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Tweak says, "We're not lost, Private, we're"

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

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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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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