A/N: I do not own Sherlock. Sherlock himself is currently in the hands of Moffatt and Gattiss, and is a public domain character of ACD. I merely do this for fun. Do not sue. I have no money,
Another A/N: I've become hooked on the show Sherlock from the BBC. Anxiously awaiting season 2. While waiting, I'm figuring out how to write fanfiction for this show. Sherlock and John are a little hard to write.
"You got it all wrong, Donovan."
Sergeant Donovan looks at Sergeant Caswell, as they both are on the outskirts of the crime scene, watching as the Freak does his usual dramatic thing with relish of course.
"What do you mean Caswell?"
"When you say that Sherlock is dangerous."
She scowls at him. Caswell is one of the few on the force that don't seem to mind the Freak helping. She can't figure out why. Then again she can't figure out why the DI puts up with him or how his flatmate, Dr Watson can stand being around him.
"He is dangerous," she insists, wondering how others can't see it. That one day Sherlock will be a killer. That one day helping Scotland Yard and others on the side won't be enough. She told that to John during that 'A Study In Pink' case.
"Only to criminals who want to stay hidden. No, he's not the truly dangerous one, Donovan," he says quietly, not looking at her, watching the Freak. "John Watson is."
She lets out a laugh of disbelief. "Him? How can ihe/i be dangerous?" She looks at the man in question. John Watson staying off the to side, hands clasped behind his back, watching the Freak, and occasionally stepping in when it looks like the Freak and the DI are arguing.
He's so.. bland. So ordinary. So... in the background. The only time Sally Donovan notices him is when he speaks up, or when the Freak says his name.
Caswell glances over at her. "You really don't see do you?" He says and shakes his head.
"Sherlock's right, we are idiots," he adds with disgust. "You're a cop, and you can't see what is right in front of you, Sergeant Donovan."
Donovan resisted the urge to hit him. It would not be professional. "All right then, enlighten me," she drawls.
"He's a soldier for one. And a doctor. He was in Afghanistan, a true battlefield where every day was a fight to stay alive to the next one half the time," Caswell says. "I read his record, when DI Lestrade decided to look into him when he realized Sherlock would be bringing him to cases. Didn't you?"
Donovan grimaced. "No. I didn't see the need to."
"Mistake," he says softly. "The man lived in a warzone before being invalided here. He was constantly brought into places that were under fire to tend to the wounded. He was shot in the shoulder tending to an American soldier who got shot three times in her right leg. Several accounts are in there of Doctor John Watson being right in the middle of the chaos and helping his fellow soldiers. And all accounts say that Dr Watson was a natural with a gun, a crack shot. And always so calm, cool, and collected. Even under fire."
Sally's listening. She's listening as she's watching John Watson place a hand on the Freak, and say something to him. The Freak nods, says something back to him and they both kneel down next to the two young men that were brutally killed. While the Freak has his usual look of delight as he's trying to solve this latest case before him, Sally notices that the doctor calmly watches the Freak, answering when spoken to, but now and then his eyes scan around. As if he's still a soldier, keeping an eye out for trouble.
"John Watson is a man that lives with a self professed high functioning sociopath. That has lived with him for over a year now," Caswell goes on. "And in that year, Sherlock has been easier to deal with at crime scenes. He's actually letting DI Lestrade know before going off to do what he does. He listens to John, pays attention to John. John Watson tells him to walk them through his deductions, he does so without complaint. He manages Sherlock Holmes, Seargent Donovan. He's the only person that can reign in the man, within reason. What does that tell you about a man?"
Caswell's words are sinking in and sinking in fast. Sally Donovan never considered herself a stupid person, but sometimes things had to be explained to her in more detail for her to see the whole picture.
What does that tell a person about a man? A man that control, manage, reign in someone like Sherlock Holmes? That can live with him.
"And have you noticed that if anyone threatens Sherlock, physically at least, they don't live for long?"
Bells ring in Sally's head.
The cabbie in A Study of Pink.
Adrian Darling during that serial rape case.
Yvette Montague. A female hit woman who kidnapped Sherlock Holmes when he was brought in on her case. She shot Sherlock in the leg... and she died during a stand off between the police and her. But none of the police there that day remember firing a shot, and everyone put it down to the situation being so nuts that no one could remember... even when all guns where checked and no bullets were fired from them.
And several other criminals that had come and go along the years. Most of them lived of course. But there was that group of them, that decided that killing Sherlock Holmes would be their best chance to escape being arrested... and wound up being killed for their trouble.
"Sherlock Holmes is not the one you should be afraid of, Sergeant Donovan," Caswell says softly breaking into her wild thoughts. "He's of no threat to you, as long as you are no threat to him. None of us are, because we need him. But I will admit this, I am more afraid of Doctor John Watson than I am of Sherlock Holmes." His gaze meets hers. "And I respect him all the more because of it."