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Titles: Of Strangers and Knives
Setting: BBC! Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: John, Sherlock
Genre/Warnings: Angst, Drama, Supernatural
Summary: Pissing off captors is bad. Pissing off witches is worse...or better. Fourth in the Witch Verse. 
Thanks to [livejournal.com profile] sostrangechild for the prompt! =D
If you have any prompts for the series, I would love to hear them!

Inexplicable (First)
Casual Curses (Second)
Curiosity (Third)
 

 

Sherlock got into more trouble in a week than your average witch did in a year. Which was saying something, as your average witch faced demons and all sorts of magical evils on a regular basis.

This time…well John wasn’t sure what kind of danger Sherlock was in, other than that he was in trouble. When we get out of this, we are so talking about his disappearing acts. And how NOT to do them. John thought as the cab raced along the streets. As they drove, John was frantically texting Lestrade.

 

Sherlock in trouble. First scene. Come. JW

 

On way. Do not, I repeat NOT, go in after him. Wait for us. GL

 

Sorry. JW

 

********

John’s late. Sherlock thought, as he looked down the hilt of the murderer’s knife. The man was…well he was interesting. Using the victim’s own knife as the murder weapon, carefully placing it back where it was found. Taking great care to make it seem like the victim had known their killer. It had even thrown Sherlock for a minute or two.

Then he had to go and ruin it by being boring and coming after Sherlock. It was so cliché that Sherlock wanted to scream.

And he would have… if there hadn’t been a knife at his throat.

Then the door slammed open. The man jumped, causing the knife to meet Sherlock’s throat briefly, leaving a red line. John was frozen in the doorway, his eyes wide.

‘Sherlock…’

 

********

‘Sherlock…’ John wheezed out. He could clearly see Sherlock standing in the middle of the room, the man behind him, with his knife to Sherlock’s throat. John recognised the knife as Sherlock’s own.

I am so teaching him to defend himself after this. John thought, taking a cautious step forward.

‘Don’t move!’ The man yelled, tightening his grip. John froze again. ‘I mean it! Don’t move.’

‘I’m not moving. Look, I’m standing still.’

‘A perfectly obvious statement, John. But then again, this man probably needed it.’

John closed his eyes and took a deep breath as he realised what Sherlock was doing. Pissing off your captors wasn’t a very smart move, but it was one Sherlock did all the time.  However, he didn’t notice that the photo frames on the mantelpiece were starting to shake. Sherlock did, with a slight smile.

‘Sherlock…’ John warned.

‘Shut up! Both of you!’ The man shook Sherlock a bit, and the frames flew to the ground. Everyone flinched. This movement left another red line across Sherlock’s neck.

‘And I thought you knew how to handle a knife. Clearly I was wrong. Perhaps you aren’t our killer after all. He’s much too smart to be you.’

John hissed at Sherlock’s stupidity. The door behind him slammed shut, but the sound was covered by the sirens of the police cars as they pulled up to the house.

‘No, no, no!’ The man muttered, dragging Sherlock with him to the window so he could see out.

‘I guess you lose. Pity. You weren’t as boring as the normal killers.’ Sherlock mocked.

‘I’m too smart to be caught. This is all your fault.’ The man seemed to have forgotten John, as he threw Sherlock to the ground and raised the knife. Even so, John was too far away to help. Unless…

The man drove the knife downwards, towards Sherlock’s heart. Except, the knife stayed where it was, hovering above them both.

The man looked at it in surprise and Sherlock used that moment to his advantage and kicked the man’s legs out from under him. He fell hard to the ground as sounds of the police yelling and forcing their way came into the room. The knife fell to the ground, as John made his way to Sherlock’s side.

He raised an already glowing hand to Sherlock’s throat but it was pushed away as Lestrade broke the door down.

He took one look at the scene, and sighed. ‘I told you to wait, John.’

John just smiled innocently.

 

********

 

‘What were you thinking?’ John turned on Sherlock as soon as they were alone at home.

‘When?’ Sherlock asked as he flung himself onto the sofa.

‘Pissing off the guy with a knife to your throat, generally isn’t a good idea.’

‘But I wasn’t.’

‘…what?’ John was thrown by Sherlock’s answer.

‘I wasn’t ‘pissing off’ him. I’ve noticed your telekinesis works better when you’re angry.’

John looked at him disbelieving. Then he squinted and every pillow in the room flew at Sherlock.

‘Still proves my point.’ Sherlock said through a mouth full of pillow.

He only just ducked the skull.   


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