He wondered if they had archived all the cases he had solved.
Surely not, he thought. Some were top secret. Like the Bruce- Partington files. Mycroft would never have allowed that. He probably had surveillance on the whole world and got pingbacks when such words were posted. Damn Big Brother.
So, Sherlock clicked on the link and opened a page on the archives.
And then he blinked.
Huh.
What was this site?! It had stories about him?
And John?
And…ewwww…stories about him and John kissing??!
What in the flaming hell-fires was all this? Honestly?!
He tried to imagine kissing John. Nope. Nah. He was too short to start with. At least Greg was his own height. Mycroft of course was taller than him. That would make kissing easier in fact. Maybe he needed to tiptoe a little.
Hmm…purely as a scientific experiment…..he should consider trying it out…..Easier than bending at any rate. He didn’t like the idea of bending….and anyway…John?!! NO way.
These people probably didn’t know it but John was Not Gay.
They seemed to be convinced that he was though. There were 58701 stories. No…. what did they call them? Fics. Fifty eight thousand seven hundred and one fics.
That was a LOT of fics!! That was almost half the number of books in the Bodleian Library in Oxford.
And these writers wrote about seasons. Four seasons. But they kept asking if there would be a fifth. Fifth season?! Where did they think there was place for that in the calendar?!! There were 12 months and four seasons and that was that.
He could not understand why they cared so much about seasons anyway? It is not as if there were more crimes in Summer than in Spring.
And everyone seemed to be extremely obsessed with the Fall. Like it was a fashion house. Ridiculous.
But they just kept going on and on and ON about the Fall.
Seriously weird.
.
.
But over 58,000 fics?! About him and John?!! It was almost like they were hoping that the sheer mass of stories would push the universe into making that happen. He shook his head in despair. There are 7,83, 137 words in the Bible and over 80 million copies sold and that had not made either The Father nor the Spirit or the Holy Ghost appear.
This definitely rated well above a 7 and he needed to go looking for clues.
So he clicked on page 2900. Just like that. Well it was also the number of self-avoiding walks in a quadrant of length 10. He needed to maintain some rationale and logic in this deduction process.
On that page he found a fic called ‘Without Words’ by someone named Secret Memoir Agent J.
AHA!! He knew it !! He KNEW that the leak had to be from Mycroft’s team. The least secret team and of no service whatsoever. Just thugs in black suits. That is all they were, he cursed.
And his Big Brother was the worst among them all. Nothing but a soft spoken and elegant thug. Hiding in plain sight.
He scowled at the idea and proceeded to read the fic.
What Holmes wants, he cannot ask for, it said.
He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry.
Holmes pats the space next to him. Watson blinks and closes the space between him, sitting as a good friend, ready to lend a listening ear.
