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Hacked	By : SoftPurpleSherlockian Category: S through Z > Sherlock (BBC) > Sherlock (BBC) Views: 4354 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 2
Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock or any of the characters and am making no money off of this story.

Chapter List
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Inside the security of Detective Inspector Lestrade's office, John allowed himself to relax. The walk down the corridor seemed to take forever, and he could feel Sherlock's eyes practically burning holes into his back. Thankful for the distraction that Greg was about to provide the detective with, he excused himself to the bathroom. John knew that he wasn't going to be much help, and that it was really Sherlock that was needed, not him, so his presence in the office would not be missed, or even noticed.
"I'll be back in a minute" he started, but neither of the men glanced his way as they poured over the case in front of them. John felt a twinge of dejection and turned to make his way out the door. Only when he was safely in the confines of the small bathroom did he reveal any physical signs of the war that was raging just beneath the surface. He walked over to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face as he studied the reflection staring back at him. John knew he had to handle this delicately; he couldn't do anything that was overly suspicious or that would let Sherlock know that he was now privy to the emails being sent from his account. As he started to hatch together a plan, a thought struck him: how am I going to see the e-mails? I can't keep it open all the time while I'm at work. There was one option, and John really hated to use it, but the more he pondered his dilemma, the more he realised there wasn't much of a choice. All of the outgoing messages were going to have to be forwarded to a separate e-mail address, and he was going to have to make sure that there was no trace of them being sent through cyber space. He groaned as he dialled the number on his mobile.
"Hello Mycroft. Listen, I need a small favour."
*

*

*
Back in Lestrade's office, Sherlock was still pouring over crime scene photographs. The young artist, Alexander Jean, had been murdered in his flat. Cause of death was blunt force trauma caused by a single blow to the back of the head, that much was obvious, however, the police had yet to turn up a murder weapon and Sherlock had very little to go on.
"I'll need to visit the crime scene", he informed Lestrade.
"Yeah alright, you can go tomorrow."
"No, that won't work. I'll go there from here."
"Look, Anderson's there and I promised him you wouldn't show up tonight. He's still a bit put out about the last time."
Sherlock gave Lestrade one of his rare real smiles as he recalled the string of profanities Anderson had shouted at him as he'd had his ignorance pointed out to him at the last case. There was nothing about the conversation that was particularly different from any of the others the two men regularly exchanged at crime scenes, Anderson had made it known that the detective's presence was a nuisance, and Sherlock stated every single thing that Anderson had overlooked, calling out his stupidity after every missed clue. By the end of the evening, the forensic detective was so embarrassed that he shouted at Sherlock until he and John reached the other end of the street.
"Fine, tomorrow," Sherlock huffed, making sure the inspector understood how much of an inconvenience it was.
He was so tuned to John's presence that even with his back was towards the door, he felt the doctor enter the small space before he heard him.
"All sorted then?" came a question from the shorter man now leaning against the door frame watching the two others work.
"Ah! John, you're back." Sherlock glanced up and took in the sight of his friend casually resting in the doorway and focused on keeping his voice steady before finishing "I need you to go to Donovan's desk and get me the medical report, Molly should have sent it by now. I doubt it will tell us anything we don't already know, but best make sure." Shifting his eyes back to the photographs laid out in front of him, Sherlock willed himself to focus on the task at hand and not on the man five feet away from him. He was doing quite well and was pleased with himself until John's voice came from directly behind him, causing him to internally jump.
"No."
"I'm sorry? No?"
"No, I'm not going to get the report from Donovan. There's nothing wrong with your legs, Sherlock. You're perfectly capable of getting it yourself."
"John, I'm really not in the mood to row with her tonight."
"Then I suppose you'd better behave."
Sherlock felt his nostrils flare and tried to read John's face, a feat that proved to be utterly useless. The doctor's expression remained unchanged and Sherlock couldn't read anything behind the unwavering stare he was receiving. John seemed to be his usual, friendly self, and yet… there was something that Sherlock couldn't quite place.
Greg, who had been watching the exchange, chimed in by saying "I'll just buzz Sally to bring the file in here."
"Nope," John glanced up at Greg. "Sherlock can go and get it."
"John, this is pointless. You heard Lestrade, Donovan can bring it to us."
The doctor, keeping an unreadable face, gave the taller man in front of him a pointed stare before opening his mouth to say "Sherlock, go and get the report."
The detective straightened his back and took a few steps away from John, and found himself heading in the direction for the door, his body responding to the command before his mind even had time to process it. He was practically to the hall before John's voice called behind him.
"And Sherlock?"
He turned to face the doctor, not meeting his eyes and mentally kicking himself for the way his body had reacted. "Yes?"
"Behave."
Sherlock swallowed and nodded. He knew that John was referring to his behaviour towards a one Ms. Sally Donovan, but he shivered at the word as he replayed it over and over in his head as he made the walk to Donovan's desk. Behave, behave, behave. John couldn't have known how one little word would have affected him so, it was likely that the man was just irritable after a full day at the clinic. The doctor didn't usually mind doing the foot work for Sherlock when they were working on a case, but there were times where he pushed back and made it very clear that he was not the detective's errand boy, days where he was in a bad mood or was having a rough afternoon. Today seemed to be one of those days. Sherlock pushed the thought out of his head as he neared Donovan's desk.
"Hello, freak."
Sherlock gave a curt nod in the woman's general direction. "Sergeant Donovan. I believe you have something for me."
"What do you need with the ME's report ?"
Sherlock let out an irritated sigh "obviously Lestrade wants me to take a look at it."
"Well aren't you the lucky one?" came the sneer from the other side of the desk.
He could feel the insults threatening to spill from his mouth and bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to draw blood as he swallowed the words back down. He could hear John in his head, behave, and Sherlock's body was fighting against his brain to comply. Instead of telling the young woman exactly what he thought at the moment, he bit down harder and held out his palm where he patiently waited for her to hand him the report. When it became apparent to her that he was not going to indulge her in a verbal sparring match, Sally let out and annoyed huff and placed the ME's report into the detective's waiting hand. No sooner than he had the file did he turn and march back down the hall and into Lestrade's office where the two men were laughing over something from the previous evening. Lestrade was sitting comfortably in his chair with his legs propped up, and John was standing at the corner, hands clasped behind his back as he rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet and he let out a hearty laugh. He was clearly at ease around Lestrade and Sherlock felt the corner of his mouth twitch up at the scene in front of him.
"Oi, Sherlock. Got what you needed?" Greg asked from behind the oak desk.
Sherlock simply waved the file in his hand. "Right then, we better be off. John?"
John knew better than to push his luck, he had to be smart about this and take small steps. So instead of arguing, he simply nodded his head and gave Greg a polite goodbye before turning to walk out of the office, brushing against Sherlock in an effort to take the lead down the corridor, forcing the detective to follow him out into the London streets.
- 12
- 13
- 14
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