Work Header

A Wondrous Subtle Thing: Meeting

Work Text:

Today it looks like Sherlock wants to play both Good Cop and Bad Cop, your services will not be required, thank you, Watson, hmm? He's calm, Joan thinks, or what passes for calm with him; calm enough that she can leave him alone with Detective Bell and the witness for five minutes without worrying she'll come back to fires, floods or lawsuits.

She shares a Look with Detective Bell, both of them making it obvious enough that Sherlock will know it was meant to annoy him, and leaves them to it. She needs some fresh air.

She's almost out of the door when Sherlock's voice shifts to Irritatingly Perceptive Cop. "If you're hoping to bump into that rather charming redhead, Watson, I recommend positioning yourself casually at the base of the east-most stairwell."

She doesn't give him the satisfaction of letting the door slam behind her.


That rather charming redhead, shut up, Sherlock, walks past the base of the east-most stairwell three minutes later carrying a large cup of coffee.

"Joan, right?" Her smile is dazzling. "The biographer."

Joan meets that with only a slight wince. Sherlock has picked worse job titles for her. "Something like that."

"Yeah, yeah, of course, hi." The redhead starts to stick out a hand, realizes what she's doing, and awkwardly shoves it behind her back. "Hi?"

"Hi," Joan says.

“Sorry, I’m not normally--” The redhead cuts herself off. “I am. I’m totally normally like this. This is me on a good day. This is me on a great day, because today I met you.” Her eyes widen. “Oh my god, did I just say that? I am the actual worst. Here, hold this.” She gives Joan the coffee cup, then uses both hands to mime ritual suicide.

Joan’s mouth fights a losing battle against a smile. “Blood doesn’t spurt like that from the abdomen,” she says once the redhead has finished the sound effects. “Here.” She gives the coffee cup back then, not quite believing that Ms Joan Watson, sober companion, is doing this, uses both hands to mimic the correct spray of blood from severe abdominal lacerations. This is definitely Sherlock’s fault.

“Marry me,” the redhead says. “Or, no, wait, go on a date with me? Biographers are crazy sexy. Then tell me your favorite Star Trek captain. Then marry me.”


When Joan gets back to the classroom they’ve been using to interview people, Sherlock is examining the sole of Detective Bell’s left shoe. He doesn’t look away from the magnified image on his phone to say, “For heaven’s sake, Watson, her name is Mary. Must I do everything around here?”

Joan hopes Detective Bell kicks him in the face.


[Image description: Felicia Day as Mary Morstan. Source:]