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Sherlock Holmes ([info]reasonbackward) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2010-09-02 19:37:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:!closed, john watson, kate bennet, noah bennet, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Anita Bennet (with guest appearances by Noah Bennet & John Watson)
WHAT: Sherlock is bored and resorted to shooting the wall. Tiny persons are not happy with this. And then the lights go out.
WHEN: During this & before this
WHERE: The hallway between Sherlock & Bennet's apartments
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

The ironic thing was that Sherlock had stopped shooting the wall when it was requested of him. He just didn't see what the big deal was with him playing target practice with a bit of old plaster that was only just getting nicked as it was and felt the need to get stroppy about people making such a big deal out of it. Honestly, if he had been in a better mood or far more occupied, he wouldn't have even taken the time to try and start the arguments that he had. But as it was, he was bored senseless and even a pointless argument was better than mentally atrophying.

Throwing himself back on the sofa with a belabored sigh, Sherlock deposited the gun on the end table behind his head and smacked his hands down over his face. What he wouldn't give for some relief from this tedium, but as it was, Sherlock was not willing to give Moriarty the satisfaction of admitting that he had already crumbled under the pressure of having absolutely nothing to do. He'd already attempted the police station, but their list of unsolved cases hadn't taken up more than two hours of his time, at the most. So here he was, reduced to shooting at walls (so much more plainer than Mrs. Hudson's gaudy monstrosities who hardly really deserved the abuse) and arguing with temperamental parents.

Such was the life of the Great Sherlock Holmes.


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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 12:09 am UTC (link)

Anita was a smart little girl. Maybe not a child prodigy (although her parents likely thought otherwise, as parents were wont to do) but she definitely was intelligent. Bright eyed, attentive, and quick to learn, she was the sort of child who had caught on to things much sooner than most her age.

Take reading for example. She had learned to read by the age of three. Thanks to the use of phonics, she could sound out just about any word she came across, even if she didn't know it. Which came in handy on those rare occasions when she managed to snag a PDA from one of her parents and poke around on the message boards. She never replied - writing wasn't as easy as reading and, besides, that would get her busted - but she liked knowing who was out there and the things they were saying to her mommy and daddy.

So when she'd been unable to sleep due to the loud bangs coming from across the hall and had sneaked out of her room to find both of her parents engrossed in a conversation related to something on the PDA, she'd gotten curious. Her mommy had set her device down on the kitchen counter, she noticed, and as soon as her parents had moved into the living room to talk, the little girl wasted no time in picked it up and scrolling through the recent messages. A few seconds later she spotted the message that said she should go tell the mean man to stop making so much noise.

Anita decided to do just that.

Sneaking out wasn't easy but, with her parents engrossed in their conversation, she managed it. She kept the door cracked just in case and made her way across the hall with little fanfare. Sucking in a deep breath, the six-year-old exhaled slowly and, face scrunched up in what she hoped was a fierce look that screamed 'you better listen to me or else', she rapped her tiny knuckles against her neighbor's door then crossed her arms over her chest. Tapping the toes of one sock-clad foot against the ground, she waited for someone to answer.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 12:23 am UTC (link)
The knock on the door wasn't surprising. Sherlock was on his feet in a second, dressing gown flapping out around him as he stalked over to the door and flung it open, blinking at the empty space that he found until the sound of tapping drew his gaze downward, both eyebrows quirking at the sight. Well, this was the last thing he had been expecting, and it was certainly far more interesting than the vague threats of someone twice his size.

"May I help you?" Sherlock asked, his voice completely and totally unpatronizing as it might have been if it were any other adult standing there looking down at a rather determined looking five (six?) year old. No, he was addressing her exactly in the manner that he would have addressed anyone. After all, if she had went to the trouble of coming over here, he might as well give her the attention (and respect) that the action deserved.

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 12:29 am UTC (link)

Talking to strangers was against the rules. Her parents had told her that plenty of times before. It was dangerous and there were bad people who might hurt her and Anita wasn't really sure why but she knew enough to realize that it was true. She knew she was taking a big risk, talking to this man, but at the same time she didn't think he'd hurt her. He didn't seem bad. Just a little mean. And mean, while not all that pleasant, was something Anita was pretty sure she could handle.

Of course, she wasn't going to be mean to him. At least not right away. So rather than immediately jump into the riot act that was bouncing around inside her mind, the little girl instead thrust one hand out for him to shake, just like she'd seen the grownups do so many times before. "Hi," she said politely, although she didn't smile but instead stared somberly up at him. "My name's Anita Bennet. I live 'cross the hall and I need my rest because my mommy says when I don't get it that I get fussy sooner and then I don't get dessert after dinner and I really like dessert, so stop making so much noise so I can get my nap then get my dessert just like a good little girl."

A pause, long enough to draw in a breath, and the child tacked on a quick, "Please." It came out sounding more like an afterthought but at least she'd thought to say it. She just hoped the man would listen because, well, he was a lot taller than she'd thought he was going to be and, staring up at him, she realized she didn't really know for sure if he was good or not. Not to mention, if she'd managed to get herself in trouble with someone bad her daddy was going to be really mad at her.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 01:02 am UTC (link)
The formality in her stance was surprising, but Sherlock reached out to shake her hand all the same, listening to the request with the same thoughtfulness that he would give anything else. Things like that, however, usually didn't end with a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth while he tried his best to stifle it. The request was streamlined with clear reasoning and an ultimate goal in mind even if her parents' reasoning on the fact seemed to be faulty as denying someone sweets was hardly going to help them sleep better. If anything, it was going to cause anxiety that might prevent rest. But there was not point in explaining that right now.

"I think that can be arranged," Sherlock said, tilting his head forward. "Do you have any issue with me making noise when you're not attempting to rest?" Because, after all, that was the important question right now. He was sure if the timing was the only issue that he could easily postpone his frustration venting to some time more appropriate.

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 01:09 am UTC (link)

Anita shook his hand then let her arms fall to her sides. She offered him a sweet smile when he agreed, fully prepared to go back to her own apartment and tell her parents the good news. However then he asked a question and Anita paused. Her forehead creased as she frowned lightly, head tilting a bit to the side in thought.

"That's okay," she finally agreed with a nod of certainty. Absently she scratched at an itchy spot on the side of her nose, practically going cross-eyed as she tried to watch her own finger, then looked back up to Sherlock when she was done. "Mommy says I wake up with the roosters which I think means real early even 'fore the sun, sometimes. And my naps are when the little hand's on the eleven and the big one's pointing straight up, and again when the little hand's on the five and the big one's still pointing up."

Hesitating, she dropped her voice to a stage whisper and explained, "I got a little late start today. Daddy let me watch a show with him so long as I was really quiet and laid down 'side him." She grinned a bit, clearly believing she'd gotten away with something pretty interesting, and rocked back on her heels a little to peer more easily up at him without having to crane her neck quite so much.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 01:32 am UTC (link)
Noticing that she was having trouble looking at him, Sherlock didn't hesitate as he squatted down to be more on her level. After all, it wasn't really fair for him to loom when she could hardly increase her height to match his, and he could easily reduce his. "I'll be sure to avoid the hour before and after both of these times, then," He said, grinning slightly. "And if I get anymore complaints, I'll say that I have express permission," He said, tapping the side of his nose as if they had a secret now.

It was amazing, really, what children found to be interesting and important, and while things in their lives were often so narrowed that they held in esteem things that most people wouldn't find important at all. But even the same, it also allowed them to spot the more important things that adults, whose views widen significantly with age, missed in the stupidest of ways.

"Well, you don't seem fussy at all to me."

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 01:47 am UTC (link)

Anita blinked in faint surprise when Sherlock squatted down in front of her. Most grown-ups didn't bother with things like that. Most of them either sat down in a chair or just stood there, being tall and big and making her neck hurt by staring up at them. Slowly, a smile stole across her features that was genuine, rather than the hesitant one she'd worn thus far.

"That's 'cuz I'm not fussy," she stated in a matter-of-fact tone. "Mommy says I get that way but I don't think I do. I just-" Whatever else the child had been about to say was cut off by the rather abrupt darkness that suddenly surrounded them. Instantly Anita paused, waiting for whoever had turned off the lights to turn them back on. One, two, three seconds went by and there were still no lights. Worst yet, where normally there would be at least some light if the switch had just been flipped for the hallway, this time there was nothing. No street lights shining in from the windows. No lights coming out of Sherlock's apartment. It was like someone had pulled a big, black blanket over the whole place.

"Where's the lights?" she finally asked, voice tight with worry. She blinked, one arm raising as she reached out in front of her for the man who had been there just a second earlier. "Turn them back on!" she added as she finally managed to brush her fingers across the front of his shirt. Without hesitating, without even really thinking, Anita surged forward and wrapped her small arms around his neck. Burying her face in his shoulder and practically clinging to him, she breathed out a tearful, "The dark's scary and I don't like it and I WANT THEM BACK RIGHT NOW!!!!"

Anita began to tremble as she suddenly clamped her mouth shut following the terrified shriek, trying in vain to fight the tears that were threatening to fall as the girl was suddenly faced with one of her worst fears: the dark.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 02:12 am UTC (link)
Sherlock was surprised by the tiny frightened bundle suddenly clinging to him, but he attempted not to be phased by it, wrapping his arms around her and lifting her up as he turned back into the flat with a goal in mind, "John," Sherlock called, "do we have any torches? Or candles! I know we have candles! Where did we put them?" Because obviously John kept track of the things that he didn't have any reason to remember. That was what he was for, to remember the mundane that Sherlock needed to delete from his hard drive...like the necessity to occasionally eat and sleep.

And right now, he was the one who might know exactly where to find the implements that were necessary to stop the small child currently clinging to him from being afraid. And quite frankly, the sooner, the better.

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[info]hisbestman
2010-09-03 02:57 am UTC (link)
It probably said a lot about them and the life they lived that John's first thoughts were to wonder if Sherlock had kidnapped a child for the sake of experiments. In fact, he was about to point out to Sherlock that experimenting on children was wrong and that he really should put this one back where she belonged, when he realised the girl was clinging to his friend and crying. And Sherlock was asking questions about torches and candles. Where did they keep the torches? Because they did have torches and so didn't need to resort to candles to get by.

"Would you like me to take her for you?" he asked, noting how uncomfortable Sherlock looked at having a small emotional human in his arms, even as he moved to the closet to get the torches. He grabbed two and turned them on, adding some light to the room. It helped a little, at least.

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 03:10 am UTC (link)

Anita was distantly aware that she was being carried somewhere. She was equally aware that she probably shouldn't go because it would worry her parents if they couldn't find her. However it was dark, she was scared, and Sherlock was the only grown-up around. Plus he wasn't bad and he really wasn't all that mean, either. So she decided he was as safe as just about anyone else might be, and wasn't a complete stranger, besides. Which meant he would, of course, keep anything bad from happening to her. It made sense to her, at least.

Raising her head and glancing toward the strange, new voice that joined in the conversation, Anita's grip around Sherlock's neck tightened when the stranger offered to take her from him. She shook her head and buried her face again, finally peering back out into the room only once there was a modicum of light to be found. With a quiet sniffle, the six-year-old stared at John with wide eyes before looking back to the man still holding her.

"Why'd the lights go out? They're not s'posed t'do that. They're s'posed to stay on so the bad things can't get us," she said, sounding just as displeased about this latest turn of events as she felt.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 03:33 am UTC (link)
"I don't think that will be necessary, John," Sherlock said, almost unconsciously tightening his grip on the girl in a reassuring move. He might not have been entirely comfortable with this situation, but he also figured that it was better that he suffer some discomfort than leave the poor, terrified girl on her own in this situation. A fear of the dark was a good, logical one and spoke volumes about the perceptiveness of the child (it was much better to be afraid of the dark than ridiculous things like monsters under the bed or spiders), and Sherlock hoped that this was only temporary as it was.

"I'm sure they'll come back on soon enough," Sherlock reassured, reaching out and taking one of the torches from John and offering it to Anita with a slight smile. "Until then, you hold onto this. It'll keep the bad things away until the rest of the lights come back to drive them out."

Turning his attention back to John, Sherlock tilted his head slightly, "You could only find two? I'm sure there's some candles around here somewhere. No reason to just sit in the light of two torches when we've got candles."

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[info]hisbestman
2010-09-03 07:42 am UTC (link)
There was just something incredibly all too strange about seeing Sherlock, of all people, holding a child. It seemed entirely at odds with the man he knew, and it was compounded by the fact that Sherlock looked practically at ease with the girl. He himself wasn't good with children, but he managed well enough. It was just one of the perils of being a doctor, he supposed. Still, this wasn't quite the reaction he had imagined Sherlock would have to a child and he was proud and confused in equal measure. "Just a blackout," he told the girl. "A problem with the electricity. It should sort itself out soon enough." He tried to suppress a smile at Sherlock's explanation of how the torch would drive the bad things away and failed utterly. This was all far too amusing.

"Of course," he said, the darkness hiding the way he rolled his eyes. "I'll just see to that then." Sometimes he did want to remind Sherlock that he wasn't actually his dogsbody, and he might have done so if it weren't for the girl. Instead, he just went off in search of candles and more torches.

He'd not even been gone a minute when there was a knock to the door frame and Noah stepped into the apartment. "Ani, honey," he said with a small smile, his voice chiding but not angry, "when someone says you should address the issue with them yourself, it doesn't mean you should wander off without telling me or your mother. Ty v poryadke, vozlyublennyĭ?" To some people, switching to Russian mid-conversation might have been odd, particularly when the conversation was with their six year old daughter who clearly wasn't Russian. But Noah Bennet could hardly be accused of being normal and, considering his daughter was an omnilinguist, had to develop some interesting methods of calming Anita down. Plus it would undoubtedly confuse Sherlock, which really made anything better in his book. He was still annoyed about the shooting thing.

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-03 08:04 am UTC (link)

Anita had just started to relax the tiniest of bits, mostly thanks to a combination of Sherlock and the flashlight he'd given her, and had just started to consider wriggling her way out of the man's arms when an all-too familiar voice suddenly spoke. Instantly the girl tensed, then relaxed, the swallowed audibly as she turned to look at her father. Her eyes were wide, her knuckles white as she gripped the light in her hands. Then he spoke to her in Russian and, while she was still a little scared at the dark all around them and worried that she was in trouble, she couldn't help but relax at least a little.

"YA v poryadke, papa. YA v bede?" she replied. There was a touch of wariness in her tone but her voice was calm when she looked to Sherlock in the next breath and added, in English of course, "You can put me down now."

A brief pause, barely a quarter of a second, and the girl added a heartfelt and softly spoken, "Thank you."

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-03 08:28 am UTC (link)
Sherlock had often prided himself on telling the character of a person by observing the behavior of their children. While adults could beguile and hide their darker secrets behind a veil of secrecy, charm, and good manners, children were completely without guile and wore their personalities on their sleeve without remorse, hesitation, or guilt. And while, perhaps, Sherlock's initial assessment of the man standing in front of him simply from the conversations that had passed between them was of someone overly engrossed in violence, even in the dark he could see that there was a reason that he needed to be up close and personal with a person in order to conduct his business.

There were so many things that text could mask (another reason he preferred to text, in all truth) and so much more that a person could hide when they could selectively reveal themselves rather than being all there to read and observe. And there was a great deal more to this fellow than met the immediate eye...and probably a great deal more than he could tell in the dark as well.

"Think nothing of it," Sherlock said, nodding to Anita, a ghost of a smile still on his features. "I appreciate someone willing to take control of a situation."

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[info]thecompanyman
2010-09-03 09:10 am UTC (link)
Noah, for the most part, completely ignored Sherlock in favor of Anita. Only that wasn't entirely true. He never completely ignored anyone. His focus was on his daughter, that was certain, but he was fully aware of everything Sherlock did. He was even aware of the flatmate off getting supplies. It was the sort of thing that had kept him alive the past twenty-odd years. Noah was observant, and it was a skill that served him well. "Net, kotenok, ty ne v bede. YA volnovalas, ne serdites. YA obeshchayu."

He picked Ani up as soon as she reached him, settling her against his side. "Vasha mama boyalas tozhe," he told her, pressing a kiss to her cheek. "Poĭdem domoĭ i uvidet yee. Da?" He looked at Sherlock now, his expression considering. "Thank you for keeping Ani calm."

John walked back into the room and looked between the two men for a moment. He nearly asked what was going on, then thought better of it. He probably didn't want to know. "I found a few more torches," he told Sherlock, slightly awkwardly. "And candles."

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[info]livingonlove
2010-09-05 04:20 am UTC (link)

Once on her feet, Anita glanced briefly toward her father. Then she looked back to Sherlock, giving him a sweet smile when he didn't immediately dismiss her or talk down to her. She liked him, she decided. He was a lot nicer than he seemed at first. Impulsively, as most children are wont to do, Anita gave him a hug around his waist. Peering up at him with another smile, she let him go and made her way back to Noah.

She nodded when her father spoke, not seeing much point in responding. She was glad she wasn't in trouble and she did want to go see her mom. She also really wanted the power to come back on but knew, while her dad could do a lot of things, even he couldn't manage that much. So she simply rested her cheek against Noah's shoulder, one hand wrapped around his shoulder to hold on and the thumb on her other hand sliding into her mouth. It was an old habit, one she'd very nearly broken but, ever so often would regress back. Especially when tired or scared.

Pulling her thumb from her mouth with a wet 'pop' sound when John came back into the room, she smiled and waved at him. "My daddy's gonna take me home now," she stated with a matter-of-fact nod. "It was nice to meet you both!" And with that, Anita turned and buried her face in her father's shoulder, tiny fingers clinging to his shirt and reassuring herself that, despite the dark, things were going to be okay.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-05 02:44 pm UTC (link)
The hug was surprising, to say the least. Sherlock Holmes was a man who wasn't used to overt affection from anyone for any reason. Mycroft had learned years before that his own personal brand of fussing was not appreciated (even if it had probably saved him on several occasions that Sherlock was not willing to admit had ever happened), and while Mrs. Hudson's nagging and John's prodding were their own special types of affection, they were muted and definitely didn't end in spontaneous hugs.

But Sherlock smiled despite his surprise, raising a hand in an awkward wave, before turning back to Noah and nodding to the other man. There really wasn't anything that he could add to this, and while there were questions that he wanted to ask, they could wait until the lights were back on. Granted, Sherlock wasn't really looking too forward to the pair leaving as he was sure that John wasn't ever going to let him live this down.

Better to change the subject before he could bring it up. Turning back to John, Sherlock snatched up the candles, "Good man," He said before going to seek out some matches. Why had he stopped carrying a lighter again?

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[info]hisbestman
2010-09-08 06:37 pm UTC (link)
John nodded to the girl, slightly confused by the whole situation. "It was nice to meet you too, Anita," he told her. "Have a nice evening, both of you...and hopefully the power thing will sort itself out soon enough." He liked the girl, in spite of how he generally wasn't comfortable with children. She seemed smart, and very sweet besides.

"So," he said once they were gone and Sherlock had taken the candles, a small smile on his face, "apparently the trick to earning the respect of the great Sherlock Holmes is to be under the age of seven?" And it was simultaneously amusing and just a little sad. After all, he was well past seven.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a lighter and handed it to Sherlock. "Easier than matches," he said by way of explanation. It wasn't that he smoked, because he didn't, or that he was an aspiring arsonist, but he'd learned in his association with Sherlock that it really was best to be prepared for any eventuality, even ones that might end in setting things on fire.

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[info]reasonbackward
2010-09-09 10:38 pm UTC (link)
"Children are often more perceptive than adults," Sherlock said, taking the lighter that was offered to him as he set up the candles in a strategic way to give them the most lighting coverage. "Once they reach the so called 'age of reason', they develop the same blocks and filters which prevent adults from either not noticing or not voicing those things which prove to be the most important," Sherlock said, looking up at John in the low light of the flickering candles.

"It does not hurt that they have absolutely no ability to lie or deceive effectively," Sherlock said with a slight quirk of a grin. "And that is what makes most adults so horribly unbearable."

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