You're An Idiot, Sherlock Holmes (OC x Sherlock)

Meat Dagger

"Scotland Yard," Sherlock stated bluntly, looking at Greg. "Have you got a theory?" Greg stared back at him blankly. "Yeah, you. You're a detective- broadly speaking," he amended. "Got a theory?" 

Greg's expression spoke volumes of how deep in thought he went into this. He stammered, "Er, um, if the, uh, if the, if-if-if, if the blade was, er, propelled through the, um," he stopped to think for a moment, "Grating in the air vent . . . maybe a-a ballista or a- or a- or a catapult. Erm, somebody tiny could-could crawl in there. So, yeah, we're . . . we're looking for a-a-a-a dwarf," the detective inspector concluded. 

Sherlock stared at him blankly for a moment. "brilliant," he stated, showing no indication of genuine praise.

"Really?"

"No," he retorted. I facepalmed at what I just witnessed between the two. "Next!" Some muttering came from the same table Lestrade sat, specifically between Molly and Tom. Ah, Tom. I forgot he came. "Hello? Who was that?" Sherlock asked, scanning the room. Tom looked round, wide-eyed at the groom. "Tom," he acknowledged. Tom grimaced and slowly stood up. His chair continuously squeaked as he rose to his feet, which echoed in the awkward silence as everyone waited for his theory. "Got a theory?" This better be good. 

He hesitated for a moment, looking at Sherlock as if he was intimidated by his exterior counterpart. "Um . . . attempted suicide, with a blade made of compacted blood and bone; broke after piercing his abdomen . . . like a meat. . . "

Oh, please, there's no way he can mess up this abomination of an explanation.

" . . . dagger." I let out an exasperated sigh and closed my eyes in frustration. Molly, you might want to reconsider your marriage options. 

A couple of the guests sniggered, while Molly's face was a picture of disbelief. Sherlock's expression also spoke volumes. No need for words now to tell what he was thinking about this . . . this . . . meat dagger theory.

"A meat dagger," Sherlock repeated in a precise tone.

"Yes," Tom confirmed awkwardly. 

"Sit. Down," Molly whispered through gritted teeth. Yeesh. I wonder what the conversation will be like when they get home. 'Oh, wasn't that wedding marvelous, Tom?' 'Yeah, I'd think so.' 'It was so beautiful and perfect until you brought up the meat dagger, but forgive and forget.' I may have been a little biased on the 'marvelous' and 'beautiful' and 'perfect.'

"No," Sherlock said precisely to Tom on his theory. Returning the subject back to his speech he continued, "There was one feature, and only one feature, of interest in the whole of this baffling case, and quite frankly it was the usual. Jane Holmes- who, while I was trying to solve the murder, instead saved a life."

"Damn it, Sherlock," I muttered with a laugh, wiping at a few tears pooling up.

"There are mysteries worth solving and stories worth telling." He looked down at me thoughtfully. "The best and bravest person I know- and on top of that she actually knows how to do stuff." I snickered in embarrassment at the last part. "Except wedding planning and serviettes- she's rubbish at those."

"True!" I confirmed, making the guests laugh. 

"The case itself remains the most ingenious and brilliantly-planned murder -or attempted murder- I've ever had the pleasure to encounter; the most perfect locked-room mystery of which I am aware. However, I didn't write this speech just to praise Jane- I'm also here to embarrass her, so let's move on to some . . . "

"No, no, wait," Greg interrupted just as Sherlock flipped to his next cue card. "How was it . . . how was it done?" 

"How was what done?"