MST: Uh Oh...Not Again....

Chapter 3

by Maureen S. O'Brien (mobrien at
9/11 - 9/12/02

Chapter Three: Revenge of the Crossover

Just then, a note fluttered down into Harry's lap.

Harry: "Don't worry. The next story won't leave you all hanging. And you will all understand it. Mwa ha ha!"

Holmes: Obviously not written by Mary. Eyes and brains, my dear Harry, eyes and brains.

Harry: (looks up) It's signed 'Mary'.

Holmes: (waves his hand airily) Forged.

Harry: It's the same kind of paper.

Holmes: Stolen.

Harry: There's a picture. Of Irene Adler.

Holmes: What?!

Harry (grins): Just winding you up.

Lestrade (smirks): I wondered if you'd recognized Holmes.

Ginny: (confused) What are you talking about?

Harry (to Ginny): Muggle journalism. I think Hermione's got a copy of the book about Mr. Holmes here. She'll lend it to you.

Ginny (nods): Maybe I can write a report on it for Muggle Studies.

Holmes: Just don't include anything you learn here. This isn't representative behavior.

Ginny: You know, that's just what Harry always says about the Dursleys!

A sheaf of papers floated into Lestrade's hands.

Lestrade: And another thing. Do you know how wasteful it is to use real paper for this sort of thing? Why not just upload it to my handheld?

Holmes: Just read, Lestrade. The sooner you're done, the sooner we're gone from here.

Ginny: You hope. (shivers) I just wish I could see where this place keeps its brains.

Lestrade: It doesn't have any! And neither does...
(looks down at paper) Maureen S. O'Brien, whoever she is.

Harry: Who?

Lestrade: (reads from papers)

>by Maureen S. O'Brien
>(mobrien at

Holmes: Her email address? A very trusting woman.


Lestrade: So this starts 4 years ago, in 2100.

Holmes: I doubt it. The syntax and word choice in these stories has consistently been that of the early twenty-first century.

Harry: Then why do we need to know when the story was written?

Ginny (shrugs) Do we need to comment on little details?

>Lestrade's com chimed for attention, and she sighed and pushed her plate back. That chime meant the call was from Holmes, and -that- meant she wasn't likely to get any more time for dinner tonight.

Lestrade: (pleasantly surprised) So true.

Ginny and Harry: (look at Holmes)

Holmes: (folds his arms and tries to look imperturbable)

Lestrade: Maybe this time I'll get to be in character.

>She strode briskly to her console and touched for acceptance. "What do you want?" she said baldly.

Holmes: With all her usual politesse.

Lestrade: (hurt) I said I was sorry about the artifact remark.

>"I don't think I want to say over this comlink," Holmes said calmly, but his eyes stared into hers with steady purpose. "However, I think that if you drop by Baker Street -- take the tube -- you might find something of interest to you.

Lestrade: It better be dire for me to take the zedding Tube.

Harry: I like the Tube!

Lestrade: Different Tube. Yours is that thing that used to run through the Underground. This is a elevated monorail that goes from spacescraper to spacescraper through the city.

Harry: Oh. But it still sounds pretty good.

Ginny: My dad would like it.

Lestrade: (trying to be just) It's okay. Except in summer, when it smells. But if God had meant us to get around on mass transit, He wouldn't've let us learn to build flying cars!

Ginny: Muggles have flying cars, too?

Holmes: Might we finish the story sometime this century?

Lestrade: (glares and continues reading)

>Wear civilian clothing," he added as an afterthought. "Something formal. Something white."

Ginny: White? I hate white. It picks up dirt so easily.

Lestrade: Which is why I avoid having it in my closet. Maybe this isn't in character after all.

>"White?" He said nothing in reply. "Civilian clothes? Something interesting me personally, then?"

>"Yes. Coming, Lestrade?"

>That same damned inquiry, the one he always made when she wasn't moving fast enough to suit him.

Lestrade: Preach it, sister.

>He -knew- just how annoying she found that tone of challenge in his voice -- so annoying she'd damn near kill herself to prove she could keep up.

Holmes: (looks annoyingly smug) Do my ears deceive me, or do I hear an "Amen"?

Lestrade: (death glare)

Harry and Ginny: (giggles)

>"Yes," she scowled now. "Just let me finish dinner first, okay?"

>"Oh, finish your supper first, by all means. You'll need to keep up your strength." He gave her that amused look, the one that said 'too bad you don't know what's going on', and blanked the screen.

>"That's Holmes," she told herself. Then she sat down and tried to eat her dinner at a reasonable speed instead of the breakneck gobble she usually used to down her food when on cases. But now curiosity was eating her alive, exactly as Holmes had intended. She shoveled down a few more bites, then threw her plate into the stasis box and fished out a yummibar to fill out her nutritional needs for the night. Yummibars in her opinion weren't, but they were quick and stuck to her ribs. She ate a lot of yummibars.

Lestrade: I do not! I can cook!

Holmes: And frozen dinners are one of the essential food groups.

Lestrade: (shrugs) Well, sure. Right up there with dead animal, caffeine, chocolate, curry, and rabbit food.

Holmes: A lovely explanation of nutritional theory.

Lestrade: You didn't complain back when you were living with me.

Ginny and Harry: (trade glances of realization)

Holmes and Lestrade: It wasn't like that!

Harry: (embarrassed) Er, no need to explain.

Lestrade: (frantic) But we didn't!

Ginny: (blushing) It's none of our business, really.

Lestrade: Augh! (gets up and begins banging her head on the wall)

Holmes: (gets up and catches Lestrade by the shoulders) Damaging your brain will not improve the situation.

Lestrade: (talking to the wall) I'm an idiot!

Holmes: You've been under stress, you hardly ate a thing, and you're entirely in the power of beings with mysterious powers and silly intent.

Lestrade: Who are out of range.

Holmes: (chuckles) Yes. (sobers) In a moment you will regain your composure.

Holmes: (turns back to Harry and Ginny. Holmes has turned pale and stern with sheer mortification) Inspector Lestrade kindly let me sleep on her couch until I could get my own lodgings. Nothing occurred to compromise her honor or mine. Clear?

Harry: (swallows hard) Crystal.

Ginny: (nods vigorously)

Holmes: Good. (turns back toward Lestrade's back) Why don't we sit down?

Ginny: (whispers to Harry) A bit protective of her, isn't he?

Harry: (grins)

Holmes: (still with his back turned) No, Ginny, I'm merely acting as a gentleman should.

Ginny: (her eyes widen)

Harry: (mouthes words exaggeratedly but doesn't speak) Good ears!

Ginny: (nods)

Holmes: (Now turned back around, he catches Harry's eye.)
(Sternly) I think the Inspector could murder a cup of tea. With cream and honey. And a biscuit.

Harry: Er...yeah. (gets up hurriedly to get it)

Lestrade: (giving Holmes an odd look) My virgin ears weren't *that* offended. I'm not going to faint dead away or anything.

Holmes: (amused) No, you didn't bash your head against the wall nearly hard enough. You have a very thick skull.

Harry: (looks inside the teapot) The water's getting cold.
(points his wand at the teapot water) Aquaestuate!
(pours now-boiling water into cup over teaball, makes tea and brings it to Lestrade)

Lestrade: (takes cup) Thanks, kid. (looks at biscuit suspiciously, then sighs and eats it)

Holmes: And now, I will take my turn reading the story. In my own way.

Ginny, Harry and Lestrade: (look at Holmes uneasily)

>After a quick rummage, Ginny found some actual white formal civilian clothes -- a dress, even.

Ginny: What?!

Holmes: It's a crossover.

Harry: Since when?

Holmes: I wouldn't want you two to feel left out, so I'm letting you play our parts.

Ginny and Harry: That's not fair!

Lestrade: (not overly sympathetic) I don't know, I think Holmes is going pretty easy on you. I'm sure he can think up something much worse.

Holmes: Oh, easily. For instance....

Harry: Thatsquiteallrightdogoonwiththestory.

Ginny: (miserably) Er, please.

Holmes: I would be happy to. (clears throat)

>Thank God for summer dinners with Dad's professorial cronies, 'cause she didn't wear dresses or white as a general rule. Her Yardie whites invited more than enough stains. Ginny brushed her teeth and got the taste of the yummibar out of her mouth.

>Harry now -- Harry didn't eat yummibars. Of course, Harry had Weasley as a roommate, and Weasley loved to cook.

Ginny: (snorts) Not likely.

Lestrade: Weasley? I've heard that name before....

Harry: I thought you said you didn't know who we are!

Holmes: I had a sudden epiphany. "Knowledge of Sensational Literature" and all that.

Ginny: (staring suspiciously at Holmes) I think I've just been insulted, but I can't work out how.

>She wasn't sure why. One of those creative impulses robots weren't supposed to have.

Harry: (looks bewildered)

Ginny: My brother is not a row-bod! Whatever that is!

Lestrade: Your brother's name is...? (covers her eyes with her hands) Oh, zed. Wizards and kids named Harry. Sensational literature. So you're that Harry Potter. Zeeeeeeed.

>You could've argued that the writing was part of his attempt to perfectly simulate the original Weasley, but Ronald Weasley, M.D. would probably have been happier if he'd never touched a pan in his life. Ron liked eating in pricy restaurants. This Weasley, obviously barred from tasting his own creations, loved nothing better than to watch other people make them disappear. Maybe it was a performance art thing.

Ginny: This makes no sense!

Lestrade: Don't worry. The personal humiliation will start soon.

>Maybe he'd have some leftovers around, if Harry was in picking at his food mode and the Irregulars hadn't been around real recently. Yeah. Maybe.

Harry: This isn't so bad.

Lestrade: Just wait.

>She entered the monorail as it hit the station, and promptly lost control of her train of thought. What was Harry up to? What did he know? What did he want from her? Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry, Harry.

Harry and Ginny: (look away from each other and blush)

Lestrade: I hate to say I told you so, but....

Harry and Ginny: (depressed) ...You told us so.

>She made an annoyed face at herself in the window as she watched the lights of the city go by below her. Before she'd revived

Holmes: Er, met...

>him, she'd been a workaholic, overachieving, slightly crazed New Scotland Yard Auror who still occasionally had thoughts to call her own. Now they all revolved around that damned Harry and his schemes and his deductions and those

Holmes: (peering at Harry) Green.

>eyes staring out of that entirely overhandsome face....

Lestrade: (looks up at the ceiling expressionlessly)

>The computer voice softly announced that this was Baker Street, and she belatedly woke up and pushed herself out of the car and onto the platform before the automatic doors had time to shut her in and whisk her off to the next station. She much preferred her broomstick.

Holmes: (chuckles)

Lestrade: Say it and die, Holmes.

Holmes: (innocently) I have no idea what you're talking about.

On to Part 4!

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