jackwabbit (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
jackwabbit) wrote2012-03-01 03:56 am
jackwabbit) wrote2012-03-01 03:56 am
New Fic: The Grand Experiment
The Grand Experiment
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rated: PG
Category: 221B Fic. Gen.
Series: One.
Spoilers: A Study in Pink.
Summary: Even Sherlock Holmes occasionally has to prove his theories.
Word Count: Why, 221 (and ending with a “B” word), of course!
xxx
Oh, but you’re good.
You, with your unassuming jumpers and that moronic cane.
You fool almost everyone, including yourself, most days.
But I am not everyone. One look at you, and my interest was piqued.
Of course, that’s all it took to surmise your situation, as well.
I deduced your limp was psychosomatic in seconds, and unlike your therapist, I had a good guess as to its cause.
Forget “stress” and other such idiocy. No, I suspected this was something else entirely: Anger. At being invalided home; at the man who shot you; that you’re not “where you’re supposed to be” in life.
I postulated that your limp was a distraction from the rage you expertly conceal.
But even I wasn’t certain of this until you blew up at Mrs. Hudson.
I was nearly out the door.
I almost missed your outburst.
But I didn’t, and I’m glad.
For you proved me right, and more importantly, you gave me a new idea.
What’s that saying?
Physician, heal thyself?
Well, I’m no doctor, but I know a little something about distractions, John Watson.
And I have a theory.
I think, perhaps, you’ve finally come to the right place for help with this little problem of yours.
Only one way to find out, I suppose.
Oh, you shall be a grand experiment!
Brilliant!
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Rated: PG
Category: 221B Fic. Gen.
Series: One.
Spoilers: A Study in Pink.
Summary: Even Sherlock Holmes occasionally has to prove his theories.
Word Count: Why, 221 (and ending with a “B” word), of course!
xxx
Oh, but you’re good.
You, with your unassuming jumpers and that moronic cane.
You fool almost everyone, including yourself, most days.
But I am not everyone. One look at you, and my interest was piqued.
Of course, that’s all it took to surmise your situation, as well.
I deduced your limp was psychosomatic in seconds, and unlike your therapist, I had a good guess as to its cause.
Forget “stress” and other such idiocy. No, I suspected this was something else entirely: Anger. At being invalided home; at the man who shot you; that you’re not “where you’re supposed to be” in life.
I postulated that your limp was a distraction from the rage you expertly conceal.
But even I wasn’t certain of this until you blew up at Mrs. Hudson.
I was nearly out the door.
I almost missed your outburst.
But I didn’t, and I’m glad.
For you proved me right, and more importantly, you gave me a new idea.
What’s that saying?
Physician, heal thyself?
Well, I’m no doctor, but I know a little something about distractions, John Watson.
And I have a theory.
I think, perhaps, you’ve finally come to the right place for help with this little problem of yours.
Only one way to find out, I suppose.
Oh, you shall be a grand experiment!
Brilliant!