The Hounds of Baskerville [Reader Insert]

Deadlier Than a Rabbit

     The room turned out to be a private lab. A blonde scientist was conducting a test with a small capuchin monkey, and, upon your arrival,  asked, "Who are you and what are you doing in my lab?"

     "Priority Ultra," you answered immediately. "This is an inspection."

     You weren't entirely certain that Priority Ultra was even a thing, but figured Dr. Stapleton was smart enough not to question it.

     "We're to be accorded every courtesy, Doctor Stapleton," Sherlock said. "What exactly is your role here at Baskerville?" Stapleton snorted in derision in response. 

     "Accorded every courtesy, isn't that the idea?" you said coldly.

      "I'm not free to say," was her curt answer. "Official secrets and all that."

      "Oh, you most certainly are free," you snapped, "and I suggest you remain that way."

     Sherlock let out a strange, strangled noise that morphed into a cough so quickly you were unsure you'd heard it in the first place. You cast him a sideways look and he cleared his throat, avoiding eye contact. 

      Stapleton frowned, reluctantly relenting. "I... have my fingers in a lot of pies. I like to mix things up-- genes, mostly. Now and again actual fingers."

     "Stapleton," Sherlock muttered quietly, as if not trusting his own voice. He cleared his throat once more and spoke- more loudly this time- "I knew I knew your name."

     "I doubt it," she answered, furrowing her brow. 

    Sherlock scoffed as he took a large notebook from his jacket. "People say there's no such thing as coincidence. What dull lives they must lead." 

     He held up the notebook, and Doctor Stapleton's expression immediately shifted to hold amazement and confusion. "Have you... been speaking to my daughter?"

     "Why did Bluebell have to die, Doctor Stapleton?"

     You glared at him. "The rabbit?" You reached out and took the notebook from Sherlock, flipping it over to see what it read. Sure enough, BLUEBELL was written across the page in dark blue ink. "Did we just abandon John with an armed man so that you could investigate a missing rabbit?" 

    Sherlock smiled sheepishly and shrugged. You rolled your eyes, and the reality of John's situation dawned on you. He was alone with an armed man and you and Sherlock had just left him alone. What time was it?

     While you fished through your pockets for your phone, hoping you hadn't left it in the car, Sherlock resumed his interrogation with Dr. Stapleton.  "Disappeared from a locked hutch, which is always suggestive. Clearly an inside job."

     "Oh, you reckon?" Dr. Stapleton quipped.

     Sherlock narrowed his eyes. "All because it glowed in the dark."

     "...I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Who are you?"

    "Sherl," you interrupted urgently, "we're out of time. Time to go!"

     In an instant, the two of you were back in the lift, although Sherl kept a threatening glare on Dr. Stapleton on his way. While you frantically pushed the buttons, Sherlock mumbled something about not calling him Sherl, which you decidedly ignored.

    As the lift carried you upwards, both yours and Sherlock's phones buzzed with a text notification.

     What are you doing?