docwithablog | storyline one.

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storyline one.

chronology -

00. word association w/ Sherlock

1. gen texting w/ Sherlock

2. the case of the missing first violinist w/ Sherlock

3. the case of the missing first violinist w/ Sherlock

4. the case of the missing first violinist w/ Sherlock

5. the case of the missing first violinist w/ Sherlock

6. texting w/ Sherlock

7. texting w/ Sherlock

8. texting w/ Sherlock

9. texts from last night w/ Sherlock

10. the case of the dying detective w/ Sherlock

11. the case of the dying detective w/ Sherlock

12. the case of the dying detective w/ Sherlock

13. the case of the great game w/ Sherlock

14. the case of the great game w/ Sherlock

15. texting w/ Sherlock

16. otherwordly w/ Sherlock

17. the case of the navel treatment w/ Sherlock

18. the case of the navel treatment w/ Sherlock

19. the case of the navel treatment w/ Sherlock

20. the case of the navel treatment w/ Sherlock

21. texting - part one | texting - part two w/ Sherlock

22. the case of the navel treatment w/ Sherlock

23. texting w/ Sherlock

24. the case of a scandal in belgravia w/ Sherlock

25. texting w/ Sherlock

26. the case of a scandal in belgravia w/ Sherlock

27. the case of a scandal in belgravia w/ Sherlock

28. the case of a scandal in belgravia w/ Sherlock

29. truth or dare w/ Sherlock

00. texts from last night w/ Sherlock

30. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

31. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

32. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

33. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

34. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

35. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

36. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

37. texting w/ Sherlock

38. the case of the devil's foot w/ Sherlock

39. the case of the devil's root w/ Sherlock

00. word association w/ Sherlock

00. texting w/ Sherlock

00. penny for your thoughts w/ Sherlock

40. midnight texting w/ Sherlock

41. interlude w/ Sherlock

42. interlude w/ Sherlock

43. interlude w/ Sherlock

44. texting w/ Sherlock

45. the case of the sign of three w/ Sherlock

46. the case of the sign of three w/ Sherlock

47. the case of the sign of three w/ Sherlock

48. texting w/ Sherlock

49. texting w/ Sherlock

50. texting w/ Sherlock

51. anniversary w/ Sherlock

52. texting w/ Sherlock

53. interlude w/ Sherlock

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[ He's almost close enough to the tapestry to rub his nose against it. Pulling out his magnifier, he stares at a small patch of wall, hidden behind cables from the desk lamp and the boy's computer. Hmm. Yes. Very small textile irregularities. Not to be found... on any other parts of the tapestry in the surrounding area. He looks around quickly, intensely, before putting his (gloved) hand lightly on the wall, feeling it out. There. With a huff of excitement, he springs to his feet (managing somehow not to bang his head against the underside of the desk) and shuffles through the boy's desk drawers until he finds a pair of scissors, sharp and relatively unused. Back on his knees, crawling underneath... God, this is actually interesting now, it's delightful! Scraping off the tapestry quickly, he uncovers a very small, very old ventilation shaft, seemingly closed off. When he puts his face next to it, however (very purposefully not breathing in any shape or form whilst doing so, thank you), he can feel the air flowing still.

Smiling, he samples a bit of the ruined tapestry in a petri dish, leaves the mess as it is and gets to his feet. He takes a quick moment to stare out of the window, just to get a better view of the surrounding area before rushing down the stairs, positively bouncing.

He strides right past John and doctor What's his Face, straight into the living room where Ingram seems to have gone to make calls, where as his wife is still there, holding the limp hand of her unresponsive son. She doesn't look up at him as he pauses next to her, staring at the boy for a moment. ]

You'll want to give him a change of scenery. [ She startles. Looks up at him, eyes wide. ] Once you're done with all your doctor-ordained examinations - during which they'll most probably find nothing at all - go take him somewhere with lots of fresh air. The beach. The moors. [ A handwave, neglicent. ] Whatever strikes your fancy. Oh, and get yourself an overview of all inactive ventilation shafts in the manor; avoid all rooms that have them, still, until you hear from me again.

[ Sherlock emerges from God knows where and strides right past both Dr Williams and John, heading for the sitting room and John feels a ball of regret already forming in the pit of his stomach as he follows the man with his eyes until the doorframe cuts off the view. Christ, what now? Dr Williams is in the middle of a speech about the bias against mental disorders, comparatively to physical ones which is well and good and true, certainly, but John still interrupts him mid-sentence, stepping to the side just to see -- yes, he's approached the mother who's having a moment, for God's sake, Sherlock, with her unresponsive son. ]

Excuse me, Dr Williams. [ A nod at the older physician who raises both eyebrows at him, but allows him leave without too much of a huff. Then, John follows Sherlock inside the sitting room, coming up behind him in time to catch the last part of his -- would you call that a recommendation? Come on. Ventilation shafts? Mrs Ingram looks not just perplexed but thoroughly disturbed by Sherlock's comments and John is quick to step up next to him, explaining as much as Sherlock, the bloody phenomenon, can ever be explained. ] I'll text you the instructions, Mrs Ingram. [ Like she needs to worry about remembering all of his drivel now. Seriously He glances sideways at Sherlock, up at the lines of his profile in the dim light filtering through the drawn curtains. ] And I assure you, I will punch him accordingly when all of this is over, but for now, sad to say, he probably knows more about what's going on than either me or you.

[ Releasing the kid's hand unwillingly, she gets up and looks from John to Sherlock and back again, John just nodding at her with all the understanding he can muster when all he wants to do is either to snog Sherlock or to slap him. Possibly both. She takes a deep breath, good woman, steeling herself, then turns towards Ingram as he returns to the room, telling him that they need the blueprints of the house immediately, the good gentleman here says so.

Upon eyeing Sherlock, Ingram's face falls visibly. John licks his lips, breathes hard through his nose. He knows for a fact that Ingram doesn't pull his punches. ]

[ John walks in and does his usual, charming follow-up on Sherlock's instructions (as if they weren't already crystal clear, ugh) and Mrs. Ingram turns to talk to Mr. Ingram who proceeds to stare at Sherlock with something that looks like... hm. Violent intent? Unbearable confusion? Well, whatever it is, Sherlock has no time for it - immediately, he turns fully towards the other man, raises his chin slightly and says: ]

Mr. Ingram. I made an interesting discovery in your son's room - if I were you, I'd have the room thoroughly aired and cleaned before letting anyone in there again. [ The fact that Sherlock just waltzed in and more or less pushed his face against the ventilation shaft is neither here nor there. ] Can't tell you more at present time, unfortunately. [ He steps closer, peering down his nose at Ingram though the man's actually no shorter than him. It's a gift. ] You ought to alert the authorities. The woman in the shop - there are striking similarities, even the police can't be dumb enough to miss them.

[ He thinks about the small petri dish in his pocket. It's burning a hole down there, almost - oh, he needs to get back to the lodge and give it a look. A really good look. He doesn't have the tech to make any conclusive findings but - ah, wait! He blinks. Turns away for a moment, thinking. ]

[ It isn't that John can't see the wheels positively turning in Ingram's head. Finally, he barks out, clearly agitated: what was he doing in Daniel's room? John shrugs, nods towards Sherlock who's left them to their own conclusions which is never a good idea when he gives them info like can't tell you more at present time, right? His voice, when re replies is calm, soothing almost. As long as he manages to keep Ingram's hands off of Sherlock, he'll consider his mission a success and that, mind you, is not a low bar to set. ]

You know what he does, Ingram. He was investigating.

[ Investigating what exactly? Ingram sounds more and more constipated. You can't rightly blame the man when he came in two seconds too late to catch Sherlock's instructions to his wife and she makes a brave attempt at calming him down, reaching out and putting her hand on his shoulder, whispering: think of our boy, Terence. Ingram, in turn, takes a deep breath, clearly trying to level himself a bit, though John can tell by the prominent vein in his temple that it really is a lost cause. John glances over at Sherlock again, hoping in spite of all experience and all proof to the contrary that the man will for once in his sorry life come to his aid, but since that's not very likely to happen, well. He purses his lips. ]

A crime, I suspect. Since he wants you to involve the authorities. [ Trying to go the more appeasing route now, only because all other paths have been tried and tread, yes. John gestures towards Ingram with a rather soft hand, loose wrist, non-threatening in every single way. ] You're a man of importance. Shouldn't be that hard.

[ Finally, the severity of the situation as it's being presented to them seems to dawn on Ingram, on both the Ingrams actually and Terence blinks a couple of times, muttering in disbelief: our son has been the victim of a crime... John's best guess is that it beats any of the physical or mental disorders that they're otherwise looking into and although horrible, pride can more easily bear that human immorality has caused damage than fickle concepts like chance and, God forbid, fate have. ]

[ Yes - yes, that's the best way to do it by far! Sherlock nods to himself, turns - and realises that John's only just finishing catching the Ingrams up. Lord, can't these people adapt? New situation, new reality, come on! Pushing one hand into his pocket, he pulls out the petri dish and looks at Mr. Ingram speculatively, eyes slightly narrowed. No, it won't do to simply hand it over; the idiot wouldn't know what to properly do with it and it might just end up in the wrong hands. Instead, he opens his palm and balances it, holding it out for the others to see. ]

Does your oh-so-secret military lab have the equipment necessary to analyse this sample? [ He keeps his fingers lightly curled, ready to snatch it away at any second. ] I only ask because I really won't put too much stock in anything you've told us so far regarding that place. For all we know, it might be an underground barn.

[ Ingram takes a moment to reply, his face very red at this point and his hands clenched into fists. His wife slips her hand to his elbow, clearly thinking the same as Sherlock (and John, going by his soothing tone of voice) - that the man's getting more and more inclined to strike out, physically. Ingram manages a deep, very shaky inhalation before breathing out slowly, shoulders sinking a fraction. Then, he tells him Quite, yes, though not in my department. I'll pass it on to the relevant people, make sure it's - Sherlock shakes his head, interrupting him smoothly: ]

No no, please - let's not involve any potential perpetrators this early on in the game. [ He turns away, pocketing the sample swiftly. ] We'll find a way, Mr. Ingram. For now - [ A nod in the general direction of the boy who's started drooling on the sofa. ] - take care of your own business.

[ With that, he turns away. And walks off, expecting John to follow suit. On the way, he fishes out his phone and shoots off a text (Required: Coordinates for underground base around Helston. There's something in it for you and it's better than cake. - SH). ]

[ The expression on Ingram's face when Sherlock just turns around and strides away again is so recognisably beaten that John can't help but smile slightly, very apologetically, mind you, but his lips do curve and he inclines his head at the couple, looking the boy over once more on the way - there's nothing he can do for him, Ingram should already have called the necessary medical agencies by now, he'll be fine. And that is by Sherlock Holmes' best estimate, so it will undoubtedly prove true as well. Eventually. Somehow, after much adventure has been had. The well-known rush of adrenaline finally kicks in now and Jesus, that's horrible timing... But okay, good, they're on a case again. Not ideal, not what he'd imagined for them, still -- if nothing else, it keeps Sherlock off the sweets. That, at least, is a good thing.

The other man's foreboding we'll find a way is less promising, because John knows the extremes Sherlock's willing to go to in order to, what, have his fix, solve his case, same old, and they're talking a top-secret military base here, they're not just going to let anyone saunter in, if he really doesn't want Ingram to take the sample himself. Which makes sense, supposedly, but it does place them in a bit of a pickle, doesn't it? Nodding at Dr Williams outside, gesturing towards the sitting room in a sorry about the mess manner, John breaks into a march to catch up to Sherlock, already ten steps ahead.

It takes him twenty seconds, of course, it always does, then he's up to speed. As much as one is ever up to speed with Sherlock on fire. ]

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