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Sherlock Holmes (ifimnothungry) wrote in colligo_threads,
@ 2012-04-24 23:55:00

Entry tags:

gil grissom, sherlock holmes

WHO: Sherlock Holmes & Gil Grissom
WHAT: Sherlock Holmes witnesses a crime. Gil Grissom is on duty. Colligo criminals have the worst luck.
WHEN: April 24th; Late Evening
WHERE: Colligo Streets
RATING: PG
STATUS: In Progress

Sherlock had been leaving the flat every night since John had been sent back home. The first few evenings he had spent with Irene, thankful for the comforting presence that she offered and her willingness to let him reassuring himself that she wouldn't be taken away in the middle of the night by sharing the bed with her, and after that, it had just been a necessity to stay out of an empty flat and distract himself with something other than the substances that he'd sworn off in order to not disappoint those that he knew who remained here again. This evening, Sherlock had headed down to the shopping district, wandering through the shops and pubs that stayed open until the wee hours of the morning trying to find something which would catch his interest long enough to keep him entertained until he was exhausted and could head home and sleep without noticing how empty and quiet the flat seemed now. But after stepping out of the three pub of the evening and getting hit in the face by a puff of smoke from one of the nearby smokers, Sherlock was starting to feel his skin itch and his brain buzz, the distractions not keeping his brain nearly as occupied as it needed to be.

Pausing a moment, gaze shifting briefly to the small group of locals gathered on the curb puffing away at their cigarettes, Sherlock's willpower crumbled briefly. One cigarette wasn't going to kill him, and it was certainly better than turning to another harder.

Stepping over to the crowd, Sherlock questioned quickly whether he could bum one of their cigarettes, taking the one offered to him thankfully along with the light from another of the group and took a deep drag off of it, exhaling in deep satisfaction as he turned his gaze out towards the road, scanning the rest of the gathered crowd before his eyes locked on a pair of guys outside one of the cinemas, the tension and anger in their body language, their threatening postures, and the second before one of them turned, hand heading towards his pocket, Sherlock was moving to grab the shoulders of the people gathered around them to try and pull them back off the street.

Several shots rang out a moment later, echoed by the screams of people on the street as the area emptied as people scattered, leaving the body of one man laying splayed out on the ground as the other with the gun, drenched in the backsplash of the bloody of the man he'd just gunned down, turned on his heel and fled.

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-26 12:37 am UTC (link)

After receiving assurances over the walkie talkie that someone was on their way to collect the evidence, and taking the weapon from the other man with a nod of his head and every intention of doing precisely what was already being suggested, Grissom bagged the gun and set it down alongside the articles of clothing. There was something about the way the other man was handling himself that was making it more and more clear with each passing second that he was not a typical eye witness. Figuring he had some time to kill before the lab tech he'd called for arrived, he decided to sort it all out on the spot.

"So you're obviously well-versed in police protocol and know you're way around a crime scene," he commented idly. "I'm speculating you're likely some sort of consultant for the department, because if you were an officer you would have identified yourself by your badge number and if you were part of the lab I would have seen your file in the database."

Sitting back on his heels, not willing to get too far from the blood splattered clothing so as to avoid contamination before someone could arrive to see they were bagged with the proper equipment, he asked plainly, "Are you going to tell me your name at some point or should I contact Mac and ask him instead?"

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-26 01:13 am UTC (link)

"Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock said, deciding it was probably best for him to stay in the dumpster for the moment lest he accidentally end up mussing things up by climbing back out before they were bagged and taken away. "It really was just a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time this evening," Sherlock said as he folded his hands together. "Or, rather, the right place. It really just depends on how this works out," Sherlock said as the crime scene tech arrived to take away the evidence that they'd recovered, giving Sherlock a bit of a glance before shaking their head and turning back to the job at hand.

Most of them had been on the job often enough when Sherlock was working with Mac so they were more than used to him and his tendency to do odd things.

"But you are right. I'm a consultant. You'll be able to find my name on a handful of cases," Sherlock said with a smile and a shrug. "Just doing my part to help out." As if that was all there was to it. But Sherlock was more than willing to give him any information he wanted if it kept him from calling Mac. He was more than certain that if he did that, he'd be run right off the scene.

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gruesomegrissom
2012-04-26 03:51 pm UTC (link)

Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock Holmes. If Grissom hadn't already seen a fair number of things that were beyond belief and yet very obviously real in the city already, the name would have shocked him much more than it did. Fortunately for the case he was working, as well as his own mind, he'd come across many other things that he'd always thought were fictional and, as much of a fan as he was of the man standing before him, was able to simply put this encounter into that very same category.

He could not, however, turn off his mind's ability to take the realization that Sherlock Holmes was in the city to the next logical place. Which was that there had to be a reason no one had told him they had someone as unquestionably brilliant on their roster to contact for the more intriguing cases. And the only thing Grissom could think that would cause that particular lack of foresight would be if no one was expecting Sherlock to step forward on any case Grissom was working.

There could be two reasons for that, he rationalized. The first - and most obvious - was the fact that he and Sherlock hadn't exactly hit it off when they'd first met upon his arrival in the city. So it was possible the consultant had made some statement that indicated he wouldn't work with him. However Grissom doubted that was the case. For if this was the real Sherlock Holmes, the man wouldn't care so much about who he was working with as the work itself. Which left him with the second most logical reason.

Sherlock wasn't supposed to be working on the cases.

Although there could be a plethora of reasons that might be the situation, Grissom frankly didn't care. For all that it mattered to him, Sherlock could have shot a suspect in the face mid-interrogation then burnt down the station in an effort to cover his tracks. There was absolutely nothing that was going to make him turn the man away when he not only wanted to help but clearly was an asset to the scene. No, to Grissom, all that mattered was providing a voice for the victim lying dead on the street half a block or so away and that voice was liable to be much louder, and unable to be refuted, if Sherlock was helping to add some volume to it. And the only way that could happen was is Grissom could honestly say he didn't know the man wasn't supposed to be helping out.

So rather than confront him, Grissom simply said, "It's nice to meet you." Then he rose to his feet and began to walk further down the alley to continue following his hunch on where the shooter and his accomplice had fled. He'd made it a handful of steps or so before he paused and glanced back at Sherlock with an inquisitive tip of his head.

"Well?" he asked curiously, "are you coming or not?" He rolled his eyes a bit when the lab tech began to rise to his feet to follow. "Not you," he said flatly. "I was talking to the man in the dumpster, obviously."

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ifimnothungry
2012-04-26 06:38 pm UTC (link)

When Mac had said that they had more in common than Sherlock had been willing to admit, Sherlock hadn't seen it. Of course, he'd also been rather seriously irritated by being actively dismissed at the time, and, being the petty one that he was in those sorts of situations, had merely assumed the worst. But standing in the dumpster, watching the man in front of him as the clear and familiar signs of a problem being worked out flickered over his face only to have the ultimate revelation come yet be concealed at the same time. Obviously he'd figured out what Sherlock had been hoping to not have become an issue. It was impossible for Sherlock not to be able to recognize the same sort of cognitive processes that he witnesses flashing across his own features and his brother's when such a situation arose. And as Sherlock watched him turn and walk towards the gunman's path of retreat, he was waiting for him to be escorted off the scene, but the singular fact that he, instead, asked if he was coming while simultaneously dismissing an underling pretty much settled it.

Mac was right. They were a lot more alike than he had initially realized.

Leaping out of the dumpster and taking careful care not to shed the bits still stuck to his clothes on anything vital, Sherlock rubbed his gloves together over the dumpster to get rid of the garbage that had insisted on sticking before moving to follow Grissom, "There are a limited number of areas back here where they could have stopped the car without it being seen," Sherlock said, frowning as he glanced around the alleyway. "But all they'd need is one."

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