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[personal profile] prettybirdy979
    Title: Burning Hearts
Fandom: Cabin Pressure, Sherlock
Gene: Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mystery, Fluff
Character/s: Sherlock, Martin, Mycroft, John, Douglas, Carolyn, Arthur, Lestrade, Moriarty, OCs and other minor Sherlock characters
Rating: PG-13 
Summary: Round Two. Only this time, the stakes have changed... and so have the players.
Warnings: Violence. Bit of foul language. Spoiler for The Great Game.
Notes: Sequel to Thicker than Water. Reading that first will help understanding this fic.

Sorry for the delay. 

Thanks to Elvendork for her betaing. 

Chapter One


“Coffee!” Arthur’s cheery voice rang out through the flat.

Sherlock barely glanced up. “On the table.” He placed another pin on his map of London as per
Douglas’ text. Between the two of them they were investigating businesses using Douglas’ contacts, who were far different to those of Sherlock’s.


Well. Sherlock was investigating really. Douglas was just being pointed in correct directions and told what he needed to charm out of people. Sherlock then co-ordinated the information.


“That’s your fifth cup. You’re even better at this than Skip is!” Arthur said.


Sherlock frowned. “How many cups of coffee does Martin drink, to an exact figure?”


“Two cups every morning, three if there’s a flight.” Arthur rattled off. Sherlock had been questioning the man carefully and found the more precise he was the closer the answer matched the question.


“Well, I’ll be needing a cup in a half hour. Can you make it?”


“Sure! We’re out of coffee though.”


“Take my card.” Sherlock gestured at his wallet. “The one with Mycroft on it.”


“Righto.”


Sherlock listened to Arthur’s steps down the stairs and out the door. Then he carefully poured the cup of coffee out the back window with the other four. Sherlock disliked having coffee when on cases.


His phone dinged with a text from John.
Had idea- Billie mentioned friends in Mycroft’s office. Want me to ask them to check up on his co-workers? JW

Sherlock smiled. He knew mentioning his suspicions of a mole in Mycroft’s network to John had been clever.


Tell them to ask after new hires and those over-qualified for their job. SH


Sherlock then buried his mind in the papers covering the desk and walls.


********


Footsteps up the stairs broke into Sherlock’s mind place. He identified them as those of Douglas, and pushed the man and his steps out of his head. He ignored the man’s attempts to engage him in conversation while investigating a connection Douglas had happened to highlight.


The bang of a book against the table forced him out of his thoughts.


“Better.” Douglas drawled as Sherlock glared. “I’m not much of a fan of being ignored.”


“I was considering a link between your
friend’s meat company and Moriarty.” Sherlock said. He rose from his seat and ran a hand over the map held in the wall by a knife. “There’s too many variables to be sure. I need more data!”

“Could I help with that?” Carolyn said from the doorway. “Your brother left for Fitton at nine thirty this morning, a movement that wasn’t reported by his head of security. It seems that the man is very much out of touch with his staff who had a level of independence far beyond what any employer should give their workers.” Douglas huffed a laugh at this. “We don’t count, Douglas.”


“Yes of course, your company is far too unusual to be anything but an outlier.” Sherlock waved at Carolyn to continue.


“Anyway, they’re looking into who failed to pass on the message.”


“They’ll not find them. John’s working on it so it doesn’t matter.”


“I’m what?” John asked as he walked in the door. The flat was beginning to feel crowded so Sherlock moved to stand by a window.


“Working on finding a mole in Mycroft’s network.” Douglas clarified from where he was trying to make sense of Sherlock’s map.


“Oh yes. I’ve got the homeless network on it. Billie has my phone, she’ll text you if there’s any details.” John said.


“Billie?” Carolyn asked.


“Friend of ours. Well, mostly mine. Sherlock just-” Sherlock tuned out the meaningless conversation behind him, making a mental note to provide Billie with a pre-paid phone. He examined the street below him mindlessly, running through the connections in his head. There had to be something, one tiny mistake.


His attention was drawn to Arthur, walking happily towards the flat with his bag of shopping. People on the street were giving him a wide berth, eying his skipping gait in distaste. Sherlock found a small smile on his face that he quickly suppressed.


“Oh there’s Arthur.” Carolyn said, suddenly beside him. Sherlock didn’t flinch but simply glanced at her. “I had wondered where he went.”


“We ran out of coffee.” Sherlock offered, his eyes now following a butcher’s van that had turned onto the street. Reichenbach Butchers...


“Oh!” Sherlock cried, sprinting for the street before the van had even reached Arthur. Confused, the other occupants followed. They reached the footpath as the van stopped beside Arthur. Two men emerged and behind Sherlock, Carolyn began to scream her son’s name.


“Arthur! Arthur, run!”


Arthur’s eyes widened in fear at the two men now either side of him. He swung his plastic bag at one catching him on the side of the head with what Sherlock calculated was enough force to leave a bruise. But then the second man grabbed his arms and Arthur cried out as he dropped his bag. He began to scream and kick as they dragged him into the van.


Sherlock growled in anger as he sprinted up the street. People were just standing there, watching it happen!


A third man slammed the van into reverse just as Sherlock reached it. A quick handbrake turn and the van was off.


“Arthur!” Carolyn cried from some distance behind him. Sherlock glanced at her and saw the symptoms of shock beginning to appear.


“Look after her John!” He yelled, before closing his eyes to calculate the van’s likely route. “This way!” He called at Douglas, before dashing down a nearby alleyway.


Up the stairs, across the roof and see the van. Down another set, across a road, up an alley and onto another road. Along this road and take the next left, hear Douglas’ heavily breathing behind and take the next right. Van should come down this road right about...


Now!


The van turned onto the road, headed straight for Sherlock. He smiled, standing his ground in the middle of the street and waiting. The van kept coming but this was a simple matter of wills, Sherlock was going to win.


The van kept coming. Sherlock was able to see the eyes of the man driving it. It was then he realised he had miscalculated. This man would not hesitate to run him down.


Sherlock stared into the eyes of his killer and took a deep breath.


“Sherlock!” His eyes closed automatically as he was hit with great force. His head bashed into the
concrete and all went dark.

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