like the sound of that,” Joan said, moving closer. As they moved closer to the cars, both of them had the feeling this was the beginning of a beautiful and interesting relationship.
Recipient:
rodloxAuthor:
scandalbabyVerse: Elementary/Sherlock
Characters/Pairings: Joan Watson/Sally Donovan, BBC!Greg Lestrade, Marcus Bell & Elementary!Sherlock Holmes
Rating: PG
Warnings: Some language
Summary: This is a world in which most people have a timer on their wrist to count down until they meet their soul mate. Both Joan and Sally, however, have rather given up hope of meeting theirs, until a cross jurisdictional case lands them smack in each others path.
Authr's Notes: Hi,
rodlox! Thank you for allowing me to try something a little different than what you asked for in your sign-up. When I saw you didn't mind allowing Sally Donovan in your fic, I had to ask if I could write my pet ship of Joan Watson/Sally Donovan, and I was so happy you said yes! I was originally going to do one long story, but due to RL issues I ended up writing you a series. It focuses mostly on the beginning of the Joan/Sally relationship, and it revolves around a case (and I made sure everyone was civil to everyone else, except to INTERPOL people) and if you like it I have plans of continuing it after Holmestice. It's also a soulmate AU, based on an idea from silentpeaches on Tumblr ("It’s been a busy week and after finally having some time to yourself, you just happened to look at your soulmate clock and see that it’s already at 00:00:00:00 and you don’t know when that happened because you don’t religiously check your clock either"). The series is going to continue after this, BTW, with mentions of other ships and stuff, but this is the start of it.One thing: it's set after what I know of season 4 of Elementary and what's rumored to be in series 4 of Sherlock (just the vague "ending" feeling) so there's mentions of both Holmes/Moriarty and Holmes/Fiona as well as oblique but not spoilery series 4 stuff for Sherlock.
A Highly Anticipated Arrival
“Cross-jurisdictionals. Have to love ‘em,” Greg muttered as he and Sally collected their bags at JFK International Airport.
Sally nodded her head in agreement. Not that she necessarily minded getting the chance to leave London, but there was usually a hassle and headache involved with working with another set of cops on a case. A territorial pissing match, in most cases. Especially when they realized they had to deal with a female Detective Sergeant. That usually went over quite well, she thought bitterly to herself. But she’d worked hard for her position and she wasn’t about to let an old boys club stand in her way of doing a good job and closing a case.
And what a case this was. Human trafficking was involved, and so not only were they being pulled in to deal with the NYPD because of the dead bodies that had been shipped from New York to London, but INTERPOL was involved as well, which was going to make it a headache and a half. But she was going to do her part, and do it well, and that was that. She was more than competent at what she did, even when Holmes had butted in, and she was going to prove it now.
Once they got to the exit they saw a young black man holding a sign that said “Lestrade & Donovan” and moved over to him. He gave them a wide and genuine smile. “You don’t look anything like what Holmes described,” he said.
“Other Lestrade,” Greg said with a wry smile. “There were two of us.”
“You have a Holmes, too?” Sally asked, her eyes wide.
“You have a Holmes?” the man asked, surprised.
“Yes, Sherlock,” Sally said.
“Same here,” the man said. “He have a Watson?”
“John,” Greg said.
“Now see, there’s a difference,” the man said. “We have a Joan.” He lowered the sign and held out his hand. “And he has Gregson and me. I’m Detective Marcus Bell.”
Greg shook his hand, and then Sally did as well. “Pleasure to meet you, Detective,” Greg said.
“Call me Marcus,” he said. “Case like this, better to be on a first name basis.” He gestured to the car he was standing in front of. “Let me help you guys with your bags and we can drop them off at your hotel before we head to the station. The INTERPOL liaison is being an ass and wants me to bring you there as soon as you guys arrive. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, though.”
Sally gave him a relieved grin. She had the feeling there wouldn’t be as much of a territorial pissing contest here, at least between the NYPD and them. INTERPOL might be another matter, but she had the feeling they had allies with Detective Bell and Detective Gregson. Hopefully they would have the same with the Holmes and Watson here.
It was strange to think that there could be another Sherlock Holmes in the world. She was used to her Holmes, the arrogant arse who had been less of one recently, before he’d gone off to deal with this newest matter that had taken his attention. She was used to her Watson, whom she had seen less of since he had become a husband and father. Truth be told, she was used to seeing more of Molly these days, more of Wiggins. Not that they were bad substitutes, but it wasn’t the same as Holmes and Watson. She wondered if it would be a shock to see a new Holmes and Watson duo, especially if Watson was a woman.
Almost as if by reflex, she glanced at the small numbers on the inside of her wrist, the countdown there. Everyone had them; everyone had a soul mate, for the most part. There were some who did not, like her Holmes; his wrists were completely bare. John’s countdown had stopped when he had met the woman who would be his wife; everyone had been shocked when Molly had agreed to marry Tom because hers had not stopped when she met him. It was all such a complicated mess, this business with the numbers. Sally was so used to being disappointed after each and every date that she just stopped looking altogether.
But for some reason, her countdown was nearing its end.
At some point tonight, she’d meet her soul mate.
She wondered who it might be. Her own sexuality was rather fluid, though she wasn’t too open about it. She preferred men, but women appealed to her as well. She rather hoped it wasn’t a suspect. Knowing her luck, that would be the case. Her luck with romance had been shite over the last few years, long before her affair with Anderson. That had just been the biggest mistake in a long line of mistakes. She’d decided to take a break from relationships for a while after that, and it had honestly been the best choice. She’d gotten to figure out what she wanted, figure out who she was as a person, and if she never found her soul mate, well, she’d survive.
But it looked as though it was finally going happen.
She just wasn’t sure if it was going to be a good thing or not.
A Series Of Thoughts
“So, will you tell me why we aren’t at the big meeting with Gregson, Bell, the inspectors from Scotland Yard and the jerks from INTERPOL?” Joan asked, moving the beam of the flashlight around as she followed Sherlock around the shipping containers that were forming a maze in the warehouse.
“Because, Watson, we were presented with a clue that we, as private consultants, can follow up on in the grey edges of legality that they cannot,” Sherlock said, looking at a number on a container and then moving forward. “It is vastly more important than yet another meeting.”
“But we’ll be working with the people from the Yard. We should at least meet them,” Joan said.
Sherlock scoffed. “You meet one Yarder, you’ve met them all. This Lestrade will be no different than the other one, who I had thought was different than the rest, but I was sorely mistaken.” There was a tinge of bitterness in his voice that Joan could note he was trying to cover up by sounding indifferent to it all, sounding blasé, but it didn’t quite work. She wasn’t going to comment on it. They didn’t talk about London, or his brother, or any of that. It was easier.
She simply followed him around, absently itching at the wrist with her soul mate counter on it. She hadn’t mentioned that it’s countdown was getting lower. She knew Sherlock’s had stopped when he had met Moriarty, and then restarted at her “death” and stopped again when he met Fiona, which was unusual, and he’d been obsessively reading everything he could in his spare time on everything about the soul mate counters. She wasn’t about to tell him hers was nearly down to zero and thankfully it was cold enough that long sleeves were fashionable so she could cover it up. The less he saw it, the fewer questions he would have. She didn’t want to be pestered about it.
She’d been perfectly content to never have a soul mate, to be honest. When she was a surgeon, she was so concerned with her career that love had never really factored into things. She’d had a few somewhat serious relationships, but she knew eventually the men would find their real soulmates and they would leave and she would be okay with that. After the death of her patient and her change in careers, she’d seen people sink into the depths of addiction for all sorts of reasons, but the worst were those who lost their soulmates. She resolved then not to look for hers. She knew she wouldn’t sink so low as they had, but she didn’t want to deal with such an ache, with such a hole in her heart if, Heaven forbid, she outlived the person meant for her.
Especially after she met Sherlock. She saw what knowing Moriarty was one of his soulmates did to him, knowing he was tied to her, and still knowing he had another one out there. The way he was with Fiona, though...it gave her hope. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if she got her own soul mate.
But she worried what would happen to him if he lost Fiona. She really hoped he didn’t fall down into that deep, dark hole again where no one could pull him back out. He didn’t deserve that.
A triumphant “A-ha!” pulled her out of her thoughts, and she turned to Sherlock to see him standing in front of a shipping container, presenting it to her as if it were a priceless work of art. “Yeah?” she asked.
“Our scene of crime,” he said with a wide smile on his face.
She shined her flashlight over the shipping container and spotted flecks of what could be red paint or could be dried blood on it, and then pressed the flashlight into Sherlock’s hand and pulled out her cell phone. “Who do you think will be happier to get out of that meeting, Gregson or Bell?”
“Bell, but tell him to bring Gregson and the Yarders. I think we should stay on their good side, I suppose.” He held the flashlight over her mobile screen. “Tell them to come up with an excuse to leave the INTERPOL interlopers at the office. Let them be on the outside for once.”
Joan grinned a bit at that as she dialed Bell’s number. Hopefully they’d all get along. Well, maybe all of them except the INTERPOL guys. Those guys were first class assholes. Worse than the FBI. Any chance she could get to ditch them, the better. She put the phone to her ear once she pulled up Bell and then gave Sherlock a grin. “Hey, Marcus? We’ve got a surprise for you...”
A Fated Meeting
The area was swarming with uniformed cops, members of the forensic crime scene unit, and what seemed like a million other people Sally hadn’t been introduced to yet, but she found herself riveted by the sight of the “New York Holmes,” as Marcus had called him in an aside to her and Greg, and his assistant. There was a sense of fluid partnership that, in some ways, was missing with her Holmes and Watson. It seemed a true partnership, a true friendship. They had a very real understanding of each other, and it showed. There was no grandstanding, as her Holmes was very much capable of, and when this Holmes tried, Joan was quick to shut him down.
She might be in love.
Not with Holmes, though.
With Joan.
She had never felt such an admiration for a woman in her life as she did for Joan Watson, with the way she handled herself with grace and poise and a quick wit. It was clear she had the respect of every person on the site, even the arses from INTERPOL, who had figured out the game after all, and when they did get snippy it just took a glare from her to get them to settle into line. Oh, this woman was the most powerful and amazing woman she had ever seen in the history of her career in Scotland Yard, and she was a consultant.
She wanted to worship her and take lessons in how to be that brilliant.
Finally Joan stripped off her gloves and walked away from the scene of crime and over to her, giving her a wide smile. “You must be Detective Sergeant Donovan,” Joan said, holding out her hand. “I’ve been looking forward to working with you.”
“With me?” Sally asked, surprised.
“I heard about you, when I was in London,” she said. “And from Kitty Winter?”
Sally smiled at the familiar name. “Kitty was a good person. I didn’t know you knew her.”
“We were well acquainted,” Joan said. “I thought when she said she’d done some work for Lestrade she meant the other Lestrade, but now I realize she meant this one. Which is good.” She looked down and realized she was still holding Sally’s hand and let go. Sally looked up and saw there was a faint flush to Joan’s cheeks, which struck her as odd. “So you have your own Holmes?”
She nodded. “And our own Watson, too, though ours is a man.”
“I see,” Joan said. “Wonder why I haven’t heard about them.”
“Well, Sherlock...our Sherlock, I mean...has been taking care of things for his brother Mycroft on a large scale basis, I think. Involving a criminal mastermind.”
Joan pursed her lips. “My Sherlock has a brother named Mycroft,” she said. “He’s not a chef?”
Sally shook her head. “Low ranking government official, supposedly, though I think that’s shite. It’s probably just a cover for a much higher position.”
Joan tilted her head slightly. “The criminal mastermind...wouldn’t be a woman named Jamie, would it? Went by Irene Adler for a time?”
“Oh no,” Sally said, shaking her head again. “James Moriarty. Goes by Jim. Irene Adler was a whole different person, a dominatrix.”
Joan shook her head. “I feel like I’ve stepped into an episode of the Twilight Zone,” she said.
“Why is that?” Sally asked, frowning.
“Jamie’s last name is Moriarty,” Joan said. She crossed her arms. “I get the feeling we should go have a stiff drink and then a chat. Because this all sounds really weird. Too coincidental to be true.”
Sally looked over at the scene of crime. “Can we leave?” she asked.
“Sherlock’s got this part of the case wrapped up,” Joan said, waving her hand. “Chances are he’ll take everyone back to the station and dazzle them with a brilliant answer, and he’ll wake me up at four in the morning with the breakthrough, and you guys will get to go home tomorrow night. I think they can do without us for a bit.”
Sally bit her lip and then happened to look down at her wrist, her eyes widening. 00:00:00. Her timer had stopped.
Joan Watson was her soul mate.
She looked back up and then nodded towards Greg. “Let me go tell Greg, alright? You’re a consultant, but...”
Joan nodded. “I get it.”
Sally moved away from Joan, slightly bewildered. No wonder she had felt such a strong pull towards the woman. No she was wondering if it was at all mutual, if Joan felt the same strong pull towards her. Would she be that lucky?
She got to Lestrade and tapped his shoulder. He looked over at her. “Yeah, Sal?”
“Look at my wrist,” she said quietly, holding it out between them.
He glanced down and then back up, his face carefully not betraying any emotion. “Who’s the lucky person?”
She allowed herself a small smile. “Joan Watson. She says her Sherlock is liable to talk our ears off and suggested a drink to compare just how closely her experiences with her Holmes compares with our experience with our Holmes.”
“So if you don’t get back to your hotel room tonight I shouldn’t worry?” he said, giving her a small smirk.
“Not going to shag my soul mate the first night I meet her, boss,” she said, nudging him slightly. “Can I go?”
“Yeah, go on, go,” he said. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Thanks, Greg,” she said. She moved away and then back towards Joan. “I’ve been given permission to scape having my ear talked off by an over-eager consultant.”
“Lucky me,” Joan said with a grin. “There’s this place I like that has good food, too. Let’s go there; I think it’s going to be a long evening.”
“I hope,” Sally said with a grin as they walked away from the others. That was an understatement, of course, but it was true all the same.
A Friendly Late Evening Conversation
The brownstone was nearly dark when she let herself in after midnight, save for one light in the kitchen. She knew he had waited up for her to talk.
Wonderful.
Not that her evening had gone badly. It had gone the opposite of badly, actually. If it had been a date she’d have immediately started planning for a second or maybe even a third one. Joan wasn’t the type to have really a considered a woman as a potential partner but there was something about Sally that made her feel completely at ease in a way no one else had. She couldn’t think of a time she’d felt so relaxed or...happy.
She wanted Sally to stay here for a while but she knew if anything Sherlock would have the case wrapped up within a matter of days, if not hours, and there would be no reason for it. Ships passing in the night, that would be all they would be, and that was a thought that saddened her and put a damper on the evening, and if Sherlock made her dwell on that she might resort to smacking him upside the head or punching him in the arm and making sure it hurt.
She went into the kitchen and saw that Sherlock had the good kettle full of water and the good tea set out. Not the one he used for English tea; no, it was one of the Japanese tea sets when they wanted green tea. And he had set it all up for a traditional Japanese tea service. It was almost like he knew she would want something calm tonight.
He began to serve them tea at the counter, which was the only thing abnormal about it all. “She’s your soul mate, you know,” he said when he was done.
Joan looked at him with wide eyes. “What?” she asked.
He nodded towards her wrist. “Look at your wrist. I check your wrist when you’re asleep and I knew you’d meet your soul mate tonight, and even while I was addressing the imbeciles from Interpol and Gregson and Marcus and Lestrade, I knew that when you went off to talk to Detective Sergeant Donovan your timer would have run out.”
Joan gave him a mild glare and pulled back her sleeves to look at her wrist, seeing that it indeed did read 00:00:00. She let the sleeves of her shirt and coat fall back and then slowly picked up her cup, blowing off the steam of her tea. “We’re going to be separated by an ocean again as soon as you solve this case,” she said quietly.
“I can put it off for a few days,” he said.
Joan looked at him. “What?”
“The killer has already left. He’s not in the United States or in England, but he’ll be back in four days. He needs to retrieve the last of his payment for his wicked deeds. There are other people we need to catch, and that will keep us busy enough, and thus give you and your Detective Sergeant time to get to know each other better and worry about that ocean a little later.” Sherlock picked up his own cup. “I may not seem like a romantic, but there is a little warmth left in my dry, shriveled heart.”
“That’s bull,” Joan said with a smile. “Like you really have a dry, shriveled heart. You are such a bad liar.”
Sherlock gave her a small grin. “Perhaps that was a small understatement.” He took a sip of his tea. “There have been many soul mates who have been through worse than having an ocean separate them. I am sure the two of you will come up with an adequate solution.”
“That’s if we even like each other,” Joan said.
“You were at the pub for four ours. How strong was the urge to go to Donovan’s hotel room instead of coming back home?” Sherlock asked, raising an eyebrow. Joan bit her lip and then gave a small laugh. “My point exactly. There is a very mutual attraction, I believe. You will overcome hardships, and you will be fine. I do not have faith in much, but with all of the research I have done in this matter, I have faith in the way the soul mate bond works. Even when it’s not convenient, it is always true.”
He smile turned sympathetic. “You still miss her?”
He nodded. “I do, though I try not to. She will forever be my soul mate. We are linked for eternity. He had more tea. “I can’t bring myself to hate her, even after all she’s done.”
Joan set her tea down and set a hand on his arm, squeezing sympathetically. “Maybe one day it will sort itself out.”
“Perhaps.” He nodded to her tea. “Enjoy your tea and then rest. We have a busy day’s work ahead of us tomorrow.”
“Alright,” she said, removing her arm and picking up her tea again. The two stood there in comfortable silence, sipping their tea, and she was glad that she had him in her life, even if it was inconvenient at times.
A Most Interesting Beginning
They took their time working the case, getting all the underlings involved in the job as they waited for the killer to make his return to New York and the nasty surprise of three different policing agencies waiting for him at the farm upstate. It was especially satisfying watching the man try to run, and seeing Holmes trip him into falling flat on his face in a puddle of horse manure, his pristine white suit ruined.
It was with some satisfaction to all involved that this event signaled the end of the case, but there was sadness as well. There had been a real sense of camaraderie between the Yarders, the NYPD and their consultants, and they had worked well together, especially in opposition to the INTERPOL agents. Even Sherlock begrudgingly admitted that not everyone from Scotland Yard was imbecilic, and that he would be sorry to see them go back to London.
But he knew he was not as sorry as Joan was to see Sally leave.
As Joan and Sally hung back, watching the ranting and raving suspect be dragged towards the waiting police cars by people trying to hold their breaths, Joan leaned towards Sally and said, “I always thought he was full of shit,” she said.
Sally snorted slightly and then laughed. “Oh, no, love. He’s just covered in it.” She turned to Joan and gave her a wide smile. “I feel for Tobias and Greg. They have to go with him. We should do something nice for them.”
“We should,” Joan said. She looked over at Sherlock, who was talking to Marcus but making discrete waving motions with his hands towards them. “I think we’re being told to go off on our own, though.”
“Oh?” Sally asked.
Joan moved a hand to the back of her neck. “Have you...have you looked at your wrist, by any chance?”
Sally nodded. “I have.”
“And your timer...it stopped the night we met?” Joan asked.
“It’s been a bit of a busy week,” Sally said, teasing. “But yes, I noticed. You did too?”
Joan nodded. “I should have brought it up, but you’re right, it’s been a busy week,” she said. “And we should have gone about this all differently, getting to know each other properly and all that, and--”
Sally moved over and leaned in, kissing Joan’s cheek, just barely brushing the corner of her mouth. “Did you know Scotland Yard has a clause where if you meet your soul mate while on a case away from London, you can take two weeks time when the case is over to get to know them properly, so long as they aren’t the one who committed the crime?”
“Oh, really?” Joan said, giving her a wide smile as she turned to look at her. “That’s a very good policy to have. I wonder if the NYPD has a similar one.”
Sally nodded. “They should. But anyway, I already put in for the time off and Greg verified that my timer stopped and that you were my soul mate. It got approved yesterday. I thought I would bring it up when the case officially was wrapped up.”
“I see,” Joan said. She reached over for Sally’s hand, a bit hesitantly. “So we’ll have some time together after all to really get to know each other?”
“Yes,” Sally said. “And maybe I can get to know why you love this city so much. I mean, I haven’t seen much of it so far. A personally guided tour would be lovely.”
“I would enjoy giving you this personally guided tour,” Joan said. “Did you have any idea of when you would like to start?”
“Perhaps with dinner tonight?” Sally suggested. “You'd have to pick the restaurant because I don’t know the best places around here, but I think after the amount of takeaway that’s been treated to me I feel the need to repay the kindness with a few meals.”
“I didn’t buy all that takeout,” Joan said with a laugh as they started to head to a car as people who didn’t need to remain at the scene started to leave.
“Well, I like you the best so you get the benefit of my kindness,” Sally said with a smile, squeezing her hand.
“I like the sound of that,” Joan said, moving closer. As they moved closer to the cars, both of them had the feeling this was the beginning of a beautiful and interesting relationship.
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Date: 2016-12-15 06:19 pm (UTC)But that's a side point -- I love the idea of Joan and Sally finding each other, and both seeing each other. They both absolutely deserve to be properly appreciated, and it's lovely seeing them do that here.
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Date: 2016-12-19 01:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-19 02:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2016-12-19 06:51 am (UTC)>But she worried what would happen to him if he lost Fiona. She really hoped he didn’t fall down into that deep, dark hole again where no one could pull him back out. He didn’t deserve that.
methinks Jaime Moriarty and Sally will help you kick his butt as much as need be, Joan.
about the soul clock-checking...I think this time, just this once, Joan may forebear from threatening to have a chat with Sherlock about personal boundaries, particularly when one of the persons is sleeping.
its quite nice, Sherlock being a...not a cupid, but a...cupid facilitator/enabler? making the case longer, to help Joan's social life
(and there'd have been a days wait anyway to catch the baddie, so its not like he made anyones jobs harder, right?) :)
most enjoyable; thank you very much for this! and I'm pleased you enjoyed making this fic.
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Date: 2016-12-19 07:48 am (UTC)above all, its good to see here that both Joan and Sally get to be happy. not just because of all the shite they have to deal with, but because they deserve to be happy. (and they're awesome apart, and you show they're just as awesome together)
kudos to you!