A.N. : Hello! I enthusiastically present to the public my own take on Hades Lord of the Dead's December Calendar Challenge of Awesomeness! I want to warn you that I am a firm believer of Johnlock, so romance between the two could worm his way in here sometimes (though I'll respect the rating, do not fear). Flames will be used to roast marshmallow. And now the first day, following the wonderful prompt "Sherlock Holmes in the 22nd Century!" issued by Poseidon - God of the Seas.
a Doctor's life
p.s. Do NOT ask for prescriptions – I won't without visiting you in person, for both our safety.
Entry n. 221: An addition to family!
London, 21/3/ 218X
I remember very well your kind words and advices when I told you I had bought a pup (Gladstone is growing up nicely, btw, will post photos soon-ish). Now I find myself proud owner – even if using the word feels, in this case, a little weird – of a (insert drums)...
Latest Model Poly-Analysis Android.
And I didn't even exhaust my (admittedly not big) funds for it! If can barely believe myself what happened, so I'll tell you – it will make a bit more sense by the end of it, hopefully. So...
I went as usual to the hospital, and Stamford (see entry 185 for the video with his karaoke performance) came to me laughing so much he was choking. I asked what happened, of course, and he said there had been a murderer and the victim had been just brought in. It happened, sometimes – we do collaborate with the police – but it was no reason to laugh, as I pointed out – a bit harshly, I fear.
"I know" he said "it's just...the police apparently saw fit to bring one of their own to help with the analysis, and...he just won't shut up. He said two of his colleagues were fucking behind their lovers' back, and that Dr. Smith become a gynaecologist to freely molest his patients – you know, we suspected already, but if they don't denounce him – and they don't 'cause they're ashamed – it's not like we could stop him, and then...by now he has probably stripped the whole staff of their secrets. You should see the people's faces when he does. Some could have had a stroke".
Well, I couldn't resist having a peek myself, could I? I had no dirty secrets – at least, no guilty ones – he could taunt me with, after all, and it was interesting, right?
At the end of my turn, I run to the morgue – hoping the show was not off by then – and I found something, allright...
There was a red-faced policewoman yelling her lungs out to a perfectly composed man – it looked like that, I swear – saying things like: "You dirty piece of scrap! Do your work only and shut up about the rest, will you?".
A long-suffering officer was there, clearly hoping this would end soon so he could go back home. When he saw me, he said : "Ok, Donovan, that's enough. Did you need something, doctor?".
Before I could answer, though, the object of her hate turned to me and spouted off my age, height, weight (I won't report it even under duress), half my medical records, where I was from (with a few miles' approximation), where I'd been in the last year (awful place that it was) and would probably continue if I didn't interrupt him exclaiming: "Amazing!". Believe me or not, that shut him up.
"That's unusual" he replied after a couple seconds.
"Mull it over" the officer said with a smirk. "If I only knew it was so easy! Thank you so very much, doctor...?" he asked, then.
"Watson" I answered "John Watson" ...so, ok, I've seen too much Bond, but how could I resist? "I'm happy I helped, really, but...do you mind enlightening me?" I inquired.
"Don't see why not. You've saved me from going crazy, after all. That's the problem with hitech, I guess...it does everything perfectly, but what you want it to do" the policeman agreed.
"Hitech?" I parroted.
"Latest model poly-analysis android. It looks perfectly like normal people, too, so we won't be spooked or something...it's not ugly, even. Oh well, the analysis part works well enough – you've seen for yourself – but the something- filter got damaged, as well as the core about robot laws – not my field, I fear. As a result, we have a piece of scrap who analyses anything he comes in contact with, not only what he's supposed to. She's the result. And we've been warned – though thank God it didn't happen yet – that it could attack people it deems an immediate threat...when he is not supposed to. He is not. That's where we Yarders are supposed to come in. Even if we wanted to use an android for the work we wouldn't use an analytic one – and we decide when and whom gets attacked, dammit!" he all but yelled.
"What will happen to it, then?" I investigated. It had me enthralled, I'll admit. His – its, sorry, had to go back and rewrite last sentence too, if I don't proofread expect a lot he/his about the android in the future - analysis felt like a magic show, and this officer was right, he [see? ;) ] was far from ugly – will post photo soon, I promise.
"Since the analysis side was so good, we thought we'd use it anyway, and terminate it the moment it hurt someone. To be honest, though, I was going to scrap it tomorrow. It got us all edgy, as you can see" the inspector confessed.
"Don't!" I pleaded. Yes, pleaded. You don't "scrap" masterpieces. You just don't.
"I'll keep it" I said suddenly.
"Doctor...have you heard me? It's a defective, possibly dangerous product – and forgive me, but I don't think you'll find it very useful. There are much simpler ways to obtain the data you'll need – ones which don't drive you bonkers – and..." the man objected.
"Come on" I insisted "you don't want him anyway! I don't find him defective, I find him wondrous, and I don't really believe he's dangerous. If I bring him home I highly doubt he'll deem the landlady a threat, after all. And – look, he's been quiet. I know I have no work for him, not worthy of him, but...perhaps you could phone me when you need him and I'll bring him wherever and...if I manage to keep him semi-quiet wouldn't it be good?".
"You're confusing it with a person, and that'll be your doom, trust me...but since you really really want it, and it's true it's a kind of pity to trash it, if you do manage to control it...we do collaborate with your institute" the inspector replied.
"Inspector Gregson! That's government property!" the wench – Donovan – interjected.
"Ah, but he'll bring it around for work, won't he? And you don't really want to have it around any longer than you need to" Gregson told her off.
"Of course I will. I swear! Then, can I bring him with me...if he's done with his work here?" I said.
"Please do" Gregson agreed with a sigh.
Since he was apparently still mulling over my anomaly, I turned to ask what I was supposed to do.
"S.H.2!" Gregson barked.
"Yes?" he answered.
"You're following Dr. Watson. Try not to drive him nuts, will you?" the inspector ordered.
He turned to me (I've decided it's too much of a hassle to go back and change it all back to it – deal with it) and quietly asked: "Where do we go?".
"Home" I said, on impulse...and here we are.