How They Met Alice (BBC Sherlock Fanfiction)

Chapter 55 -The Hounds Of Baskerville

 (BAKER STREET, Alice’s POV: )

 I was reading in Sherlock’s chair as usual, and John was in his chair doing the same. Suddenly the living room door burst open and Sherlock charged in, stopping just inside the room and slamming the end of a long pole down onto the ground. My eyes widened and as I scanned him up and down. John looked round and his eyes widened too at the sight of his flatmate, who was wearing black trousers and a white shirt and whose arms, chest and face were covered with blood – far too much blood for it to be his own – and who was holding a harpoon. He looked round to us, breathing heavily.

 “Well, that was tedious.” He said nonchalantly. I held in a laugh and put the book back on the shelf.

 “You went on the Tube like that?!” John nearly shouted.

 “None of the cabs would take me.” He answered, sounding irritated. He walked out of the room.

 Later he was back in the room, having cleaned himself up and changed into a clean shirt and trousers with one of his blue dressing gowns over the top. He was still carrying the harpoon and was pacing rapidly between the door and the window, looking round repeatedly at John as he sat in his chair flicking through the newspapers.

 “Nothing?” He asked impatiently.

 “Military coup in Uganda.” John offered. I looked up at the harpoon in Sherlock’s hands. I wanted to see how heavy it was.

 “Hmm.” Sherlock replied. John chuckled in amusement as he saw something in one of the papers.

 “Another photo of you two with the, er...” John explained, pointing  to a photograph of Sherlock wearing the deerstalker hat and me in the bowler hat. I didn’t mind because I rather liked it. Sherlock, however, made a disgusted noise. John moved on to another newspaper. “Oh, um, Cabinet reshuffle.” He continued.

 “Nothing of importance?” he asked, furious. He slammed the end of the harpoon onto the ground and roared with rage. I jumped up and put my hand around the harpoon, trying to take it from him. He didn’t even notice.  “Oh, g*d!” He complained. He looked round at John intensely. “John, I need some. Get me some.” He demanded. I immediately backed away from him, knowing that irritating him may not be the best decision.

 “No.” John said calmly.

 “Get me some.” Sherlock ordered intensely.

 “No.” John repeated, a bit louder. He pointed sternly at him. “Cold turkey, we agreed, no matter what. We all did.” He explained, emphasizing ‘all’. I gave him a glare. Irritated, Sherlock leaned the harpoon against the table. “Anyway, you’ve paid everyone off, remember? No-one within a two mile radius’ll sell you any. And Alice added an extra four miles.” He added. I glared at him again for including me.

 “Stupid idea. Whose idea was that?” Sherlock demanded. John looked round at him and cleared his throat pointedly. Sherlock looked towards the door.  “Mrs. Hudson!” He shouted. He started hurling paperwork off the table as he searched desperately for what he needed.

 “Look, Sherlock, you’re doing really well. Don’t give up now.” John encouraged.

 “Yeah, John. He is. So well!” I said, every word dripping with sarcasm. He gave me a terrifying look and I just returned it with a snarky glare.

 “Tell me where they are. Please. Tell me.” He begged frantically as he continued his search. As John remained silent, Sherlock straightened up and then turned his most appealing puppy-dog eyes on him, hesitating before he spoke and almost forming the word a couple of times before actually speaking it. “Please.” He begged.