Title: Burning HeartsFandom: Cabin Pressure, SherlockGene: Crossover, Drama, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Mystery, FluffCharacter/s: Sherlock, Martin, Mycroft, John, Douglas, Carolyn, Arthur, Lestrade, Moriarty, OCs and other minor Sherlock charactersRating: 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.
“Sherlock!” John cried as Douglas and Sherlock walked up the stairs of 221B. John was kneeling in front of Carolyn, who was sitting on the sofa with an orange blanket wrapped around her and looked to be two seconds from pouring her cup of tea all over John.
“Finally! Where’s Arthur?” Carolyn demanded, making an attempt to get the blanket off. John was there in a moment, grabbing the edges of the blanket and pulling it back onto her.
Sherlock shook his head. “Van with him got away, but now we have a confirmation.” He moved to his maps, reaching for a folder.
“You failed to mention the van got away after nearly running you down.” Douglas said, as John noticed his injury. Silently John forced him into the spot beside Carolyn and began to clean the cut. When Carolyn tried to use this distraction to get up, John grabbed at her blanket without looking and forced her back onto the seat.
“Don’t bother.” Sherlock said, his eyes still on the folder’s information. “John has an annoying habit of hunting down his escaped patients.”
“You had just been knocked out, there was no reason for you to be at Big Ben. Annoying Mycroft is not a reason.” He added as Sherlock went to speak.
“What do we now know?” Douglas asked. “You’ve been extremely tight lipped.”
Sherlock looked up and grinned. “Everything. More or less. Now Douglas, tell us about Colonel Moran.”
John made a small noise of shock as Douglas frowned. “I barely know him. He’s...a friend of a friend. When I was at Air England, a couple of the other pilots used to sneak things in for him- nothing illegal but at the time he was serving in a dry country and had a fondness for whiskey. Paid well enough for it, but I preferred to drink what they wanted me to smuggle him.”
Carolyn made a disgusted noise. “And here I thought you had morals.”
Douglas glared. “There was also the fact that I prefer a more... mutual exchange. Gifts between friends, far easier to explain to customs officers. And Moran just...well Martin reminded me of him at first but-”
Sherlock makes an outraged noise at Douglas’ statement. “Martin and Moran are nothing alike!”
“They’re both obsessive.” Douglas shot back. “Moran, the one time I met him, was obsessed with well, hunting. I got the impression he didn’t care what he was hunting as long as it moved.” He frowned. “I have no idea why he brought a meat factory, and no one would talk to me about it.”
Sherlock grinned. “Exactly as I thought. Moran is Moriarty’s right hand man. He’s got friends in high places from his time in the army, useful to Moriarty and for keeping Moran’s reputation clean.”
“Friends in high places. Like a member of security of your brother’s?” Carolyn asked and Sherlock jerked in surprise.
“Exactly. Yes.” He eyed her in a way that made her feel both pleased and annoyed. “I believe he also has a contact in the Human Resources department, with the pull to make sure he gets the right man hired.”
“It’s all so obvious though.” Douglas said.
“Once it’s pointed out, yes.” Sherlock acknowledged.
“Why though? Why isn’t he working in the shadows? We know his name and we know where his factory is. It won’t take much to have it searched-” Douglas started.
Sherlock cut him off. “Moriarty isn’t stupid. Moran has the influence to squash all police warrants with even the smallest bit of doubt in them and it all connects to him. And only him.”
“He’s the fall guy?” John asked, finishing his work on Douglas’ wound.
“If he manages to get himself caught, yes.” Sherlock confirmed. “Extra incentive to not be caught.”
“Well then. Our next move?” Carolyn asked.
“The meat factory is a trap, I’m sure of it.” Sherlock said, throwing a few photos at John who showed them to the others. “Those show rooms I can’t find on the plans and the factory’s figures show it shouldn’t still be open. It’s clearly a front, and the use of the van shows that here is where Moriarty wants us to go.”
John smirked. “Well then. Let’s go spring the trap.”
“How very Jedi of you.” Douglas drawled and John laughed while Sherlock frowned.
“Pop culture Sherlock.” John explained and both he and Carolyn groaned.
“Right,” John said. “Star Wars marathon once we’ve got Arthur and Martin back. Hell, Mycroft can come too and we can all laugh at his bemusement.”
Sherlock gave his friend a considering look, then a small smile.
Douglas checked his watch. “Nearly five o’clock. Should we wait for the cover of dark or will we take advantage of the last rays of sunlight.”
Sherlock rolled his eyes. “If you’re going to be dramatic about it, we- Wait, no. John and I are going.”
“If you think we’re staying here, you’ve got another thing coming.” Carolyn snapped.
“You’ll be risking Arthur’s life.” Sherlock threatened.
“You’re already doing that.” Carolyn returned.
“How about, we call the police and they can act as our back up?” Douglas said.
John nodded, even as Sherlock went to protest. “When we get there so they don’t try and beat us there.”
Sherlock glared at them all. “John and I don’t need help.”
“Pick your battles Sherlock.” John said gently, placing a hand on his friend’s back. Sherlock sighed, then nodded.
“Grab your gun John.” He gave Carolyn and Douglas one last, searching look. “Come if you must.”
Douglas smirked. “I’m sure we’ll be far more useful than you think.”
“Probably.” Sherlock admitted unwillingly, before storming out of the flat. With a shared smile, the others followed him.