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More Sheep
This is a sequel to the Sheep Fic. You should know that this was mostly written by ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
goldy_dollar without any prompting from me. Who knew sheep were such a muse?
"Oh, it's you two again," said Sherlock from over John's shoulder, sounding even more bored (which was remarkable really since a moment before he had been experimenting with leaving the stove burner on to test how long it would take the fire alarm to go off). "We already solved your case. Go away."
"That's right," said John, "the Scottish case, wasn't it? With the... er... dead... sheep..."
"Yeah, that case," said Elena, arm shooting out and forcing the door wide open. She shot Sherlock a look. "You were wrong. Stefan didn't do it."
"Of course he did it," said Sherlock. "By the simple fact that I am never wrong."
"He says he didn't do it," Elena continued, ignoring him, "and I believe him."
"Fine," said Sherlock in a voice that told John it wasn't really "fine" at all, but that Sherlock was at least mildly intrigued. "Come in."
"What?" said John, rounding on him. "Are you insane? Have you not watched a single vampire film? The first rule of dealing with vampires is never invite them in!"
Sherlock shrugged. "I was bored."
"So you invited a blood sucking murderer into our flat?!"
"Hey, Stefan isn't like that!" said Elena. "....except that one time, but there were very complicated circumstances then."
John held his face in his hands. "That will be such a comfort when I'm being eaten alive in the middle of the night."
Stefan rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I can get you some vervain if you'd like. It acts as a sort of... vampire repellent. If you have it on you or near you, I won't be able to drink from you."
Elena shot him a proud look like this was one of the noblest gestures she'd ever seen.
John felt nauseous.
Sherlock cleared his throat. "I believe you wanted to talk about the sheep?"
"Yes," said Elena, "about that... see, Stefan has this brother."
"He's kind of.... how should I put this..."
"He's psychotic," Elena finished.
"Oh, he's psychotic," said John, shooting Sherlock a look. "What could that ever look like?"
"Right, the source of your guilt issues and rampant emoing," said Sherlock. "I already knew all that."
"Yeah, but what you don't know," said Elena, "is that he's sort of been.... I guess you could say, he's been.... trolling Stefan for the last 145 years."
Stefan opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with that description and then shut it before giving an appreciative nod of his head.
Sherlock snapped his fingers. "So the brother killed your sheep."
"Yes!" said Stefan and Elena at the same time.
"Honestly, I think he's just jealous," said Stefan. "He never could stand it when I was happy for any length of time."
Elena nodded. "It's obviously just a cry for attention."
"Does he by any chance have an attack crow?" John asked.
Elena and Stefan nodded again.
John sat down. Heavily. This day was growing more bizarre by the moment.
"We'll just let him stay in the attic for a few weeks and pretend like he's really getting on our nerves," Elena explained, "that usually makes him feel better."
Sherlock made a noise of disgust. "So your solution is to reward the bad behaviour? You two deserved what happened to the sheep."
John fidgeted, thinking of the times he rewarded Sherlock's bad behaviour. It wasn't as if his enabling ever resulted in dead sheep though, just...body parts around the flat. Already-dead body parts, that is. He should really think about putting a stop to that one of these days.
"So hold on. Sherlock, you do know this means you were wrong."
"Nonsense, John. Unforeseen facts were withheld, causing an erroneous deduction. Hardly my fault."
"Yeah, sounds like a load to me."
Stefan and Elena nodded.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't wrong about 'liking' sheep, was I, Stefan?" asked Sherlock, the air quotes palpable.
"I think we're done here!" Stefan announced a little too loudly. "Come on, Elena! Don't we have a fair to get to?" He pulled Elena towards the door.
Elena stopped. "Okay, first of all, don't drag me. What is it with vampires and needing to force their will all the time? And second, the sheep thing is okay, Stefan. I don't mind."
"Really?"
"Really."
They smiled goofily at each other as they meandered out the door.
"Right, so that annoyance out of the way, time to get a fresh stock of fingers from the morgue. Come along, John."
As John followed Sherlock out towards a taxi, he had a vague feeling he should be remembering something. Something about bad behaviour? Must have been something about vampires.
"So seriously, are we getting paid?"
Sherlock shot John an incredulous look.
"Damn vampires," John muttered.
goldy_dollar without any prompting from me. Who knew sheep were such a muse?"Oh, it's you two again," said Sherlock from over John's shoulder, sounding even more bored (which was remarkable really since a moment before he had been experimenting with leaving the stove burner on to test how long it would take the fire alarm to go off). "We already solved your case. Go away."
"That's right," said John, "the Scottish case, wasn't it? With the... er... dead... sheep..."
"Yeah, that case," said Elena, arm shooting out and forcing the door wide open. She shot Sherlock a look. "You were wrong. Stefan didn't do it."
"Of course he did it," said Sherlock. "By the simple fact that I am never wrong."
"He says he didn't do it," Elena continued, ignoring him, "and I believe him."
"Fine," said Sherlock in a voice that told John it wasn't really "fine" at all, but that Sherlock was at least mildly intrigued. "Come in."
"What?" said John, rounding on him. "Are you insane? Have you not watched a single vampire film? The first rule of dealing with vampires is never invite them in!"
Sherlock shrugged. "I was bored."
"So you invited a blood sucking murderer into our flat?!"
"Hey, Stefan isn't like that!" said Elena. "....except that one time, but there were very complicated circumstances then."
John held his face in his hands. "That will be such a comfort when I'm being eaten alive in the middle of the night."
Stefan rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I can get you some vervain if you'd like. It acts as a sort of... vampire repellent. If you have it on you or near you, I won't be able to drink from you."
Elena shot him a proud look like this was one of the noblest gestures she'd ever seen.
John felt nauseous.
Sherlock cleared his throat. "I believe you wanted to talk about the sheep?"
"Yes," said Elena, "about that... see, Stefan has this brother."
"He's kind of.... how should I put this..."
"He's psychotic," Elena finished.
"Oh, he's psychotic," said John, shooting Sherlock a look. "What could that ever look like?"
"Right, the source of your guilt issues and rampant emoing," said Sherlock. "I already knew all that."
"Yeah, but what you don't know," said Elena, "is that he's sort of been.... I guess you could say, he's been.... trolling Stefan for the last 145 years."
Stefan opened his mouth like he wanted to argue with that description and then shut it before giving an appreciative nod of his head.
Sherlock snapped his fingers. "So the brother killed your sheep."
"Yes!" said Stefan and Elena at the same time.
"Honestly, I think he's just jealous," said Stefan. "He never could stand it when I was happy for any length of time."
Elena nodded. "It's obviously just a cry for attention."
"Does he by any chance have an attack crow?" John asked.
Elena and Stefan nodded again.
John sat down. Heavily. This day was growing more bizarre by the moment.
"We'll just let him stay in the attic for a few weeks and pretend like he's really getting on our nerves," Elena explained, "that usually makes him feel better."
Sherlock made a noise of disgust. "So your solution is to reward the bad behaviour? You two deserved what happened to the sheep."
John fidgeted, thinking of the times he rewarded Sherlock's bad behaviour. It wasn't as if his enabling ever resulted in dead sheep though, just...body parts around the flat. Already-dead body parts, that is. He should really think about putting a stop to that one of these days.
"So hold on. Sherlock, you do know this means you were wrong."
"Nonsense, John. Unforeseen facts were withheld, causing an erroneous deduction. Hardly my fault."
"Yeah, sounds like a load to me."
Stefan and Elena nodded.
Sherlock's eyes narrowed. "I wasn't wrong about 'liking' sheep, was I, Stefan?" asked Sherlock, the air quotes palpable.
"I think we're done here!" Stefan announced a little too loudly. "Come on, Elena! Don't we have a fair to get to?" He pulled Elena towards the door.
Elena stopped. "Okay, first of all, don't drag me. What is it with vampires and needing to force their will all the time? And second, the sheep thing is okay, Stefan. I don't mind."
"Really?"
"Really."
They smiled goofily at each other as they meandered out the door.
"Right, so that annoyance out of the way, time to get a fresh stock of fingers from the morgue. Come along, John."
As John followed Sherlock out towards a taxi, he had a vague feeling he should be remembering something. Something about bad behaviour? Must have been something about vampires.
"So seriously, are we getting paid?"
Sherlock shot John an incredulous look.
"Damn vampires," John muttered.
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I can't believe Sherlock related fic is the only thing I've been able to write this summer. *flops*
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http://trillsabells.livejournal.com/15815.html
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http://annlarimer.livejournal.com/953501.html
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http://archiveofourown.org/series/5653
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O_o
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*sporfle* Excellent follow up :D
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