daredevilkink | Prompt Post #1

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Prompt Post #1

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i apologize for my entire lack of skill in writing crime plots. i tried. it's just a way to get everyone interactin'

"So, what did you think of their lawyers?" Joan asked. She and Sherlock were standing in the hallway at the precinct, having just finished interviewing a suspect in their newest case. Filling up a new paper cup of coffee, she took a sip and made a face. Coffee at police stations was always mouth-meltingly strong.

"New to the profession, I'd wager, but clearly capable," Sherlock observed, his mouth twisting. "Interesting set of bruises on the blind fellow, did you notice?"

Joan had. "I did wonder why a lawyer would have boxer's fracture. And he was trying to hide it."

"Well, apart from that puzzle, the interview was quite useless, the suspect had no idea what I was talking about."

"There still running some tests on that blood from the crime scene," Joan reminded him. "The techs said there was some kind of… unknown element in it. We'll hear soon."

"Indeed, and until then let us decamp back to the brownstone, and review our scant evidence."

Sherlock had placed Clyde on the table, where he munched calmly on a lettuce leaf. Joan came in, carrying two mugs of tea, and sat on the couch. "Okay, let's go over this again."

"One male victim, Harold Greene, aged 37, found dead in his flat yesterday morning. Cause of death - blunt force trauma to the head and body. Evidence suggests the presence of two further people, one, presumably our criminal, and another - an accomplice, perhaps? But the violence was carried out by one man, judging by the pattern of the blows."

"A second victim, maybe?" Joan suggested, sipping her tea. "We had three sets of footprints - Greene's, and two others. And look, these marks here could be someone being dragged - oh, but it looks like its towards the window. So maybe not."

"Don't dismiss the idea so quickly, Watson," Holmes said. "It is indeed possible this was an abduction gone wrong, although we have no idea whom the abductee might be."

Holmes's cell rang abruptly. "Captain," he answered, putting the phone on speaker. "The lab results?"

"No, and you're not gonna believe this," Gregson's tinny voice came out of the phone. "Apparently, somebody left an unconscious man outside the emergency room of Metro General this morning. He woke up, asked to see us. Wants to confess to the murder of Harold Greene."

Joan and Sherlock made their way up to the second floor of the hospital. Gregson was waiting outside of the man's room, and he looked up as they approached. Sherlock followed him and Joan into the room. The nurse inside looked up, and Joan stopped abruptly. Gregson didn't notice, but Sherlock watched with interest as she met the eyes of the nurse, who looked equally off kilter.

"…Claire?" Joan said, sounding uncertain. She glanced back at Sherlock, who could tell from her sudden shift in posture that she was going to hide something.

"Oh my god, Joan? What are you doing here?" The nurse said, half reaching out a hand and then, apparently, changing her mind.

"We're with the NYPD," Gregson answered, "this man requested our presence."

"NYPD?" The nurse asked, "Ok, right, I'll leave you to it." She moved past them to the door but paused, minutely, to look back at Joan before leaving.

Interesting, Sherlock thought.

The man in the hospital bed admitted to beating Greene to death, using both his own hands and feet and a metal pipe that he later hid in the wall of the dilapidated flat before, apparently, being interrupted…

"It was that guy from the news, the devil guy, in the costume. He must'a come in through the window off the fire escape, but I didn't hear him… then all of a sudden he's hittin' me, throws me against the wall and says if I don't go to the police, he'll throw me out the window. I get a few hits in, but this guy - he's angry, he - he yells that I killed Harry, that I'm a murderer, that he's not gonna tell me again. I tell him he can go fuck himself, running around in a Halloween costume like some kid or something, and then he swings at me, hard and I wake up here. He … left this for me to find under the pillow." He shows them a folded page that say "I'll know if you run".

"Daredevil? The guy that took down Fisk a few months ago?" Joan asked, looking surprised. "I thought he didn't stray far from Hell's Kitchen."

Sherlock and she moved into the hallway as Gregson booked the guy. "Our city's very own vigilante," Sherlock mused, looking pensive. "A conundrum in his own right."

"You don't approve?" Joan asked.

"No, no," Sherlock gestured expressively. "I was very glad to see Fisk exposed. The phenomenon is, still, an unusual one. The anger, and the frustration… the desire to take justice into one's own hands… I understand it well."

Joan thought back to M. To Kitty. To Elana March, who's death Joan had not, really, been angry about. She understood, too.

"Anyway, Watson, you're not going to wriggle out of telling me who that nurse was who took you so off guard. A former coworker?" Sherlock shook his head as if clearing his thoughts.

To his surprise, Joan's cheeks turned slightly pink. "Oh," she evaded, "a - friend, from back in the day. We did work together for a while."

Sherlock blinked. "You - were romantically involved." He stated. Joan said nothing.
"I wasn't aware your - romantic tasted were quite so varied. Although I am not entirely surprised."

"It was - years ago, my second or third year out of med school," she replied, and her cheeks went a bit pinker.

"This is the first time us discussing your love life has caused a reaction," Sherlock noted, gesturing to his face.

"She - it was a nice few months," Joan said, "I was happy."

"And what happened?"

"Oh, you know," Joan shrugged, "she moved, I was busy becoming a surgeon."

In a few days they get the lab results back - the dead man had been shooting up some kind of drug, but something new. It was like PCP, but - different, chemically, and nothing like they'd seen before.

"A new street drug," Joan said, "that doesn't bode well for anyone."

Bell nodded grimly. "And our Mr. Greene conveniently left that part of the equation out. We're gonna go talk to him again, see if he can shed any light on this stuff."

"We'll accompany you, then," Sherlock offered.

"You go," Joan told him. "I'm - meeting someone for coffee."

Bell went to retrieve his jacket. "Someone being a certain nurse?" Sherlock guessed shrewdly.

Joan gave him a small smile. "I'll see you later, text me if you find anything, OK?"

She got their first, and sat at a table by the window. She put her hair up, then, reconsidering, let it back down. Claire had always liked playing with her hair. The waiter came by and she ordered a cappuccino. It was weird - she was actually a little nervous.

The bell on the door jingled and a familiar face slid into the chair opposite. Claire was in scrubs, and she looked - older - and tired. But she smiled genuinely as she gazed at Joan.

"Joan, God, it was a shock seeing you," she said, and laughed. "A good one, of course."

Joan smiled back. "It's been so long, I almost didn't recognize you. You look great! I like the hair."

Claire ran a hand over the shaved patch. "I would kill for some caffeine. Night shifts are hell."

"I remember," Joan said. "I don't miss it."

"So what brought you to the hospital with a bunch of cops?" Claire flagged down the waiter, ordered a large espresso.

"I'm actually a consultant," Joan replied. "My partner and I work with the detectives."

As always, this led to talk about weird work stories. Claire was a good audience, although she joked that it wasn't fair, since all her gross injury stories wouldn't phase Joan. Eventually, Joan told her about how and why Greene had confessed.

"So - Daredevil was the guy who dropped him off at the hospital?" Claire asked, later, as Joan told her about the case. She didn't usually discuss details with anyone but her colleagues, but - what harm could it do?

"I guess so," Joan said. "He must be strong. We think there's some kind of drug related angle to the thing, because the victim had some really weird stuff in his veins. Something new."

They'd moved closer together as they'd talked, and now Joan could see just how tired Claire looked. She wondered if Claire was seeing anyone.

Her phone dinged.

GRN INVLVD W/ DRUG. NO NAME YT. OMW 2 LAB.

"Do you have to go?" Claire asked.

"We got our test results," Joan said, apologetically. "And you must be wanting to get some sleep - all I wanted to do after a long shift was pass out. I won't keep you."

Claire groaned. "God, sleep - I wish. I've got to go feed my neighbor's cat. He's a bastard."

"Actually," Joan started, her mouth working before she could think. "Can I have your number? Um, I mean, if you don't mind? We can figure out when we're both free."

Claire grinned. "Definitely."

"So," Claire said, much later and taping a large bandage onto a cut in Matt's side. "Somebody dumped an unconscious guy outside the ER today. Turns out that he's involved in a murder investigation. Weird coincidence, huh?"

"Oh yeah," Matt said, "that was me, by the way."

"She also said that the guy he killed was using some kind of new drug, something weird. In case someone is interested in that information."

Matt shot her a smirk. "That almost sounds like you're telling me to look into it."

"Your words, not mine," Claire retorted. "Anyway, you're all set. Watch the arm."

"Thank you, Claire," he said, before doing the window thing.

What's interesting is that in the next two days they get three accidental overdoses through the ER during her shift. It wasn't any drug they could immediately recognize, and Claire immediately thought about Joan's case. Should she call…? It would be an excuse to talk, maybe to get together again. Claire definitely wouldn't mind seeing Joan again. For a drink, this time, and maybe…

It'd been years, she knew. Joan might be dating someone. She might be… married, or divorced, or anything. She'd said she worked with her partner, which was annoyingly ambiguous.

Her phone rang.

"Joan?"

"Hey, Claire," Joan said. "I was wondering if you'd like to get a drink with me? Tonight?"

OP:

*makes teakettle noises* Anon, you are a gift and this is spectacular and it's everything I wanted and then some -- clyde! CASEFIC! sherlock & joan deducing Matt! totally believable Claire/Joan! UGH. PERFECT.

Oh I love everything about this and I can't wait for more!

This is amazing and adorable. Claire/Joan is a great pairing.

Eeeeeeeeeeee!

This is amazing!

Can't wait to see where this goes!

Awesome!

Oh man, this is great! You really nailed all the characters' voices perfectly. Also, Claire/Joan is a pairing I never knew I needed. :D

ANON, I DON'T THINK YOU UNDERSTAND HOW MUCH I ADORE YOU RIGHT NOW. I hope you please do continue bc this is great.

*bounces up and down* eeeeeee

This is so good! You've somehow nailed all the character voices and fused the universes perfectly?! You wizard. <3

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