Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 9, 2012 21:22:17 GMT
Harriet steps outside Baker Street, wrapping her scarf around her neck. It's cold, and her breath mists as she exhales.
Alright, so he's pretty weird. John was right about that. But I don't know... maybe Molly was right. He just wants to help people.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 13:18:32 GMT
*exits, hails cab*
Brent Cross.
*he lets her get inside first*
And if, for some reason, Clara is unable to give you the computer? What then?
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 14:12:51 GMT
Well, hopefully it will all be on the memory sticks in the folder. What time is it?
Harry grabs Sherlock's wrist and checks his watch She might not be home yet, if we're lucky. She's nosy as anything, I can't be bothered with questions.
We'll get in, find the folder and get out. Don't go snooping through my stuff, either. I know what you dectective lot are like.
Harry relaxes a little and settles into her seat, glancing out the window. Hendon. Brent Cross. Home.
If we're really quick, I'll might even let you buy me lunch at the shopping centre.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 14:54:23 GMT
I don't eat when I'm working.
*he is silent the rest of the journey, but upon getting up, bounds to the doorbell*
Someone's home at least.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 14:58:41 GMT
Peers inside the window
Nope. She's out. She always leaves the radio on when she goes out. Come on, let's try my key.
Harry rummages inside her handbag. It is, seemingly, bottomless. She begins taking things out and shoves a few things in Sherlock's hands - a handful of tube tickets, a sock, a tangle of bracelets and a small paper bag containing the positive pregnancy test from this morning.
Hold this. They're in here somewhere.
Ah-ha! Bingo. Right, let's see.
She drags out a small set of gold keys and jams one in the lock.
That ******. It doesn't work. F**k.
Harriet bends down and examines the lock closely, with the air of a mechanic addressing a car with squeaky brakes
You wouldn't happen to have a pair of glasses on you, Mr Holmes? Or failing that, a biro?
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
|
Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 15:26:20 GMT
*rolls his eyes*
Move over. Let me do it.
Amateur.
*he produces a small object from his pocket--it is a lockpick which he always keeps on him. Within thirty seconds, the door clicks open. He gestures for her to go inside*
After you.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 15:31:17 GMT
Now *that* Harry gestures towards the lockpick is just cheating.
Harriet steps inside the house. It's small, but light and airy. She looks round and bites her lip - there are slightly faded patches on the walls where pictures used to hang.
I can do this. Quit being a baby Harry, this is easy.
Right. It's up here. Come on. Harry leads Sherlock towards the stairs. The first floor is even smaller than the ground floor - one bedroom and tiny bathroom. Harry goes towards the corner of the landing and looks upwards.
Well. Here we are.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 15:44:15 GMT
*he looks around*
Something's wrong.
But what?
*cautiously opens the doors one by one, but, on opening the door to the bedroom closet, freezes*
Booby-trapped. Run. Get out.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 15:48:33 GMT
Sherlock, I'm not leaving without those files. It will take me two minutes.
* Carefully, Harriet grabs a box and stands on it, before hastily peeling back the wallpaper on the ceiling, revealing a small, square, and clearly handmade, trapdoor.*
You can go, Sherlock, and prise the charred folder from my lifeless body, *she pushes on the door and it swings open* or you can take a risk, and give me a boost. It's right there - I can almost see it.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 16:04:49 GMT
If I let go of this, the house will go up. The longer we stay here stalling, the more likely it will be that Clara gets caught up in the blast. I'm sure you can find something else to stand on. I have no way of telling the strength of the bomb, but if it's one of Moriarty's, it can take out this entire house. I'd rather it be one of us than both. And that's assuming it is a bomb. It could just as easily be nerve gas or acid or a shrapnel bomb.
Or it could be a stupid joke.
*refuses to move*
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 16:12:40 GMT
Right, *looking around for something to stand on Stay there.
* She goes into the bathroom and comes out with a linen basket. Harry lines it up underneath the trapdoor and climbs, with relative elegance, on top of it. *
It's right there. Okay, here goes.
* Harry hauls herself into the roof.*
Urgh, I'd forgotten how dusty it is up here. And spidery. I hate spiders.
*She leans back further into the attic, her ankles still visible. The minutes seem to take forever, when suddenly she reappears, holding a thick black folder.*
Exactly where I left it, right next to my emergency cigarettes, and... oh. Uh, Sherlock? We have a problem....
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 16:17:22 GMT
Don't be stupid. Of course we have a problem. If I move this door even slightly, the trap will go off.
What is it now?
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 16:19:55 GMT
Please, oh please Sherlock, tell me you know how to defuse a bomb? Because if not, we've got three and a half minutes, according to this one, to learn how.
*Harriet's face is ashen white, her legs still dangling from hole in the roof. She's holding the black folder under the arm, and she's frozen, still poised to jump down. *
I refuse to share a funeral service with this lanky nerd. I am not dying here.
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Sherlock Holmes
Consulting Detective
The world's only consulting detective
Posts: 1,230
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Post by Sherlock Holmes on Jan 10, 2012 16:27:29 GMT
I can't tell you, I'd have to show you. Rule one, never believe a timer. I really recommend running.
*looks around*
But first, hand me those two bins. I can use them to keep this door in place while I try to defuse it.
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Harriet Watson
Teacher of languages and general trainwreck.
Posts: 787
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Post by Harriet Watson on Jan 10, 2012 16:30:55 GMT
Hang on, *Harry gently jumps down from the roof, before passing two bins to Sherlock. Her hands are shaking slightly and she can feel a cold sweat running down the back of her neck, but in spite of everything, she's almost enjoying herself. *
What do you want me to do?
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