Green Grass (White Chloroform)Disclaimer:
Joss owns Buffy, Sherlock (BBC) was created by Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss and is based on the works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. I write for fun, not for profit.Summary:
Dawn may or may not kill her sister after all this is over and done with. XIII in the Myffy Chronicles.Warnings:
Slashity slash slash slash. Threesome. A/N 1:
I'm still alive! Just insanely busy and distracted by life.
Buffy watched her sister eat the sandwiches. They were peanut butter and jelly, as Buffy'd been feeling nostalgic when she'd packed the picnic.
“You're not seventeen anymore, are you?” she asked suddenly and Dawn blinked up a her, mouth full of food and mid-chew. Buffy smirked. “Though that look might make me think otherwise.”
Dawn swallowed, taking a long gulp of the water bottle nearby. “What...are you talking about?” she asked.
“I know about what's going on with you and the boys,” she said, purposely not saying their names.
“There's nothing going on with me, John, and Sherlock!” she said and Buffy smiled as her sister's eyes widened. Gotcha. “Crap.”
“Crap indeed,” she agreed. She ignored her sister's scrunched up face. “You wanna talk about it?”
Dawn looked at her warily. “Am I being Punk'd?” Buffy rolled her eyes and Dawn frowned. “Seriously, what the hell, Buffy?”
“I'm your big sister,” she reminded her. “And Mycroft might be willing to be all stiff upper lift about it--”
“Lip,” her sister corrected her. “Still upper lip
“Whatever, point is, we're American's. We talk about our issues,” she said and the two sisters exchanged grins at the old inside joke. “So talk. And I even promise not to tease you about it later. … Much.”
Dawn stared at her a moment before she seemed to deflate in on herself. “I blame you, you know,” she said and Buffy raised a single eyebrow at her. “If you hadn't started dating Mycroft, I wouldn't have met them.”
“I will take responsibility for introducing you, but sweetheart, you got yourself into this all on your own,” Buffy said. “If I remember correctly, I was against you moving into Baker Street in the first place.”
“You have spent way too much time with Mycroft,” Dawn sighed. “And yes, yes, I know, I did that all on my own. Still, how was I supposed to know?”
“That'd you fall impossibly in love with them?” she asked and Dawn looked suddenly like she was about to crumble. “Oh, Dawnie...”
She let her sister cry into her neck, rubbing a soothing circle on her back and giving reassuring looks at the other park-goers looking over with concern. Dawn finally pulled back, accepting the tissue Buffy had specifically brought for something like this. “I just...what am I going to do, Buffy?” she asked, sniffling. “I'm in love with two men who are in love with each other.”
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise and she sucked in a quick breath. She doesn't know...Oh lordy. Mycroft, you better be back there,
she thought as she rested her cheek lightly against the top of her sister's head. She continued rubbing her sister's back as the entire thing poured out of the brunette's mouth. Buffy already knew it all, actually knew more about it than her sister apparently did, but a few things suddenly fell in place for the blonde. Thank God for Mycroft's plan.
“C'mon,” Buffy said once Dawn finished what was obviously just a release. “I don't have any answers for you that you don't already know so we're gonna go get pampered.”
Dawn opened her mouth to argue, must have seen something on Buffy's face, and snapped it shut with an audible click. They cleaned up their picnic, Buffy threw away the trash in the nearby cans as her sister found a nearby salon, and two sisters left the park. Crossing the street, Buffy looked over her shoulder and smiled when she caught sight of Mycroft nodding smugly at her. She rolled her eyes, even as she resisted the urge to giggle at John's pole-axed expression. Sherlock was just staring after them with an unreadable look.
She turned back to her sister, listening as the brunette outlined what she was going to do at the salon, an obvious attempt to distract herself from her issues. She nodded in all the right places and once they were both settled down, Dawn getting highlights and Buffy soaking her feet for a pedicure, the slayer sent a single text to everyone who'd been at the meeting. Operation Dawn's Delight is a go,
it said. If you don't have everything prepped when I get Dawn back to the flat, I will be extremely pissed off. This ridiculousness ends tonight.~~*~~
It took them almost three hours to get back to the flat. Buffy had insisted on spoiling Dawn rotten, knowing the key would be beyond miffed at her once she realized what the blonde had done. If the younger woman thought anything of it, she didn't say a word.
Stepping inside the flat, Buffy saw Willow duck out of sight by the back window. Dawn didn't notice and Buffy took a deep breath when she saw Vi's red hair flash into sight by the door to Dawn's bedroom. Dawn smiled up at her, mouth opening to say something, when Vi snuck in, a cloth of chloroform in hand to cover Dawn's mouth and nose with. “Sorry Dawnie,” she said sternly as her sister struggled fruitlessly. “But this nonsense ends now. You are talking with them.”
The last thing Buffy saw before her sister passed out was the look of betrayal there. She winced as she helped Vi catch the brunette. Oh yeah, she was in so much trouble when Dawn finally got out of this.~~*~~
The first thought in Dawn's mind when she groggily woke up was that she was going to kill her sister. Not kick her like she had the last time this happened, she was going to full on kill her.
The second was that Vi's ass was grass for not telling her she was back in London.
“...the hell?” a familiar voice groaned nearby and Dawn sat bolt upright, her sister's last words coming to mind as she realized she laid down on a bed, John and Sherlock on another nearby. It looked like a hotel room and there was a bathroom nearby but there was no actual door, just a curtain.
“Dawn?” John asked, blinking groggily at her. “What are you...where are we?”
“Last thing I remember is watching as you were drugged,” Sherlocks' voice said, proving they weren't the only two awake. “And a needle going into my own arm while my...brother...watched.”
The way he said brother told Dawn all she needed to know on his current opinion of Mycroft. He sat up, looking physically ruffled but generally unconcerned. He caught her gaze and she knew instinctively that he knew as well as she what this was all about. She flushed and turned away. Damn him. Damn him all to hell
“We were drugged?” John asked, finally coming from his haze. “By Mycroft?!”
“You're surprised?” Sherlock snorted. John opened his mouth to answer and then seemed to think better of it. The detective turned to her. “I imagine you're here as a matter of course?”
“Buffy and Vi, I think,” she answered, shifting on her bed. She wasn't hurt but chloroform always made her lethargic. “Chloroform—I hate when they do that.”
“You've been chloroformed before?” John asked, startled.
“By Xander, trying to get me out of Sunnydale the night before it imploded,” she answered. “I wasn't going to leave Buffy behind. It was a thing.”
John looked like he really wanted more answers but something caught his attention and he got up off the bed to grab a note dangling from the lightbulb. He read through it quickly, swallowing heavily before handing it off to Sherlock. The curly haired man read it through once and didn't look the least bit surprised by its contents. He handed it to Dawn. “Dawn, Sherlock, & John:
Now that we have you're attention, please note that NOTHING you do will get you out of this room. Between Willow and ourselves, you are thoroughly stuck. There is enough food in the fridge to last for a week and make no mistake, we will keep you there until you talk this thing out. We don't care what you decide, but at the very least you are not leaving until everything is out on the table.
And Dawn, we're very sorry for this but Xander thought this might be the only way to get you to admit what the hell was going on to the boys—they were at the park. They heard everything.
See you in a few days (we really hope this doesn't take so long but we're being realistic here).
All of our love,
Buffy & Mycroft
PS: Sherlock, Dawn, you might want to ask John about his recent 'experiments.' - MH”
Dawn felt all the blood leave her face as she read through it. This was so much worse than she'd originally thought. She steadfast refused to look up, aware her entire face was flaming red, as she folded the note and put it on the nearby bedside table.
“Experiments?” Sherlock asked and Dawn twitched, forcing herself to not look up. She didn't want to see the pity.
“I hate your brother, Sherlock,” John answered after a few moments. “And I don't care to think about how he figured out what I was doing.”
“Well?” Sherlock persisted impatiently. “What were you experimenting on?”
The silence stretched on and just as the silence was at its breaking point, John mumbled something too soft and jumbled for Dawn to figure out. “What?” Sherlock asked and Dawn finally looked up, almost involuntarily. John was as red as the jumper he was wearing, looking up at the ceiling. Sherlock, she was surprised to notice, had a small flush working its way up his neck as he stared at John.
“I said,” he finally answered, looking at Sherlock stubbornly. “I've been experimenting with my fantasies.”
“You're...fantasies.” Sherlock is adorable when he's confused,
Dawn thought to herself right before she herself realized what John must have meant. She snapped her attention back to her hands.
“Yes, Sherlock, are you happy?!” John snapped. “Apparently I'm not as straight nor monogamous as I thought I was!”
Dawn's breath stuttered at that, eyes widening as she looked up at John in shock. Sherlock seemed just as startled, mouth slightly open as he stared at John in bewilderment. That at least seemed to make John smile a bit, even if it was obviously forced. “Figures it would take something like that to shock you two.”
Instead of answering, Sherlock shot to his feet and stood in John's personal space. Despite knowing this was long in coming and she probably should give them privacy, Dawn couldn't stop watching as Sherlock lifted a hand to hover just above John's cheeks as he studied the suddenly still medic. Then he pressed his lips to John's and Dawn, after a few moments of them attempting to suck each others face off, decided that it was time to retreat to the bathroom (as that was only place here that would give them any sense of privacy). As she inched past them, John's hand snapped out and grabbed her, breaking from Sherlock with a bizarre popping sound. She looked anywhere but at him until she suddenly felt fingers, these with callouses, traced her cheek in the same way Sherlock had with John. She finally reluctantly locked eyes with him. He was smiling nervously.
“You did hear that bit about monogamy, right?” he asked, with a wry twist of his lips. She opened her mouth, though she had no idea what she was going to say, when he leaned forward to kiss her. His lips were chapped, her lip gloss had long since dissolved, and he still had hold of Sherlock so the angle wasn't great, but Dawn melted all the same. His free hand twisted into her hair as his tongue asked for permission. She granted it just as a strangled moan came from him. Shifting slightly, she could just make out Sherlock's curly head in the crook of John's neck.
“I am feeling very left out,” she heard Sherlock murmur right before he lifted his head to look at them both. “After all, I had but one small kiss from our sunrise.”
John let her go and she barely had time to realize what was about to happen before it did, Sherlock's lips covering her own with a sort of experimental hunger she rather thought suited him. The hand in her hair tightened as John groaned again.
“Bloody hell,” he cursed before she could feel him shift into the detective's neck. She could feel Sherlock smile against her lips and she couldn't help but return it, feeling a bit giddy.
Buffy just might be getting a pass on the whole murdered in her sleep thing, she thought as they shuffled towards a bed.
She was still going to kick her though.~~*~~
Buffy was watching Downton Abbey with Mycroft (a guilty pleasure of his he'd gotten her hooked on) when her phone lit up with a message from Vi. The redhead had been the one who'd taken over the hotel room next to the one they'd stashed the three idiots in and had promised to remain until certain the three had at least laid it out on the table. Operation Dawn's Delight is a success,
the beginning read. Leaving now though. Pretty sure no one wants me to be listening to them right now, including me. Ugh.
Despite the mild horror she felt at the idea of Dawn doing anything she herself had been doing since she was seventeen, Buffy grinned and turned the phone off before snuggling into Mycroft's side. His hand came up to run through her hair.
“Good news?” he asked.
“For once, one of our plans didn't blow up in our face,” she murmured. “So yeah, good news.”