Post by hawksandfeathers on Jan 7, 2013 10:22:14 GMT 10
Title: 221B Baker Street, Corus
Summary: In which Alex and Gary go on many mysterious adventures. Alex is the parallel to Sherlock, Gary to Watson. A sort-of crossover.
Rating: PG
Warning: Occasional drug use.
Author's Notes: Has major BBC Sherlock influences. Alex is not evil; canon has been twisted. Multi-chapter.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson and other future characters are property to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
221b Baker Street, Corus
Chapter 1
It was a hot day in Corus, and no one in their right mind would be walking in the marketplace. I was, but then again (as I was frequently reminded) I wasn't in my right mind. My limp caused me to look down: it had become a reflex. Plodding steadily along, I was preparing to commend myself on a walk without a fall, when the ground rumbled. My leg buckled, the bone popped. I windmilled furiously and collapsed in an undignified pile of robes. I tasted dust, and dirt was in my hair - not that it wasn't dirt-coloured already.
"Gary, old boy!" A man's gauntleted hand stretched out to mine warmly. "There's so much of you to lift!" He heaved me up with one hand, bringing me level with his chin. His sloe-black eyes glinted wickedly.
"Raoul?" I stood there stunned. "I haven't seen you in years."
"My last memory of you was a lanky adolescent with a horse to big for his rump." His laugh was full-throated and indulgent.
"I'll have you know - "
Raoul held up a finger tauntingly. "Tell me what you've been up to."
"I've been avoiding Father - "
"Good luck with that."
I sighed. "And I'm trying to get a job. Do you know of any palaces that accept Prime Ministers with limps?" I stiffened unconsciously.
"Right." Raoul's eyes shadowed. "Jon."
"And I'd like to get a place in the city."
"Oh?" Raoul raised an eyebrow.
I knew what he was thinking. "No, I don't have the money. Do you know anyone who wants to share?"
Raoul laughed again, this time for a full minute. "Someone else asked me that today," he said, eyes watering.
"Who?" I asked, hoping Raoul hadn't tricked me into sharing a room with an enemy corporal.
"Alex of Tirragen. Have you met him?" He fought a grin.
"The name's familiar." In my hearing, he'd been called an eccentric good-for-nothing, an arrogant busybody, and other things I didn't want to think about. "Are you suggesting I'd share a place with him?"
"Yes - I think you'd like him. Can you use a horse?"
I grimaced. "No, I'll walk."
"That's you all over, Gary, I'm taking you in a carriage."
"Where, exactly?"
"The Royal University," he answered, lips tight.
We arrived there quickly. Raoul paid no attention to his young admirers, shaking his head. "If they wanted to become knights and skip that poxy university career, they should've run away from their parents."
I snorted. "We're going to the Sciences unit?" I said, noticing the sign ahead of us.
Raoul nodded. "He's probably still in the lab, dabbling with the vinegar."
"Don't you ever tell me anything?" I said frustratedly, trying to keep up with him. "Who is dabbling with the vinegar?"
"Alex of Tirragen, of course," Raoul called over his shoulder, turning into the lab.
It was quiet, the lights were dimmed. Only one man was working there, probably Alex. I heard a clank and a shatter and winced.
"Alex?" Raoul boomed. "We're here."
The man came into the light, deliberately. He was quite tall, and a mop of curly black hair almost covered his dark eyes. "Hello." He nodded to me. His robes were solemn and grey, and looked worn.
"Hello," I said conversationally. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, an experiment. Raoul here knows."
"He's just being dramatic," Raoul said, rolling his eyes. "It's vinegar and copper."
"But Raoul," he said wearily, sighing in my direction with something of an apology, "It can change Tortall."
"And Scanra, if you're not careful. You're not on our side. It's not a secret to us."
"You're allied with the Scanrans?" I exclaimed. Why would Raoul try to house me with a supporter?
"No," Alex laughed. "But I'm not exactly a patriot."
"Ah."
"You've just been from Scanra." It wasn't a question.
"How did you know?" I didn't look Scanran, did I? I felt my growing beard.
"Well, first of all, everyone's coming back from Scanra, and second, your skin is chapped. You also have a limp."
"I noticed."
Alex gave no sign that he knew he offended me, and brought out some tea. "I'm at 221B Baker Street. Can I meet you there tonight, and we'll discuss the gold?"
"I never told you I was interested."
"Oh, well, now I know. I must go, I have to meet a friend."
"Fine. Goodbye," I replied tersely.
Alex strode out of the room, not looking back.
Raoul smiled at me. "What do you think? Are you going?"
"Ha."
"Gary, I know he grates on the nerves - he's worse than Wyldon - but you need the money."
"That's certainly true."
"You can get used to him."
"Baker Street is nice. And there's a bookshop right there."
"Mmhm." Raoul nodded.
"Yes, I think I'll do it."
"Wonderful," Raoul said, extinguishing the lamps with his fingers. "Let's get to the carriage."
Later that night, I made my way to 221B, worried he wouldn't show up. It was very dark, and there was no moon. I could barely see the door knocker. Nevertheless, I found it and rapped loudly, sending a raccoon into the trees.
Alex opened the door suddenly, almost blocking the peachy-yellow light coming from inside. "You came."
"Of course I came," I snapped.
"I'll show you the house." He moved aside, revealing a neat vestibule with a thrush-covered floor.
I crossed the threshold with the sickening feeling of missing a step.
"Go on," Alex said impatiently. "My experiment is curdling, and I can't let it harden."
"Hmh," I grunted. "Why aren't you at your home fief?"
"Why aren't you at your home fief?"
"I - "
"Don't answer. Sibling rivalry, favouritism, pressure on the oldest son. Easy."
I gaped for a second. "Is this like a test to you? Uncovering my life?" This man was a spy; he'd even hinted at it. "I'm leaving."
"No, please don't." Alex's eyes softened. "First impression aren't reliable." He actually looked pleading.
"If I so much as see one piece of evidence that exposes you as a spy, the pay falls on you."
"I accept your terms."
"Understand?" I asked further, annoyed by his phrasing.
He nodded. "Now, we start."
"Start what? Can I sit? My leg's aching." I rubbed it, channelling my irritation.
"Go ahead. Do you have a good map? I lost all of mine."
I thought he was organized. Rummaging in my breeches pockets, I pulled out a letter.
"What is that?" Alex was on it like a cat.
"It's private."
"Nothing's private to me."
"I can make this private, if you like."
"Please." He split the envelope and began to read. "Gareth -" He paused. "Gareth. I never asked you what your name was. And Raoul forgot to introduce us."
I cursed under my breath. "Continue."
He looked at me quizzically. "You want me to read this?"
"I'm resigned."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Pleased to meet you, Gareth."
Summary: In which Alex and Gary go on many mysterious adventures. Alex is the parallel to Sherlock, Gary to Watson. A sort-of crossover.
Rating: PG
Warning: Occasional drug use.
Author's Notes: Has major BBC Sherlock influences. Alex is not evil; canon has been twisted. Multi-chapter.
Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson and other future characters are property to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
221b Baker Street, Corus
Chapter 1
It was a hot day in Corus, and no one in their right mind would be walking in the marketplace. I was, but then again (as I was frequently reminded) I wasn't in my right mind. My limp caused me to look down: it had become a reflex. Plodding steadily along, I was preparing to commend myself on a walk without a fall, when the ground rumbled. My leg buckled, the bone popped. I windmilled furiously and collapsed in an undignified pile of robes. I tasted dust, and dirt was in my hair - not that it wasn't dirt-coloured already.
"Gary, old boy!" A man's gauntleted hand stretched out to mine warmly. "There's so much of you to lift!" He heaved me up with one hand, bringing me level with his chin. His sloe-black eyes glinted wickedly.
"Raoul?" I stood there stunned. "I haven't seen you in years."
"My last memory of you was a lanky adolescent with a horse to big for his rump." His laugh was full-throated and indulgent.
"I'll have you know - "
Raoul held up a finger tauntingly. "Tell me what you've been up to."
"I've been avoiding Father - "
"Good luck with that."
I sighed. "And I'm trying to get a job. Do you know of any palaces that accept Prime Ministers with limps?" I stiffened unconsciously.
"Right." Raoul's eyes shadowed. "Jon."
"And I'd like to get a place in the city."
"Oh?" Raoul raised an eyebrow.
I knew what he was thinking. "No, I don't have the money. Do you know anyone who wants to share?"
Raoul laughed again, this time for a full minute. "Someone else asked me that today," he said, eyes watering.
"Who?" I asked, hoping Raoul hadn't tricked me into sharing a room with an enemy corporal.
"Alex of Tirragen. Have you met him?" He fought a grin.
"The name's familiar." In my hearing, he'd been called an eccentric good-for-nothing, an arrogant busybody, and other things I didn't want to think about. "Are you suggesting I'd share a place with him?"
"Yes - I think you'd like him. Can you use a horse?"
I grimaced. "No, I'll walk."
"That's you all over, Gary, I'm taking you in a carriage."
"Where, exactly?"
"The Royal University," he answered, lips tight.
We arrived there quickly. Raoul paid no attention to his young admirers, shaking his head. "If they wanted to become knights and skip that poxy university career, they should've run away from their parents."
I snorted. "We're going to the Sciences unit?" I said, noticing the sign ahead of us.
Raoul nodded. "He's probably still in the lab, dabbling with the vinegar."
"Don't you ever tell me anything?" I said frustratedly, trying to keep up with him. "Who is dabbling with the vinegar?"
"Alex of Tirragen, of course," Raoul called over his shoulder, turning into the lab.
It was quiet, the lights were dimmed. Only one man was working there, probably Alex. I heard a clank and a shatter and winced.
"Alex?" Raoul boomed. "We're here."
The man came into the light, deliberately. He was quite tall, and a mop of curly black hair almost covered his dark eyes. "Hello." He nodded to me. His robes were solemn and grey, and looked worn.
"Hello," I said conversationally. "What are you working on?"
"Oh, an experiment. Raoul here knows."
"He's just being dramatic," Raoul said, rolling his eyes. "It's vinegar and copper."
"But Raoul," he said wearily, sighing in my direction with something of an apology, "It can change Tortall."
"And Scanra, if you're not careful. You're not on our side. It's not a secret to us."
"You're allied with the Scanrans?" I exclaimed. Why would Raoul try to house me with a supporter?
"No," Alex laughed. "But I'm not exactly a patriot."
"Ah."
"You've just been from Scanra." It wasn't a question.
"How did you know?" I didn't look Scanran, did I? I felt my growing beard.
"Well, first of all, everyone's coming back from Scanra, and second, your skin is chapped. You also have a limp."
"I noticed."
Alex gave no sign that he knew he offended me, and brought out some tea. "I'm at 221B Baker Street. Can I meet you there tonight, and we'll discuss the gold?"
"I never told you I was interested."
"Oh, well, now I know. I must go, I have to meet a friend."
"Fine. Goodbye," I replied tersely.
Alex strode out of the room, not looking back.
Raoul smiled at me. "What do you think? Are you going?"
"Ha."
"Gary, I know he grates on the nerves - he's worse than Wyldon - but you need the money."
"That's certainly true."
"You can get used to him."
"Baker Street is nice. And there's a bookshop right there."
"Mmhm." Raoul nodded.
"Yes, I think I'll do it."
"Wonderful," Raoul said, extinguishing the lamps with his fingers. "Let's get to the carriage."
Later that night, I made my way to 221B, worried he wouldn't show up. It was very dark, and there was no moon. I could barely see the door knocker. Nevertheless, I found it and rapped loudly, sending a raccoon into the trees.
Alex opened the door suddenly, almost blocking the peachy-yellow light coming from inside. "You came."
"Of course I came," I snapped.
"I'll show you the house." He moved aside, revealing a neat vestibule with a thrush-covered floor.
I crossed the threshold with the sickening feeling of missing a step.
"Go on," Alex said impatiently. "My experiment is curdling, and I can't let it harden."
"Hmh," I grunted. "Why aren't you at your home fief?"
"Why aren't you at your home fief?"
"I - "
"Don't answer. Sibling rivalry, favouritism, pressure on the oldest son. Easy."
I gaped for a second. "Is this like a test to you? Uncovering my life?" This man was a spy; he'd even hinted at it. "I'm leaving."
"No, please don't." Alex's eyes softened. "First impression aren't reliable." He actually looked pleading.
"If I so much as see one piece of evidence that exposes you as a spy, the pay falls on you."
"I accept your terms."
"Understand?" I asked further, annoyed by his phrasing.
He nodded. "Now, we start."
"Start what? Can I sit? My leg's aching." I rubbed it, channelling my irritation.
"Go ahead. Do you have a good map? I lost all of mine."
I thought he was organized. Rummaging in my breeches pockets, I pulled out a letter.
"What is that?" Alex was on it like a cat.
"It's private."
"Nothing's private to me."
"I can make this private, if you like."
"Please." He split the envelope and began to read. "Gareth -" He paused. "Gareth. I never asked you what your name was. And Raoul forgot to introduce us."
I cursed under my breath. "Continue."
He looked at me quizzically. "You want me to read this?"
"I'm resigned."
He chuckled, shaking his head. "Pleased to meet you, Gareth."