A/N: Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at /works/358525 around March.
Set in the Dresden Files Universe. Red Court is a court of vampires. White Council is a council of wizards. They are at war with each other in the books (at least until *spoilers*). One-shot, unless encouraged greatly. Disclaimer: Playing in someone else's sandbox. I don't own anything. Sherlock and Dresden Files belong to their respective owners (BBC and Jim Butcher)
"John, hand me the stake." Sherlock murmured, his hand stretched out towards John. His knee rested in the vampire's stomach, fitting comfortably in the hole John made with his shot gun. The vampire struggled, and John poured holy water into the monster's eyes. It shrieked and stopped moving.
John reached into his pack, and gingerly retrieved a sharpened wooden stake. "Here."
Sherlock drove the stake into the vampire's heart without preamble, and it disintegrated with a scream. "We're done here."
"Yup." John agreed, and stood up. He froze, instinct telling him something was wrong, and he turned. Something growled. "Shit - Sherlock!" John dove at Sherlock, and they both went down.
A huge wolf-like creature almost had them, but it overshot and slammed into the wall. John hissed. "Why is it here, how did that loupgarou werewolf find us?"
"The vampire trail, John. They had it follow us, so we won't find the child - Monica." Sherlock said. "9'oclock, John. It's going to pounce."
John growled, and pulled out his hand gun. The werewolf jumped.
It took John only two shots.
"Clean. I'm impressed." Sherlock said. He stood up, and went to the dead werewolf. "The bullets are too deep in. Scalpel?"
John handed the dissecting kit over. "Better retrieve them, Sherlock. Might still be good for another run." He grimaced. "They're from my grandfather's ring."
Sherlock grinned. "I'll get it." He sliced cleanly and deeply, and carefully extracted the bullet. "Where did you learn all this? I didn't expect to have a flatmate who's in the know."
John smiled. "Afghanistan's a hotbed for supernatural things, Sherlock. The war they show on the telly? Not the only war I was fighting."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow. "You were fighting against the Red Court too? I thought only the White Council handled that."
"What, I can't volunteer?" John said.
Sherlock blinked at John, knowing there was more to the story, but didn't press. He stood up, wiped up the bullet, and handed it to John. "Here." He looked around, and checked if the warehouse was clean.
John frowned. "Our contact said we will find Monica here."
Sherlock shook his head. "He said there might be a chance. I knew she wasn't here."
John blinked at Sherlock. "Then why did we come here?"
"This den needed to be shut down." Sherlock grinned at John. His mobile beeped, and Sherlock quickly checked it. "Well. We have another warehouse to check out. The child is definitely going to be there." He glanced at John. "Might still be dangerous. Coming?"
John nodded, and grinned. "Oh god yes." He holstered his gun. "Let's kill some vampires."