prettybirdy979

Titles: Unusual Magic
Setting: BBC! Sherlock
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: John, Sherlock
Genre/Warnings: Angst, Drama, Supernatural
Summary: Odd things happen around John...even accounting for his magic. Ninth in the Witch Verse.
Written as part of NaNoWriMo... And for a prompt from fanfiction.net by Cyberbutterfly Betaed by

grinnyp Thanks! This isn't quite as long as some of the more recent ones but I like it. =D

I'm still looking for prompts!

I'm done with most of the previous prompts and am working on the new ones. =D

Serires starts Here

It didn’t matter how many times John tore into Sherlock for disappearing, for getting himself into situations where only John’s timely arrival saved his life; Sherlock would still do it. He would choose to put his life into John’s hands, to trust that John would always find him. And while it was flattering that Sherlock trusted him so much, John wished he would find a slightly less deadly to show his trust.

Plus he could stop feeling like he was in a never-ending time loop where the same things kept happening, just with different people.

This time Sherlock was chasing another serial ‘suicide’ killer. This woman was luring her victims to rooftops with the promise of a good time then surprising the man and pushing him off the building, making it look like a suicide. It was only when she had dropped a handkerchief at the crime scene that anyone had noticed someone else was there and had called Sherlock in. He had quickly linked the cases together and picked up that she had been killing at least once every six months for the last ten years.

And now he had run off to confront her, disregarding the fact he was her typical victim.

John had been left to chase after him, not really worried as he was sure Sherlock could care for himself. Until Lestrade had texted Sherlock’s phone, left with John, to tell him that the latest autopsy had shown traces of chloroform. Apparently she weakened her victims, and then when the drug was mostly out of their system she pushed them off.

And John had started to worry. He immediately had begun to run over Sherlock’s notes, looking for any sign of where he had gone. Frantically he turned their flat upside down, until Cat had pointed him to the map of London and he had spotted what Sherlock had. All the buildings she chose didn’t have security cameras, but put on a map they formed circles.

John traced the last circle until he found the building he knew Sherlock had identified and then he was off, dashing down the stair and out onto Baker Street, screaming for a taxi.

The journey there took very little time but it seemed ages to John. As soon as the taxi stopped, he threw a note at the driver knowing it was more than the fare but not caring. He barely stopped to shut the door before he was dashing up the doorsteps. Looking up, he saw Sherlock standing on the roof his back to the edge. John could see him walking backwards and realised he was going to be too late.

He tried anyway. John nearly pulled the door off its hinges as he dashed up the stairs. Praying he would be on time. Please let me get there in time, please, please. PLEASE!

There was a rush of colour around John, a heave in his stomach and suddenly he was standing on the roof behind the woman. Sherlock was facing him and his eyes widened at John’s sudden appearance but John had ignored him. Instead he had put his current momentum into a tackle, knocking the woman to the ground. The gun she had had in her hand went flying over the side.

‘Call Lestrade, Sherlock.’ John had restrained the woman while throwing Sherlock his phone. He was a little shocked when Sherlock followed his orders but he ignored it so as to keep the struggling woman from moving.

********

It was later, back at the flat with Cat asleep in John’s lap that he had remembered to ask Sherlock what had happened on the rooftop.

‘Sherlock?’

‘Hmm?’

‘What was wrong…on the rooftop I mean?’

Sherlock looked up from his laptop. ‘What do you mean?’

‘You know what I mean. You weren’t yourself which means there was something wrong.’

‘Very astute John. You teleported.’

John looked confused as he ran over the night’s events again. ‘I did?’

‘Yes. You just appeared on the rooftop and I…was a little thrown.’

‘I didn’t mean to. It just happened. One minute I was running up the stairs, the next I was behind her.’

Sherlock put his laptop to one side, interested as always in talk of magic. ‘Does that often happen?’

‘What, my magic doing things it’s not supposed to? No, not really.’

‘What happened then?’

‘I’m not sure…’

Cat suddenly rolled over and fell off John’s lap with a thump and undignified squeak. John and Sherlock both laughed at the look on his face and forgot about their conversation.

And if John managed a few feats of magic he shouldn’t have… well it was just chalked up to adrenaline.