#teaching assistant sherlock

[neo-my-geo]

Hey gang, it’s your old pal Neo here. If you know me, it’s probably from one of the several very stupid TF2 comics I’ve posted to Tumblr.

However! I am also an English major (unfortunately). One who has read millions of words worth of fanfiction in their life. I have been part of the Sherlock, BNHA, Disco Elysium, and, of course, TF2 fandoms; I’ve been around the block.

The further I’ve progressed into my English education, the more I’ve noticed which mistakes are the most common in fanfiction. Many of them are easily fixable; writers just need to be pointed in the right direction. 

“Neo! Does this mean you think people shouldn’t be allowed to post their works online without a background in formal English education?”

Of course not! I can explain why if you’d care to venture below the cut with me!

Yes, I will explain how to use commas.

It’s important to note that this is NOT a post about formal writing. You aren’t writing an essay. Please, for the love of god, do not write fiction like you’re writing an essay.

There are no stakes to writing fanfic. No one is going to get hurt if an author doesn’t know what a dangling participle is. One of my favourite things about fanfiction is that it’s one of the only art forms left that’s done exclusively for fun! You should write what you enjoy, and share what you make with like-minded people. 

What I want to do is provide assistance as best I can to writers who want to improve their fundamentals without having to take the same university courses I did. Nobody is going to be getting a formal education to write fanfiction unless they’re ridiculously dedicated, and I’m not expecting that of anyone. 

The point I need to stress is that knowing these grammar fundamentals can instantly improve the flow of your writing. Punctuation is a ridiculously important tool for writers, ESPECIALLY in fiction. Commas, semicolons, and full stops (including periods, exclamation points, and question marks) steer the pacing in the reader’s mind; did you notice how your brain stopped for a second after that semicolon? I can show you how to do that.

You may be wondering why I’m going through so much effort to teach all of this to strangers on the internet. The answer is that I enjoy sharing this knowledge with others and helping them grow. By seeing this, my goal is to help you become more proficient at self-editing. Showing this to people who actually want to learn will, hopefully, benefit the community as a whole, and I think that’s very worth it. 

Also, while this post is obviously themed around TF2, the points I’m making can be applied to any fiction. Grammar is for everyone, and the church of the semicolon always has room for more initiates. 

Also also, as an edit, I should clarify that this is meant to cover the more objective facets of self-editing, which is why I'm mostly covering punctuation. Maybe I'll do another post about using adjectives someday.

With that out of the way, let’s get going!

I’ve teamed up with several English teachers (real ones! One of which may or may not be my mom!) and an editor to gather a list of the most common problems we see in amateur fiction. This post is going to be split into three broad sections: apostrophes, commas/semicolons, and other common problems. 

The apostrophe

This section is short, but it holds weight. Other than commas, apostrophes are the most typoed grammatical tool in any fanfiction I’ve edited. This is because, much like the rest of English, the rules surrounding them can be annoying and inconsistent. 

Apostrophes have two main uses: possessives and conjunctions.

A possessive is a word that denotes the ownership of one thing over another. The vast majority of the time, this is done using an apostrophe and an S.

There is, however, one glaring exception to this rule, and it’s the bane of my existence. 

When denoting possession of an object over something else while using the pronoun ‘it,’ you do NOT add an apostrophe before the S.

A conjunction, on the other hand, is when a writer uses an apostrophe to combine two words. The following are examples of common conjunctions:

What’s (what is)

They’re (they are)

It’s (it is)

Conjunctions are not often used in formal writing. Thankfully, we aren’t dealing in formal writing. Go crazy.

Time for a lightning round of the most commonly mistaken for each other possessives and conjunctions!

Your is possessive. You’re is a conjunction of ‘you’ and ‘are.’ When you can’t decide which one to use, imagine replacing it with ‘you are’ and seeing if it makes sense. If it doesn’t, use your.

Their is possessive. There indicates a location. They’re is a conjunction of ‘they’ and ‘are.’ 

The comma and the semicolon

You knew it was coming. I knew it was coming. It’s time to talk about commas.

Commas and semicolons are far and away the biggest grammatical hole in the toolset of fanfiction writers everywhere. They’re often treated like the rules surrounding them are complicated and difficult to understand, but the exact opposite is true! 

The big issue I’ve heard time and time again is that the rules of commas are often explained through metaphor instead of example; this means that writers everywhere have slightly different ideas of how you’re supposed to use them. The fact of the matter is that, yes, there are correct and incorrect ways to use commas. Knowing when they’re appropriate and when they aren’t is easily the fastest way to bring your writing from looking amateurish to sounding professional and experienced. 

In order to know how to use a comma, you must first understand the difference between a dependent and an independent clause. 

An independent clause is a section of writing that functions perfectly well as its own sentence. It MUST have both a subject and an action/verb.

A sentence without an independent clause is known as a fragment, and they’re the bane of English teachers with highlighters everywhere. 

A dependent clause is a section of writing that does not have both a subject and an action; it does not function as its own sentence.

Now, let’s say you want to combine the two. When joining a dependent clause to an independent clause, the order in which they are placed is crucial to whether you use a comma or not. 

When joining a dependent to an independent with the independent clause first, you do not need to use a comma.

When joining a dependent to an independent with the dependent clause first, you MUST use a comma. 

Keep in mind that, if one strives for total grammatical perfection, all narrative sentences MUST have an independent clause. This, however, does not apply to dialogue. Human beings do not think about whether what they’re saying is a dependent clause, and neither would the vast majority of fictional characters. Don’t be afraid to break the rules of grammar as long as it’s contained within quotation marks. 

Alright, that’s the easy part. Time to learn about joining two independent clauses. It’s semicolon time, baby!

If you join two independent clauses without properly using a comma or a semicolon, it is a run-on sentence. You do not want these in your writing. They’re awkward to read and mess up the flow.

When joining two independent clauses, you can use EITHER a comma or a semicolon. You just need to follow these rules:

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a comma, you MUST use a joining word (and, but, so, etc.) AFTER the comma. 

If you’re joining two independent clauses with a semicolon, you do NOT need to use a joining word.

Did you know that a sentence with a comma counts as its own independent clause? This means that you can make a sentence that includes a mix of both without it being a run-on! Just make sure that, no matter what, the semicolon is between two independent clauses. 

Still, try not to write more than two clauses in a sentence too often. Sentences with a lot of punctuation are very attention-grabbing, but shouldn’t be overused. Full stops aren’t your enemy and variety is the spice of life. 

It’s also important to remember that you should avoid using more than one comma in a clause (with the exception of the rule below). That part loops back to the 'avoiding run-ons' bit.

It’s really that easy! 

Commas are also used in informal writing to inject a separate thought or descriptor mid-sentence without breaking the flow by adding a period. This is often used when describing the perspective of a character experiencing something in a story, but not (usually) when using omniscient perspectives. 

The final issue I frequently see with commas in fanfiction is in regards to dialogue. Sometimes you end it with them, and sometimes you don’t. What gives? 

Well, my friend, the answer is, thankfully, much simpler than the previous section.

When following dialogue with a dialogue tag, use a comma instead of a full stop. If you’re continuing the previous sentence after the tag, use a comma after it as well. 

Note that a dialogue tag is a short phrase that identifies the speaker. It isn’t a complete sentence on its own.

When following dialogue with an action that does not serve as a dialogue tag, use a full stop instead of a comma. 

Other common problems

This section is dedicated to putting specific grammatical errors into words, along with how to solve them. 

Not sticking to the chosen point of view

Always choose your point of view before you start. Is it in the first, second, or third person? Is it omniscient or limited? Does the point of view switch during the story?

First person perspective is told as if the POV character is directly describing their experience to the reader. The character uses I and we to describe their own actions.

Second person perspective is told as if the reader is a character in the story and their actions are being described to them. This is the rarest, and the most difficult to write.

Third person perspective is the most common and the simplest to write. The events of the story are a separate entity from the reader altogether and the narrator uses they/he/she/it pronouns for characters. 

Omniscient perspective means the narrator of the story knows all, including the thoughts and feelings of each character. 

Limited perspective means the narrator of the story only knows what the POV character knows. 

Past and present tense

When you decide between writing a story in past or present tense, it is crucial that you do not switch between them unless it is narratively intentional. Reading a past tense story that mistakenly switches to the present tense is like being pulled out of the room someone is telling a story in and suddenly taking part in it yourself. It’s disorienting and gives the reader unwanted pause.

Overly-long paragraphs

A common adage spread by English teachers is that most paragraphs should be at least eight sentences long. This is great advice for beginner essays. You’re writing fiction. 

If you have a new thought, start a new paragraph! A concise and well-read single-sentence paragraph is infinitely better than one that drags a thought for too long. Aim to have a blend of paragraph lengths when you write, alternating between the descriptive and the punctual. 

Dangling participles

A dangling participle is when a word is used to describe a noun that isn’t actually present in the sentence. Much like how a sentence without an action isn’t grammatically correct, neither is a sentence without a subject. 

Malapropisms

A malapropism is when an author mistakenly uses one word or phrase instead of another similar-sounding one. I’m not about to list every single malapropism ever made, but these are the ones I notice most often:

To comprehend is to understand something, to apprehend is to arrest someone, and to be apprehensive is to be anxious or fearful of something bad happening.

Could care less means you do care. Couldn’t care less means you don’t.

A lot means a large amount of something. Alot isn’t a word and you shouldn’t use it.

The only real solution to using malapropisms is to make sure you fully understand any words you use in your writing. Never guess, and make sure you always google it. Having beta readers also helps.

If you made it this far, congratulations! You now know the most common errors in amateur fiction and how to solve them! Thank you for listening to me complain for two thousand words. 

The most important thing to remember is that it’s okay to make mistakes. First drafts are always gonna be a little bad. The real key to success is knowing what your end goal is, and how you plan on achieving it. Here’s hoping this was a helpful tool for that!

Shoutout to @salmonandsoup for helping me think of the list of issues to address! You're a real one. Also shoutout to my mom, who doesn't have Tumblr. Also the third person. You know who you are.

[hey-its-roseaurum]

Guilty until Proven Innocent-Part I

A/N: Hey everyone. Thank you for taking the time to look at this story. This is for a collaboration with @lainiespicewrites. She is an excellent writer and I figured it was my turn to stretch my writing muscles and put something out into the world. This is my first Henry Cavill fic, so please don't be too harsh. Anyways, enjoy!

Synopsis: After recent murders in town, You (Olivia) decide to train with Edith in the art of self-defense. In the middle of training, you got a mysterious knock on the door. Sherlock walks in, looking for assistance with his latest case. He offers you to partake in a partnership to help him in his latest case? Do you take it?

Warnings: mentions of death

“You’re progressing nicely Olivia.”  Edith smiled from above me, her elbow pinning me to the floor mat.  There wasn’t a hint of sweat along her forehead.  She had taken me down in less than a minute. The worst part was I thought I was going to land a hit on her this time.

”I’m beginning to think that you’re just saying that to soothe my pride”. I rasped out.  She had eased her hold on me and stood up, extending a hand.

”Nonsense.  Look how far you’ve come since you first stepped in these doors.  Pretty soon you’ll be able to hold your ground with me.”  She exclaimed as I grabbed her hand and hoisted myself up.  My back had long since started throbbing.

For the past few weeks, I have been meeting Edith at her office to train and learn self-defense.  Ever since the first girl went missing and was later found dead in the street I hadn’t been able to sleep soundly.  There were constant, nagging thoughts that made me question if I was going to be the next victim.  It had only gotten worse when they found the next girl a week later in the middle of an alleyway that I frequently visited.  Her throat had been cut. 

In London, it was ill-advised for a woman, especially of noble birth, to consider something as trivial as self-defense.  Women are supposed to be soft, elegant, and passive. All of the trouble and responsibility in making decisions was for the men. 

 Being passive and soft didn’t save those girls from their cruel end.

And I wasn’t going to let myself become like them.  I refuse to be the next girl that falls victim to this.  So I went to my dear friend Enola at her detective agency and inquired about a solution to my predicament.  She sent me over to Edith and had me start training the next day.  I’ve been training every day since then.

I’m still not really good at it.

”Did you say the same thing when you were teaching Enola?”  I inquired as I dusted myself off.  Edith only shook her head.

”Not exactly.  Her response was more witty, thanks to her mother.”  Eudoria Holmes, the mother, the fire starter as people liked to call her.  I’ve seen her wanted poster splayed all across London.  But I didn’t see her as a criminal.  I saw her as the woman who saved my life six months ago.

That morning had been cold and bitter.  I remember feeling my fingers grow numb while I huddled against a mailbox.  Its red paint had chipped away at its base, leaving rust behind.

Which was ironic and poetic now that I think back on it.  And let me explain why.

It all started when my father had recently passed from a sickness that left my mother and me penniless.  With no man in the house and no money to our name, we were cast out of society.  My mother and I were thrown out and the estate that I called my home.   It was sold to another noble family in the south.

We lived off the street after that.  My mother, using what knowledge she had of needlework, had acquired a job as an assisted seamstress.  I was left to salvage whatever pity people gave me and half-rotten food from dumpsters.

Eventually, we were able to afford a small cottage on the outskirts of town.  It was small, run-down, and often had a damp smell to it.  Mother didn’t like to be there for a long period.  She claimed it was because she was so busy with her duties to the seamstress that she didn’t have time to spend there.  I think it was because she missed her life at the estate and living in this small broken cottage was too much for her to bear.

That morning six months ago I decided to go into town to fill my water bucket and get bread before it got too crowded.  When I got there, I sat down by the mailbox to wait for the bakery to open.  I was particularly annoyed when I saw a lot of people around this early in the morning.

I was watching a man get onto a carriage when something shifted from the corner of my eye.  It had been a man, or what I thought was a man walking towards me with a package in their hand.  When we made eye contact I didn’t think anything of it.  I just watched them and noted how stiff they walked. They placed the package in the slot of the mailbox.  Before I knew it, I was grabbed by the elbow, hoisted upright, and pulled away from the mailbox.  

That mailbox exploded, releasing a whirlwind of fliers into the air.

The two of us had run from the police.  I was forced to since they refused to let go of my hand.  We ran until this stranger knew that they weren't being followed.  

When things settled down, the man revealed that they were a woman in disguise.  She introduced herself as Eudoria Holmes and then proceeded to lecture me about being near explosives as if she were my own mother.  All I had wanted to do was bite back, to lecture her on how she shouldn’t be putting explosives where there were people.

Instead, I broke down, not from her lecturing but because of something I couldn’t quite place. All I knew was that I was waiting for a soggy piece of bread and nearly got blown up.

In the end, I told her everything.  I told her my past, my current situation, and why I was even in town in the first place.  One thing kind of led to another.  The next thing I knew I was sitting in Eudoria’s house with a cup of tea in my hand.

I stayed in that damp cottage less and less as time passed and more at Eudoria’s warm, often chaotic home.  That’s where I became friends with Enola, had briefly met her two brothers Sherlock and Mycroft, and felt somewhat happy.  

I don’t know why she pulled me away from that mailbox.  The one time I asked her she said she saw something in me, some sort of fire in my eye.  She didn’t want it to go out along with the mailbox.

I didn’t believe her, but I couldn’t tell that to her.

“So what you’re trying to say is that I still have a long way to go,” I asked as my brain jumped back to the present.  I stepped away from the mat and made my way into her office.

”What I’m saying is you’re doing better than you think you are.  You just began learning.  Give yourself a little credit.”  Following me, she made her way to the table by the window.  A stack of teacups were messily stacked up to one side.  She grabbed two, placed them on saucers, and poured liquid into both.  

“I know.  I’m just…worried.  It’s been a week since the last victim was found and the police still haven’t found the suspect.”  I let out a sigh and sipped some of my tea.  I needed a moment to choose my words carefully.  “I just want to be…prepared.”

A heavy pause filled the air before either of us spoke.  

”Olivia…there’s more to that, isn’t there?” Edith’s words were soft and gentle.

“I mean I-“. My response was sharply cut short.

A knock pulled our attention away from our conversation and to the door.  A tall man entered from the training room and to Edith’s office.  I couldn’t place if he looked tall because of his size, or because of the giant top hat sitting snugly on top of his head.  Dark wavy strands of hair peaked through from under his hat. 

”Have you any sense what time it is?”  Edith interrogated, crossing her arms.  The man took off his hat, revealing thick brown locks.  His sculpted jawline and nose complimented the hair.  Blue, mesmerizing eyes glanced around, investigating.

But the feature that I recognized right away from him was his shoulders.  I knew those shoulders.

”Hello, Edith” His attention briefly shot to me “Olivia”  I curtly nodded, averting my eyes.

”Good evening Mr. Holmes.”  I responded softly.  “With what do we owe the pleasure of your company?” Holmes.  Sherlock Holmes.  One of Enola’s older brothers. One of the greatest detectives I’ve ever seen.

”There’s no need for formalities Olivia.”  I felt something warm begin to grow on my cheeks at his response.  He’s only being polite Olivia.  We are only acquaintances because of Enola and Eudoria.  He doesn’t like you like that.

Or does he?  

I’m not sure.

Sherlock Holmes is a difficult man to understand.

“What are you here for Sherlock?”  Edith asked again, harsher this time.  Her tone quickly pulled me back to the present and away from my thoughts.  

Sherlock cleared his throat, his blue eyes revealing some sort of inner turmoil within himself.  It was an unusual amount of emotion that I was not used to seeing.  I expected it with Mycroft, he practically wore his emotions on his face at all times.  Sherlock never did.  He’s always been composed, and proper.  Before me now he still was, but a layer of some sort had been chipped away.

”I….need your help.”  He struggled to say the words like it was almost painful to him.  A moment of silence clung in the air.  

”Is it about Enola?   Did she get herself into trouble?”  There was a hint of concern in Edith’s voice when she begged the questions.  The only response he gave was a small shake of his head. I watched as realization flashed on her face. 

”There’s something about this case-“. 

”That deduction cannot solve?”  Edith finished his thought.  He slightly nodded, setting his hat down on her desk.  That was my cue. I softly placed my teacup down and made my way to the table by the window.  I began making some tea for Sherlock while listening to the conversation.

”I may need your…skills to get information from a place I cannot enter.”

“What kind of place?”  He listed off a name that I didn’t recognize.  Edith’s face slightly reddened.

”A showgirl theatre?! You cannot ask me such a thing Sherlock, no matter how close we are.”  My eyebrows raised as I grabbed a cup and saucer and poured some tea into the cup.

“I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t have another option.  A woman’s life is at stake.” His tone was calm, but there was something else there.

”But going into this with the possibility of getting murdered is not something I’m comfortable with.  Woman’s freedom and rights is one thing, going after a serial killer is a whole other matter entirely”

”Edith, I-“. I cut them off.

”I’ll do it.  I’ll go instead of you.”  In their arguing, I had made my way back to the two of them, Sherlock's tea in hand.  I had left mine behind.

”Olivia, do you know what kind of place that is, what situations you can get into.  You’re nowhere near ready to hold your ground”. What she said was like a punch to the gut.  

I knew I wasn’t ready, we had that same conversation not thirty minutes ago.  But I knew that if Edith went and something bad had happened to her Enola and Eudoria would be devastated.  I was different.  If I went and something happened to me, Edith would still be here training more girls like me.

”Who else is going to do it?  Enola?  She’s not expendable. I am.  And Edith, what about the other girls you train?” I took a breath, the stubbornness in me growing. “Besides, I know these streets better than anyone.  I’ve lived in them.  I know where to go in case I’m being followed.   And because of the way I look,”. I paused briefly looking down at myself, at my curvy, plump figure.  “No one would suspect me.  They would just see me as a showgirl trying to make ends meet.  I can blend in, go undercover, and get the information that he needs in order to catch this murderer.”

A heavy pause hung between the three of us.

I let what I said sink into the two of them.  I know that Edith is fighting with herself on whether she can let me go.  She believes that I am her responsibility, and I kind of was while Eudoria was undercover.  But since starting to learn to defend myself I told myself that I couldn’t sit and wait.  Sitting and worrying about who the next victim is going to drive me crazy.  If I can help and make a difference, then maybe the suspect will be caught before there’s more tragedy.  

”I promise I won’t let anything bad happen to her.”  Sherlock’s voice broke the silence and my inner thoughts.  “You have my word.”  His eyes met mine at his.  I felt something else there besides the promise.   Edith sighed,  rubbing her temples with both her index fingers.

“Okay, Sherlock.  Just…make sure she comes back in one piece.”   Edith finally concurred.  “You’re going to have to speak to your mother if you don’t.”

A smile tugged at my lips at the agreement.  I finally raised the cup of tea, offering it to him.    

”When do we start?”

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A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you want to read @lainiespicewrites story about Paul Atreides from the Dune Sage, here is her link: https://www.tumblr.com/lainiespicewrites/747032352877903872/the-atreides-era?source=share

[braininatankwithalaptop]

An interesting background detail implied but not exactly explicitly stated is that there is a tradition of open hand martial arts in Altazia. The way that Taiven has a sparring dummy even though she's a mage with a weapon, the poses that she has in the art, it points to some type of unarmed technique. "Well no shit sherlock, why bring it up?" I wanted to establish this because in most dialogue, her comments of knowing how to fight and physical fitness could be interpreted as her talking about using weapons in combat. And I wanted to establish that because I was trying to figure something out. Why is there an unarmed tradition in a world of mages? Martial arts are not born in a vacuum. Willingly deciding to train how to fight without a weapon instead of with one is usually done with other factors involved. Sure, most cultures in our world developed some type of unarmed combat, but most of the time it devolves into some type of sport overtime (like boxing and wrestling now) as weapons prove more and more effective (from what I understand). What usually kept unarmed martial arts alive for serious self defense is either a) a population that can't afford weapons or b) an oppressive government that bans weapons to disempower resistance (this is based on my limited understanding, I know there are gaps in it). I know that Okinawan Karate became as strong of a tradition as it did because Japan banned Okinawans from owning weapons and they had to find a way to defend themselves without them (some people argued this was with the goal of fighting in a secret resistance with guerrilla tactics but that's been heavily disputed). So, in the MoL world, why would weapons be banned? How useful would unarmed combat be in a world where organizations that can ban weapons can also have mages? Because unlike having a weapon, magic can be taught to any one, and probably be much more effective. I can personally only think of three reasons why. 1) Mages were much less common than they seem to be in modern day Altazia. Fighting other people with weapons when you didn't have any was still viable and learning magic from anyone at all (including non-giant power structures like witches and tribes) wasn't viable for most. 2) Weapons were important to mages, as it was hinted in the gods' boons to mortals magical artifacts and weapons were used to push back against the frontier. This suggests a significant portion of magic use was done through objects and weapons, and the banning of it meant that people had to learn how to cast without those objects and fight without them at the same time. (Of course overtime spellcasting without weapons/objects were adopted by everyone as all superior spellcasting does, and as the spellcasting tradition was separated from the martial art, all that was left was the physical techniques). 3) Martial arts aren't a method of self defense at all and are only regarded as a sport. Only useful for exercise, and most importantly, cements Taiven's character as a jock official as she is the coach's assistant to teach the sport and has dummies to practice at home.

[wizardfrog69]

Hello! Can I request Moriarty The Patriot characters including Mycroft as fathers? Like would they be protective, caring, would they spoil them a lot yk just general things basically🤭

Omg that's such I cute idea, I'm always too lazy to include mycroft but I'll include him this time.

'•.¸♡mtp men as fathers♡¸.•'

Mtp x gn!reader (if I make reference to the reader but idk)

Fluff :)

Feat. William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, John, Mycroft.

Enjoy!

William James Moriarty:

He will be such an excellent father, but won't pay as much attention to the child as he would like.

He is a maths professor so he'll teach his children about maths obviously, but he is occupied by his work at time and cannot spend as much time as he would like.

He will also teach them on like equality and decent human respect and how everyone should be treated equally because at the end of the day we are all homosapiens and shouldn't judge each other due to nasty stereo types and rumours.

Basically his child(ren) are well educated but still go to school cuz like they need to.

Also Louis teaches them basic kitchen skills.

Over all 9/10 father, the whole underground situation isn't the best regarding children yk

Louis James Moriarty:

He is protective as hell, like the house is baby proofed till the child is six or something.

But he will let the child explore its surroundings, especially in nature.

He's they type of guy to baby proof the plastic containers but let them walk to the very edge of a cliff yk.

He wouldn't actually let that happen but you get what I'm trying to say hopefully.

He child grows up around the smell of tea and obviously that's the only thing they drink.

Also he teaches them basic and simple culinary skills!

Louis also would educate his child(ren) about decent human respect and the child's uncle, William will teach them math in his spare time.

9/10 again the very deadly line of work thing isn't the best regarding children yk.

Albert James Moriarty:

He spoils them, need I say more?

Also he encourages them to play with other kids from lower classes.

He would be the most serious about tho and his drinking habits need to be reduced.

The child can't have such influences on its little mind.

Its uncles teach him a lot of things but Albert also contributes.

8/10 after, this time his legal and illegal line of work also his drinking habits, we don't want the child to grow up to be drinking alcohol 24/7.

Sherlock Holmes:

He is the fun dad, like all the kids love him.

But he can be low key scary when serious/angry but other than that he's chill yk.

John is child's favourite uncle, and it thinks Mycroft is low key scary.

Also Ms Hudson gives little Holmes candy cuz she can never resist the little kid.

It's the only reason why Sherlock isn't on the streets.

Also he spoils the kid.

7/10 father, he's like broke, smokes way too much, also his line of work isn't the safest (he got arrested and almost killed someone) but he will try and be careful.

John H. Watson:

He's an amazing father, he's really caring and soft.

He might spoil the child on a rare occasion but nothing too much.

Also if he thinks he'll endanger himself being sherlock's partner or like assistant idk but whatever he is to sherlock during working hours, he'll quit.

He doesn't trust sherlock with his child, like at all, he thinks sherlock will drop it or something.

10/10 father, he makes the child his first priority and shouldn't get shot death regarding his line of work.

Sebastian Moran:

I cannot see him as a father, like at all.

Mycroft Holmes:

He a stubborn father, but he has a soft spot for his child, it's honestly so sweet.

Like he would low key spoil the child but not too much and he'll be a very caring father.

Although when he gets mad or overly irritated the child is told to stop whatever they are doing in a harsher tone and either get told to go to their room or something similar depending on what they are doing.

But he apologise to the child and tells them what they did wrong.

His child will definitely grow up to have manners.

9/10 father, he gets irritated a bit too much.

༺♡༻ 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 𖡼.��𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 ⋆ 𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 ༺♡༻

Sorry but bond isn't in here as well :(

I hope the request is to your liking tho!

Take care of yourself as much as you can and have a good day/night!

-love, tired Az :) <3

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

Part 17

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Part 16 🟣 Part 18

A reverse harem vampire AU ft. Mikey, Marshall, August and Sherlock

Series summary: Somehow, you've managed to live with your boyfriend and his roommates for months before finding out they're vampires, but the real shock first comes when they find out you have a special quality. A quality the guys would love to make use of...

Warnings: Ongoing vampire shenanigans, mentions of blood, biting, angst. Girl-gossip shenanigans.

Word count: 2.7k

A/N: I'm very sorry, @deandoesthingstome, but this chapter is exactly what you hate most 😂😂 That said... We need some girl-gossip up in this bitch. Enjoy!

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @summersong69 @mis-lil-red @ellethespaceunicorn @sillyrabbit81 @livisss @itsrubberbisquit @ktficworld

“Hey, is that Professor Holmes?”

You followed Katie’s gaze to the side only to find that she was right: Sherlock was indeed in the cafeteria of your building, and he was walking towards the table where you and your friends were sitting. “It is,” you answered plainly.

“God, it’s a shame he’s no longer teaching here… I’d almost switch schools to take one of his classes, and that’s just because of that face.” Rose sighed.

Her remark made you chuckle. “You know he’s a vampire, right?” you noted amusedly. “He can hear you.”

Closer inspection of Sherlock’s face showed no sign that he had indeed heard what Rose had said, but there simply was no other option.

“Who cares, I bet the man knows he’s a whole damn meal,” Jenelle helpfully added.

“Mmm, fine dining,” Rose chuckled. “Aren’t you supposed to be a lesbian, J?”

“I have eyes,” Jenelle deadpanned.

“You guys,” you hissed angrily. The whole conversation was making you incredibly uncomfortable. You lived with Sherlock, for crying out loud. You were… involved with him.

His soft chuckle sounded behind you as a strong arm reached around you to put something on the table — a book. “Mike said you needed this,” he said kindly, “and I had an appointment on campus, anyway.” The fact that he skipped out on your usual ‘darling’ left you a little deflated. Of course, you’d never taken the time to discuss if you would take your slightly unorthodox relationship public…

“Oh, really?” you answered, trying hard to keep your nervousness out of your voice. “What kind of appointment?”

“I’m assisting in another plagiarism case,” he answered. “The school was able to replace me as a professor, but my other talents are significantly harder to come by.” His hand landed on your shoulder for hardly more than a second, and then it was gone again. “I will see you tonight, right? August is making pasta.”

“Yeah,” you said softly.

When Sherlock turned around to walk away, it stung. You wanted to hug him, instead of hiding your relationship — although you hadn’t actually ever defined what that relationship was, exactly. One look around the table at your friends told you they already knew there was something going on.

“Seriously?” Katie snapped when Sherlock had disappeared from the cafeteria. “You are cheating on Mike?”

Shit. Of course, you had considered that explaining your situation would be tough, but you hadn’t counted on Katie going full Queen of Judgement.

“I’m not…”

“Save it, bitch,” she hissed. “How could you? Mike is so cute and…”

“Katie, shut up,” you snapped. “I’m not cheating. Mike knows, he’s… he’s okay with it. And it’s complicated.”

“Complicated how, girl?” Jenelle asked, sounding a lot more calm than Katie.

“Alright,” you sighed, “can this stay between us?” The three nodded. We’re you really doing this? Jenelle worked at the Bank, she’d have no problems with this, but Katie… She grew up about as sheltered as you had, and your best guess was that her family wasn’t exactly more forgiving on the vampire stuff.

“I’m a natural,” you blurted out before you could talk yourself out of coming clean to your friends.

“Luxury vampire food, you mean?” Rose said, her eyes wide. “Girl, you can make a killing off that!”

“How would you know?” Katie asked, disdain very clear in her voice.

“Oh, don’t be a hick about it. My sister is one. She’s making fucking bank at some club downtown. She could probably het you an inter— oh my God!”

“What?” Jenelle asked. You didn’t respond.

“You’ve been paying for lunch, not as worried about your student loans… You are making money!” It was impossible to interject, because Rose and Jenelle started to chatter excitedly while the look of disbelief on Katie’s face only grew stronger.

And then she snapped.

“You’re some filthy fucking blood whore?” Right, there it was. She didn’t even wait for an answer — not that anything you could have told her would have calmed her down, because you were, by any definition of the word, a blood whore. Somehow, it stung a lot more now that Katie said it than it had when August had mentioned it.

“Katie, seriously?” Jenelle scoffed. “You know I feed vamps for a living, too, right?”

As she said it, Katie turned pale. “I didn’t,” she muttered quietly, and she began to gather her stuff. “I have to go.”

When she rushed out of the cafeteria, Rose and Jenelle looked at each other, and then at you.

“I guess her family values don’t quite line up with city life,” Rose said.

“With normal life, you mean?” Jenelle sneered, clearly not upset by what had just happened.

“Hey,” you replied, “take it easy, she’s…”

“A bitch, girl.” Rose rolled her eyes. “I know she’s a lot like you, and I know you bonded over leaving your small-town family behind and everything, but even you have to admit that you did a way better job adjusting than she ever did. She honest to God didn’t even try.”

You knew she was right, but it still felt wrong to talk about someone you’d considered one of your closest friends like this. Especially when she was being accused of being what you were, too: A small-town girl.

Then again, they weren’t wrong in saying you’d come a long way since then. In fact, you were absolutely certain that your parents would die of shock when they found out about your arrangement with your roommates. Actually, you were pretty sure they’d already keel over if they only heard you were living with four guys, regardless of whether or not they were vampires.

They also weren’t wrong in saying that Katie hadn’t exactly made the steps you had. Quite the contrary, if you had to admit it.

You sighed.

“Girl, tell us more,” Jenelle said, putting her hand on your arm and squeezing you lightly. “I take it there’s an arrangement of sorts with these hottie-hot-hot roommates of yours?”

“Up to and including Professor McDreamy?” Rose sighed, the look in her eyes revealing she’d trade places with you in a heartbeat.

You nodded. “Yep. I never thought it would be this intimate, though…”

“We’re ditching this lecture, aren’t we?” Rose asked, looking at Jenelle, who nodded.

“Girl we’re out of here. Come on.”

“Hold on, so you slept with Pornstache? I mean… Augustus, was it?”

“August,” you corrected Jenelle, “and… I mean it’s only happened once so far.”

“And the cop?” Rose butted in.

“Not yet…” Why were you having this conversation again?

“And the pretty professor?” Jenelle asked. You’d been wondering about that, actually. Because the truth, which you also told your friends, was, of course, that you and Sherlock hadn’t had sex, even though you spent the occasional night in his bed.

“Maybe he’s waiting for you to bring it up? He seems like that kind of guy,” Jenelle said when you had finished the story of your first kiss — leaving out the part about Mike running off for now — and the nights you had spent together.

“J, we don’t know him,” Rose laughed.

“No, she’s right. He’s that kind of guy. So sweet, so considerate… Very insistent I take my supplements.” The quizzical looks on your friends’ saves made you laugh. “He can tell when I need vitamins. As in… he can taste it. So he makes sure I take what I need… it’s…”

“God, I want someone to take care of me like that…” Rose sighed. Jenelle agreed with her.

You had to admit; it was nice to have someone look after you. And you had four someones, even.

“But like, Mike was okay with all that?” Jenelle asked, and you knew your hopes of leaving out the part about him running off were shattered.

The story left Jenelle and Rose speechless for a moment, and then Rose laughed. “Christ, he's adorable,” she snickered, “I feel so bad for him. No, really…”

“Oh, the impact that remark would make if you weren't cackling like a crazy witch,” Jenelle said.

“I'm sorry, it's just… On brand for him, somehow? Does that make sense?” It did. It really did.

“August would say that it's because Mike is just a baby,” you blurted out before you were able to really think it through.

“Yeah, wait, how old are these guys?” Of course Jenelle asked the question you'd been dreading.

“Eh… Mike was born in the sixties, if I recall correctly. August and Marshall are four hundred years old, give or take, and Sherlock just under nine hundred years.” Was it just you or was it hot in here all of a sudden?

“Hm…” Yeah. Hmm. That sounded about right — you hadn't really worked out how to deal with that information yet, either.

“How old were they when they were turned?” Rose asked, making you instantly worried about something you had somehow failed to consider at all.

“God… I don't even know,” you muttered.

“You never asked?” Jenelle couldn't wrap her head around that. “How could you not ask?”

“It didn't really matter…”

“It doesn't matter,” Rose said matter-of-factly, “but I still want to know.” Ah. Rose's curiosity was the bane of your existence from time to time — and the reason for some of the better conversations you'd had with her.

“Mike was in his early twenties, I believe. And I'm guessing Sherlock and August are in their late thirties, early forties. Marshall… Mid-thirties, I think? I honestly don't know!” And you cursed yourself for it.

“It doesn't really matter. Their legal documents have their original birthdates on them, anyway,” Jenelle pointed out. “I used to work the desk at the Bank before I decided to give feeding a shot.”

“I know Sherlock doesn't have one. His driver’s license says ‘ADB’,” you remembered. Rose gave you a questioning look.

“Approximate date of birth,” Jenelle explained, although that didn't seem to make it much clearer.

“Legislation changed so many times during his life, and he's had to hide and lie about his age and pretend to be human and whatnot… He genuinely doesn't remember when he was born, exactly,” you clarified.

“Years and days are often just an estimate, even if you only go back about a century,” Jenelle added.

“It sounds horrible to not know when you were born,” Rose said quietly, a worried look on her face.

“I know the guys don't mind much… They're mostly glad they can feed legally,” you muttered.

“They must be really happy they ran into you,” Jenelle said with a wink. “I hear these arrangements are kinda rare, like… people pay top dollar to be a part of one.”

There was a question somewhere in that statement, and it was easy enough to tell what it was, exactly; what's the deal?

“Yeah…” You hesitated. You'd barely come to terms with the agreement yourself. Sharing it was something else entirely.

“You know you can trust us, right?” Rose said. She was at least as curious as Jenelle.

“Yeah, it's just… It's a lot, okay? Basically I don't pay rent and utilities, and I get… let's call it an allowance. Please don't make me tell you how much that is. It's basically a very generous grocery budget, that's all I'm gonna say about that.”

Your cheeks were burning and you couldn't keep your hands from trembling as you waited for your friends' reactions to what you'd just told them.

They were silent for a beat, and then Rose squealed. “Girl, oh my God, that's amazing! I'm so happy for you!”

She meant it — as did Jenelle, who furiously nodded in agreement of what Rose had just said.

“Truth be told,” you said. Now that you were fessing up anyway, there was something you had to get off your chest. “I'd do it for free.”

“No way,” Jenelle said, “I've had shifts where the drip — like, the painkiller chemicals — didn't take well, and I swear I wanted to die after the third or so client.”

“But you're not a natural,” Rose replied. “My sister told me it feels good.”

“Oh, it does,” you blurted out, “it really does. They could feed on me all day and I'd be so perfectly happy! Mike even…” No. That was… It wasn't that you'd never shared any intimate details about your sex life with Rose and J, but this…

“Mike even what?” The girls said in unison, and you wished you could disappear.

“God, alright, eh… He likes to drag it out.” You shrugged. As far as you were concerned, that was plenty of information for them. They disagreed.

“Bitch, I sw-"

“Alright, alright,” you shushed Rose, who seemed to calm down — but looks can be deceiving, especially in very tiny, copper-curled physics students. As far as you'd experienced, at least.

“Mike one hundred percent feeds during sex,” Jenelle said indifferently. You hated how spot-on she was.

“Yup,” you said. “And remember how fond he is of, eh…”

“Boobies,” Jenelle sighed — it was just about the only trait she and Mike had in common. “Wait…” She snapped her head in your direction, her eyes wide. “You mean he… Really?”

Why did this even surprise her?

“Oh, that adorable little freak,” Rose chuckled.

“Never tell him — or anyone else — that I told you this!” you said, mild panic clear in your voice. “Swear on your life!”

“Jeez, chill!” Jenelle snorted. “Like we'd ever do that? Ain't none of my business that he wants to suck on your tits.”

“What does that feel like?” Rose asked. How would you even begin to explain that?

Despite being unsure you'd be able to do it justice, you decided to give it a shot, anyway. You’d made it too far into this conversation to back down now. Besides, it was nice to finally be able to talk about this with your closest friends. Minus Katie — which was probably for the best.

“The feeding itself already feels like a warm bath… I mean, the bite is more sensitive, but other than that, it's pretty much the same. It's his reaction that makes it so good. A few nights ago he got so snuggly — he'd had a rough day and he was very hyper and all over the place, but as soon as he was curled up next to me, he calmed down.” You could tell from the look on her face that Jenelle had a hard time picturing Mike in any kind of way that could be described as calm. “Really! And he has this gift…”

“I can't believe we never asked you about that!” Rose interrupted. “Do they all have one?”

“They do. I'll get to that, okay?” you promised before continuing: “Anyway, Mike has this gift. He senses desires.” Rose's eyes went wide for just a moment, but you happened to catch it. “What?”

“Okay so, hypothetically, if at some point I thought about…” It didn't take a genius to figure out where this was going.

“Yeah. There’s a very good chance he caught that. Marshall is worse, though. He straight-up reads minds.”

Rose stared at you wide-eyed. “Well, it’s good to know I can never show my face at your place again.”

“Eh, you're fine,” you said. “A-ny-way, they warned me that after a while, there was a chance they'd kind of ‘share’ those gifts with me while they were feeding, meaning I get to feel what Mike desires, and… It went beyond wanting. He needed me. It was…” A single tear rolled down your cheek, taking you by surprise. “I love him so much.”

Jenelle wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you close. “Girl, quit playin'. You love all of them, it's so obvious, seriously.”

“I really do,” you sighed. “This whole thing feels like home. It feels like forever.”

“But babe, you're not going to be around forever,” Rose said carefully. The thought had crossed your mind before, and every time it did, it made you feel queasy.

“You know,” you whispered, “I’m not so sure about that.”

[rey-jake-therapist]

Sherlock fic: The One That Got Away: chapter 3

Chapter 3: "Splitting Hairs" of my Sherlock fic The One That Got Away is up!

Link AO3 ⬇️

Summary:

While Sherlock's investigation on the suicide case progresses and he acquires the conviction that it may have been assisted, John and Molly spend a lovely afternoon together at the park with Rosie. Too bad they're interrupted by a call from Greg Lestrade, who just made a very unsettling discovery in a hotel room booked by Ema Nymton, the mysterious woman who burglarized Harold Boltroy's house shortly before he died. Mrs Hudson offers John to rent the 221C Baker Street, so he and Rosie can live closer to Sherlock.

Excerpt, inspired by the February prompt 'FEAR' proposed by @sherlockchallenge :

Hearing only silence from his partner, Sherlock repeated John's name, only to be met with an echoing void—John's absence, a persistent reminder. For a time, Sherlock had tried living with Billy Wiggins, a promising young man he had found on the streets, but Billy had disappeared one day and never returned. Sherlock blamed himself for scaring him away, though he knew it was for the best considering that Billy’s interests were limited to drug taking; he had hoped to teach Billy everything he knew and turn him into a good detective, but it hadn't worked out. Now, Sherlock lived alone, and sometimes loneliness crept inside him like a cold wind. It left him feeling helpless against the voices inside his head that whispered for him to end it all. But every time those voices came, he stood up straight and refused to listen.

Someday, death would come for him, whether he wanted it or not. Like the man from Samarra, he had run away from it many times before. One day, however, it would catch up with him. There were people waiting for him behind Death's curtain, eagerly awaiting his explanation for why they suffered and died because of him. Despite knowing this, Sherlock was not afraid to die. He knew his career path would lead him to an early grave, but he didn't fear it.

The only thing that scared him was the thought that maybe the people who believed in an afterlife were right, and the ones who suffered and died because of him were really waiting for him behind Death's curtain, eager to hear his explanation for what happened to them. As Sherlock put on his coat in the lobby downstairs, a sad-looking face appeared before him, staring at him intently. Dazed for a moment, he closed his eyes and shook his head to send the vision back away to the darkest corners of his memory, where it belonged.

Just as he was going to call a cab, determined to visit the late Harold Boltroy's assistant alone, Sherlock's phone rang in his pocket. A light of joy flashed in his eyes as he saw the caller's name on the screen; it was Greg Lestrade, at last!

“Sherlock? I’ve got some news. Is John with you?”

Ships: Sherlock x OFC, John x Molly, Mycroft x OMC

TW for this chapter: brief thoughts of suicide are mentioned.

CW for this chapter: mentions of platonic Adlock and Sherlolly.

[green-cargaytions]

25 and 59 if you havent gotten those already

25. Who is your role model?

Most of my music teachers are great mentors to me, not only in the subject they teach but also in general. [assistant band director] is so cool and i lowkey want to be him when i grow up

59. why i joined tumblr

i initially joined tumblr bc i was performing fandom archaeology on the sherlock bbc fandom for a project and this was where i could find a lot of the ruins of its civilization. also my friends were there and it seemed fun.

[imbiowaresbitch]

Fanfic is an Art

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Cas Novak

Rating: Explicit

Words: 7835

~~

Teaching assistant Dean Winchester has a secret. He writes smutty fanfic for his favourite TV show. The last thing he expects to see is Professor Cas Novak reading his fanfic, unknowingly projecting it onto the screen for the entire lecture hall to see. Narrowly avoiding a class discussion on gay erotica, they start talking about fanfic, and turn it into a game to see who can guess the other's AO3 handle first. Maybe over something to eat?

Catch is, Dean isn't as subtle as he thinks he is. But everyone's okay with that.

~~

Dean was on his second term as a T.A. for Professor Castiel – call me Cas – Novak. Cas was a hardass in some ways, but his creative writing course was always waitlisted, so clearly, students loved him. His style was a refreshing change from a lot of the other profs. For one, he treated his students like the adults they were by this point and always had time to review an assignment. At the beginning of the term, he set out the expectations and assignments, but he didn't set harsh, immovable deadlines. His tests and projects were hard, but he was a mesmerising speaker, and his students generally followed along gratefully.

Dean's favourite thing? He didn't treat fanfiction as a lower form of writing. They'd had a few discussions about it, from Dante's Inferno to Neil Gaiman's Sherlock and Cthulhu, then there were ones like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. He even acknowledged 50 Shades of Grey's roots as a Twilight fanfic, though he sternly warned his students against using the Grey books as a guide to BDSM.

Or writing, for that matter.

In fact, Cas maintained that fanfic was an art.

So Dean knew that Cas would be cool about Dean writing fanfic, but Dean hadn't told him yet. They were friendly after working together so long, in part 'cause Dean was a mature student, so he was only a couple years younger than Cas. He even knew Cas watched the show Dean wrote fanfic for.

Still, he was a bit nervous about people in meatsuits knowing, rather than the online fandom that he connected with so easily. He was mildly obsessed with a TV series with a doctor turned vampire and his human best friend who helped him obtain the occasional blood bag. That Jake had let Ian feed from him in an emergency at the end of the season finale had prompted hundreds of fics, and Jakian shippers had gone nuts.

Dean included.

But the last thing he expected was for Cas to finish his lecture and ask that the writing groups work together while he reviewed something, only to click around on his laptop and settle in to read. Apparently, he'd forgotten his laptop was synced to display his screen on the projector screen for all to see.

~~

Read it on AO3.

thanks to @nickelkeep and RarityLover27 for the beta!

[everythoughtihave]

An introduction

Hi!

I'm Jess, a 22-year-old student and Teaching Assistant. I am also a student at the OU.

This blog is just for me to share all sorts of stuff. I will also be writing some fanfiction and sharing some of my poetry.

I love music, movies, TV shows such as Taylor Swift, Harry Potter, Brooklyn Nine Nine, House MD, Sherlock, Dr Who, Twilight, Dead Poets Society and How To Get Away With Murder to name a few haha. I doubt I’ll write for all of this but feel free to request anything for them.

I do hope to have a more thought-out posting schedule soon but for now, it'll be as and when for original content at least, but I hope to post at least once or a week or so

Everyone is welcome here and I will keep asks, submissions and DMs open and welcomed at all times. Just don't be rude.

I have tipping available if you enjoy my writing and content and want to help me buy a coffee for each of my writing sessions but there's absolutely no expectation or pressure of course!

[kitkatt0430]

So S3 of Elementary is often disliked because Joan's moved out, Sherlock ran away for... almost a year as a result of Joan unwittingly triggering his insecurities, and Sherlock has taken on Kitty as his apprentice - but I actually really enjoy the way Sherlock and Joan basically 'coparent' Kitty in teaching her to become a detective like them throughout the season.

During season two, Joan slowly came to realize she needed a space that was entirely her own. She needed a place that was hers, not Sherlock's, to control. The answer that Joan arrived at - assisted no doubt by the social expectation that an independent person should live alone - was that she needed to move out. Which didn't have to change her working relationship with Sherlock.

Except... Sherlock panicked. He doesn't handle change well - honestly, he's probably autistic or some other kind of ND and I know my own ADHD makes grappling with change difficult sometimes - and he definitely has shades of RSD where Joan and a handful of others are concerned. He takes Joan leaving the brownstone as the same thing as Joan leaving their partnership - the incorrect conclusion but in keeping with his character for why he would jump to it. Fearing that their partnership is poised to dissolve, Sherlock ran away. Better to push everyone away - like ripping a bandage off quickly - than watch his most important relationship fall apart slowly, right?

Sherlock then attempted to replicate his relationship with Joan when he realized how much he missed her. And what he winds up with is a new dynamic with Kitty and quite likely he realizes the same thing Kitty does. He needs Joan's help to teach Kitty. Joan was singularly unique and her apprenticeship was so successful because Joan was Joan. Which is where the season begins with him. And the time apart, I would argue, has actually been a good thing for Sherlock and Joan. Did he absolutely screw up? Yes. But Joan's spent the time working on her own and establishing herself as capable of doing the work on her own. So Sherlock's return helps them to re-establish their relationship now as one of equals. She's not his sober companion or his apprentice - she's a detective in her own right with the confidence to do the job without Sherlock's mentorship and Sherlock respects that.

They have to relearn their dynamic and discard what no longer works. Their relationship as partners is, by the end of the season, stronger than it was before. It's a learning experience - so when Joan does end up moving back in with Sherlock, Sherlock realizes her need for a space under her control where she sets the boundaries has not changed. Which is why he initially kept her apartment for her, inspiring Joan to turn the basement as her own separate space and office.

[glorioustidalwavedefendor]

Friendly reminder that they met each other when each of them desperatly needed someone.

THEY DIDN'T FUCKING MEET EACH OTHER!

A FRIEND/AQUAINTANCE OF BOTH OF THEM INTRODUCED THEM!!!!

Like it was a whole scene and everything and even moffat got it right.

On the very day that I had come to this conclusion, I was standing at the Criterion Bar, when some one tapped me on the shoulder, and turning round I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barts. The sight of a friendly face in the great wilderness of London is a pleasant thing indeed to a lonely man. In old days Stamford had never been a particular crony of mine, but now I hailed him with enthusiasm, and he, in his turn, appeared to be delighted to see me. In the exuberance of my joy, I asked him to lunch with me at the Holborn, and we started off together in a hansom. “Whatever have you been doing with yourself, Watson?” he asked in undisguised wonder, as we rattled through the crowded London streets. “You are as thin as a lath and as brown as a nut.” I gave him a short sketch of my adventures, and had hardly concluded it by the time that we reached our destination. “Poor devil!” he said, commiseratingly, after he had listened to my misfortunes. “What are you up to now?” “Looking for lodgings,” I answered. “Trying to solve the problem as to whether it is possible to get comfortable rooms at a reasonable price.” “That’s a strange thing,” remarked my companion; “you are the second man to-day that has used that expression to me.” “And who was the first?” I asked. “A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital. He was bemoaning himself this morning because he could not get someone to go halves with him in some nice rooms which he had found, and which were too much for his purse.” “By Jove!” I cried, “if he really wants someone to share the rooms and the expense, I am the very man for him. I should prefer having a partner to being alone.”

SOURCE

Don't you disrespect my boy Stamford

Watson met Homles because he happened to be memorable ... in a good way

I recognized young Stamford, who had been a dresser under me at Barts.

dresser: a person who serves as a doctor's assistant especially in the dressing of lesions.

Barts: St Bartholomew's Hospital is an internationally renowned teaching hospital in the City of London.

and that is propably where Stamford met Holmes

“A fellow who is working at the chemical laboratory up at the hospital.

Whome Stamford took enough of a liking to, to bring his problem up with Watson

Friendly reminder that Doctor John Watson had no one. (...) Friendly reminder that Sherlock Holmes had no one.

Having no one means not even having a casuall aquaintance who can introduce you to someone

Having no one means you can't get your foot in to any door, because you can't get any door to open even that wide ...

Friendly reminder that Doctor John Watson had no one. He returned from the war ill and newly disabled. He had nowhere to turn at his most vunerable moments and drifted without purpose within his new, alien life.

Friendly reminder that Sherlock Holmes had no one. He was different, no one understood him. He had been battling addiction alone for years. His only chance at survival in a world he was ill-suited for was to carve out his own niche.

Friendly reminder that they met each other when each of them desperatly needed someone. Friendly reminder that Holmes was instantly open with Watson, and Watson was instantly smitten. Friendly reminder that Holmes provided Watson with a mystery, a distraction that Watson desperatly needed. Friendly reminder that Watson showered Holmes in praise when he was so unused to it. Friendly reminder that Holmes let Watson write about his life, and Watson helped him through crippling drug addiction.

They're both broken men who begin to heal in the presence of each other. They built their lives around each other, encouraged each other, comforted each other. If they hadn't met, their lives would have been worse for it.

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

L.D.S.K.

Season One Masterlist

Broken Mirror

Machismo

Summary: The BAU travels to Des Plains, Illinois to assist in a search for a LDSK which stands for Long Distance Serial Killer, in simple terms, a sniper who keeps shooting people in the stomach. Meanwhile, Spencer Reid, a confirmed genius who is unable to grasp how to shoot a gun, fails his firearms qualifications and is forced to work without a gun—profilers aren't required to use one. But as Gideon once told Hotch, "You don't have to carry a gun to kill someone" while Hotch carries two guns and Zoe carries more hidden guns than she should be able to.

Warning: Pouty Spencer Reid; Hotch jokes that Zoe is violent towards men (with a bullet to the crotch); Zoe insists Spencer Reid has "virgin" hair; Talk of empathizing with and humanizing UnSubs; Mentions of past sexual sadist; Mentions of a gun to a twelve-year-old girl's head; Mentions of David Rossi; Sniper shooting at team; Minor character death; Headshot; Blood; Zoe is implied to be able to sense if someone is shooting at her; Overly arrogant surgeon that I would prefer not to be mine (sure, he was right but I don't want a surgeon with a god complex operating on me—he reminds me of Doctor Strange in the beginning of his first movie, operating while naming music and years and being cocky at it); Hero Homicide/Hero Syndrome Complex; Jokey Implication that Zoe may physically assault an annoying person; Another UnSub hating Zoe for her brilliance and accusing her of nepotism; Hotch being mean to Zoe and kicked-into-the-sun-puppy-dog Spencer Reid; Main Character gets shot; Mind Palace; More scenes taken straight-out of the "Sherlock" BBC TV show; Zarah Noble-Valdez appearance sort of; Hint of Zoe's BPD (Hallucinations); Blood; Cursing; Panicking Alexander Noble; Hurt Spencer Reid

"Use the past to prepare for the future but never allow your past to define your future."

October 26, 2005

Spencer was redoing his firearms qualification; he wasn't very good with a firearm. The silhouette target had two gunshots just left of the head and one gunshot right of the head.

Hotch was yet again, training Spencer how to shoot again.

"On SWAT we broke shots down into three steps. One: front sight, focus on the front sight, not on the target. Two: controlled trigger press. Three: follow through, after the shot you come right back to the target." Hotch explained to Spencer, "Now, what did you do wrong?"

"I didn't follow through." Spencer sighed.

"Right. You came off the target to see where you hit." Hotch agreed.

"Hotch, my firearms qualification is tomorrow morning. I barely passed my last one." Spencer complained, taking the earmuffs off.

Hotch gently pushed Spencer so he would get out of the way and Spencer got the hint.

"Front sight, trigger press..." Hotch said, taking out his own gun while Spencer put the earmuffs back over his ears and pressed them against them. Hotch's shot hit the head of the target, "Follow through." He holstered his gun, you do those three things, you'll hit your target every time."

Hotch stepped out of the way and Spencer held up his gun again

Spencer's next shot was to the silhouette's pelvis, near the groin.

"Did Zoe teach you that?" Hotch deadpanned.

"They're going to take away my gun." Spencer sighed.

"A profiler is not required to carry it." Hotch reminded him

"Yeah? And yet you carry two of them and Zoe," He jabbed his thumb in the direction where Zoe was across the building, working, "carries at least half a dozen and she shot a one hundred on her qualifications test."

"Well, she's Agent Noble's surviving daughter. He insisted on bringing her on cases and she would not listen and kept getting herself into trouble." Hotch shrugged. "David Rossi taught her to shoot a gun when she was five and by seven, she was better than he was." He took the gun out of his ankle holster and shot three bullets right into the silhouette's chest. "When I joined the BAU, Gideon said to me, 'You don't have to carry a gun to kill someone'."

"I don't get it." Spencer said.

"You will. Good luck tomorrow."

—————————————————————————————————-

October 27, 2005

The next day, Gideon entered the BAU and Zoe called out to him, "Spencer failed his qualification."

"Well, he can re-test in two weeks."

"Yeah, but he's going to be embarrassed about it, so let's not mention it." Zoe said, giving Morgan a pointed look

"Yeah, let's not, huh?" Gideon said.

"Not a word." Morgan promised and Zoe gave him a skeptical look.

Spencer walked into the BAU, frowning, in a mood and sat at his desk.

Morgan picked up a whistle and walked to Spencer's desk.

"Hey. We're all here for you. I'm serious." Morgan said and Spencer looked up at him with a very annoyed expression as Zoe from her spot nearby glared at him. "If you ever need anything..." He put the whistle over Spencer's head, around his neck and he blew into it, making it whistle, "Just blow on that." He chuckled as he walked off and Spencer yanked the whistle off.

Zoe walked to him, "Ignore Morgan, he's an ass." Zoe said, placing Spencer's labeled mug on his table. "Here, coffee with the whole container of sugar on it. You know, you don't need a gun to kill someone."

"What does that mean?" Spencer asked.

Zoe opened her mouth when JJ approached with Hotch, "Hey. Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon. Three victims shot at distance." She started to hand out the files, "It's the third such shooting in two weeks.

"A sniper?" Elle asked.

"We don't use that word." Morgan said.

"Why not?"

"The public perception is that the FBI doesn't have an exemplary record with snipers." JJ said.

"Besides, a sniper is a professional marksman. These guys aren't snipers." Hotch said.

"What do we call them, then?"

"L.D.S.K." Zoe said.

"Long distance serial killers." Spencer clarified.

"How many of these guys have we caught using a profile?" Elle asked.

"None." Gideon said.

"First time for everything." Zoe said.

They regrouped into the conference room, going over the case.

"Two weeks. Three shooting incidents. Six victims. All shot in the abdomen. First and only fatality, Henry Sachs," Hotch clicked the remote for the monitor showing the Sachs family picture and the crime scene where he was shot, "married, father of three, shot in a shopping center parking lot." He clicked the remote, showing two men and a basketball court, "Nine days later, Doug Miller and Kevin Parks were playing basketball at a community center." He clicked the remote again, showing the picture of a park and then three people, "Franklin Park. Four days later, Jerry Middleton, Kate Murray and Tim Reilly. The Des Plaines Police have found no link between any of the victims."

"Ballistics?" Morgan asked.

"He's using frangible rounds which fragment on impact, making ballistics comparisons impossible."

"The good news is that all the park victims are going to make it. The bad news is that none of them saw anything." JJ said, "However, one of the patients does have an intact bullet lodged in his spine."

"That's a dangerous place to be shot, what's the prognosis?" Zoe asked.

"Well, there's disagreement among surgical staff as to whether they can remove the slug without paralyzing the patient."

"I'd like to talk to the doctors to get more input, see if I can be of any help." Zoe said.

"Of course." Gideon agreed.

"Well, without a useful witness or solid piece of forensic evidence..." Morgan said.

"The profile is all we'll have." Hotch finished.

—————————————————————————————————

Nietzsche wrote, "The irrationality of a thing is not an argument "against its existence, rather, a condition of it."

"L.D.S.K.s are so rare we haven't been able to build a standard profile." Hotch said on the way to Illinois in the jet, "Here's what we do know: they're always male, they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

"To take credit or relive the experience?" JJ asked.

"Both. All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim. Contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have." Gideon said.

"The Beltway Shooters left a tarot card at one of their crime scenes. Later they called a tip hotline which ultimately led to their capture." Hotch said.

"But our UnSub hasn't contacted anybody." Morgan said.

"He will."

"Until he does, what do we have?" Elle asked.

"Sometimes it's not what the UnSub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do." Gideon said.

"He doesn't kill his victims." Spencer said.

"Underkill is a unique signature." Gideon said.

"Question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally, just to wound them? Or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target? Specifically, does the UnSub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?" Hotch asked.

"Zoe, how dangerous is a gunshot to the stomach?" Gideon asked.

"It's probably the safest, for lack of a better word, place to be shot, it's less likely any vital organs will be shot, and it varies on the amount of time before blood loss leads to death." Zoe explained.

—————————————————————————————————

Zoe and Gideon were led to a room in the hospital where two surgeons were arguing, "Come on, Barry, you don't know that!"

"Good morning, doctors" Cheryl Marston, a hospital resident who was leading the agents through the hospital and introducing them.

"Forgive us. We were just reviewing the cases at hand." The man who had spoken before said.

"This is Doctor Neil Erstadt, Chief of Surgery, and our trauma specialist, Doctor Barry Landman." Marston introduced, "These are the FBI profilers, Agents Gideon, Jareau, Greenaway, Noble-Valdez."

"Doctor Noble-Valdez." Gideon corrected and Zoe waved her hand.

Gideon shook hands with Erstandt, "How are you?" He reached to shake with Landman.

"You'll forgive me. I don't shake. My hands, you understand?"

Clearly this was one of those big ego doctors like.

"Of course." Gideon said.

"I'm sorry, did you say this little girl is a doctor?" Landman asked, skeptically.

"I turn twenty in a few days."

"You're nineteen and a doctor? A PhD, I presume? At your age."

"No, it's a medical degree. I got it when I was seventeen." Zoe said, trying not to be showboaty but still Landman visibly clenched his jaw.

"She's a genius." Gideon said. "She's a forensic pathologist as well as a forensic psychologist."

"So as psychological profilers, what exactly are you looking for?" Landman asked.

"How the victims were shot. That could reveal the shooter's signature behavior." Gideon said.

"These separate wound channels 'blossom' from the entrance wounds. You can see the trauma is extensive." Erstadt said, referring to the

"You performed the surgeries?" Zoe asked.

"On patient Miller. I consulted with Dr. Landman on the others."

"It looks like the intact slug lodged between the L4-L5 vertebrae." Zoe observed.

"Any attempt to remove it would likely leave the patient paralyzed." Erstadt said.

"In your opinion." Landman scoffed in a tone that clearly said that he thought his opinion was so much more superior than Erstadt's.

In my opinion?" Erstadt asked, incredulously.

"Disagree?" Gideon asked.

"With the right surgeon, there is no risk." Landman said, arrogantly.

"There's always risk." Zoe said, sternly. "There's always a possibility on success and there's always risk."

"What significance does the bullet have in building the profile?" Marston asked.

Well, even if we can't get a ballistics match, we can get a rifle type, and the specific type of rifle the suspect uses." Gideon explained, "That could be very significant to the profile.

"You believe you can safely perform the surgery, Dr. Landman?

"I know I can."

————————————————————————————————

"I think if Landman talks too much, I might punch him. He's insisting he bags up the bullet. Arrogant prick." Zoe said a while later after re-entering the conference room, after helping with the surgery. She was struggling to pull her hair out of a braided crown.

"Zoe, Zoe, come here before you rip your hair out." JJ laughed, gently.

Zoe sat in the chair next to JJ as JJ carefully undid the braided crown and started to redo another crown braid, this one was a half-up, half-down one.

Zoe leaned her head back and let her. She hadn't had many motherly figures in her life. Sure, all three of Rossi's ex-wives, Gideon's ex-wife, Jill Gideon, but she had rarely had someone willing to braid her hair... other than Zarah and then...

Gideon smiled at this, Zoe so rarely had someone in her life, willing to actually care for her in the way that a mother would even though JJ was only five years older than Zoe. Zarah had always had that way of care for Zoe but after Zarah went missing, Zoe refused to let anyone do it.

"If I'm the UnSub, why do I shoot my victims between two-fifty-five and three-fifteen?" Elle asked.

"That's when I'd do it." Gideon said. "There are fewer cops on the street."

"Why's that?" Elle asked.

"Well, the police overlap shifts, so there's always someone minding the store. Second shift starts at three, first shift walks at three-thirty." Gideon explained.

"Wouldn't there be twice as many cops on the street at that time?" JJ asked, still gently doing the braid in Zoe's hair.

"In theory." Zoe said.

"First half-hour of your shift, you're in roll call, you're not on the street. And the last half-hour, you're at the station, you're finishing reports, you're booking prisoners. So the twenty-five minutes around the first/second shift, that's a bad guy's golden window."

"When you spend your childhood in police stations all over America, you pick up on things like that." Zoe said.

"How many people outside law enforcement would know that?" Elle asked and looked at Gideon and she pointed at him. "But the UnSub does, and you've already thought of this."

"I had considered it." Gideon said.

Landman entered the room and Zoe rolled her eyes. He held up the now bagged bullet and dropped it on the table in front of Gideon, "Hope you find it useful."

"Doctor Landman? How is Mister Middleton?"

"The patient will make a full recovery. As I told you he would." Landman said.

"It's apparently a regular thing for him to have someone play music and he identifies it while he's doing the surgery." Zoe said, "No respect."

"Radiology is set up to take photos and e-mail them out for consults." JJ said.

"Call Hotch. We're getting the bullet to Garcia. Fill him in on the shift-change theory." Gideon said.

—————————————————————————————————-

Later that day, there was another shooting at a cafe and after observing the crime scene, they gave the profile to the police.

"This initial profile is not ready to be given to the media. Releasing this profile prematurely can get people killed." JJ warned the officers. She stepped away and Hotch took her place.

"We're looking for a thirty to forty-year-old male veteran driving a car large enough to shoot from, but not so large it was noticed. Like the Beltway Shooter, it's probably a sedan, customized to conceal the shooter, his weapon and the sound of his shot. The UnSub suffers from both narcissistic and paranoid personality disorders. He works out obsessively and is never without a weapon. He's completely self-centered and cannot empathize with others. Incapable of admitting fault, he blames his shortcomings on those around him. He has no friends, and his career history has been marked by frequent job changes. He's drawn to high-stakes jobs by a need to prove his superiority to a world he perceives has undervalued him. And these shootings are the ultimate expression of that need. We believe he changes jurisdictions intentionally, and strikes during the first/second shift change, indicating an intimate knowledge of law enforcement."

"You're saying he's one of us?" One of the police officers said.

"We're saying he once was, or is now, a police officer." Hotch said.

"Is he driving a white van, too?" One police officer quipped, making some of the officers laugh.

"Enough." Sergeant Wayne Weigart said. "That'll be all for now." He turned to Hotch, "We can talk in my office."

"Thank you." Hotch told the officers.

—————————————————————————————————-

Spencer walked up to where Gideon, Alexander, and Zoe were. Alexander was badgering Zoe about taking her pills and her migraines.

"Dad-Daddy!" She grumbled. "We're in Illinois, I don't have a migraine, that's only in hot southern states."

Gideon looked up to see Spencer. "How you holding up?"

"Look at me. Without a gun on my belt, I look like a teaching assistant." Spencer complained.

"You're not worried about how you look." Alexander asked, "if that were true, you wouldn't have that hair."

"What is it with the Nobles and their standards on hair?" Spencer asked, irritably.

"It screams virgin." Zoe remarked. "And you always dress like this."

"Hotch told me that when he came to the BAU, you told him he didn't need a gun to kill somebody?" Spencer asked Gideon as his mentor stood up.

"He told me that nearly every day, he took me to practice shooting." Zoe said.

"Zelena used to say it." Alexander said.

"Well, the only truly effective weapon we have is our ability to do the one thing they can't." Gideon said.

"Which is what?"

"Empathize." Zoe said.

"They dehumanize their victims; we humanize the killers." Gideon agreed.

"You're just saying that to convince me I don't need to carry a gun." Spencer sighed.

"I don't care if you carry a gun or not. Deadliest weapon we have is a thorough and accurate profile."

"Of course, you believe that." Spencer said.

"Footpath Killer—he had a shotgun in the back of my head. I'm here, he's not." Gideon said and then moved past Spencer and Alexander followed him.

"You know, David Rossi?" Zoe asked Spencer.

"Of course." Spencer said.

"When I was a toddler, I used to do crosswords with him until I finished them faster than him... in pen. He pouted about it for... seventeen years now."

"So? And is there any other way to do crossword puzzles?"

"He told me that the mind of a profiler may just be all you need against an UnSub with a gun. You just need to know what kind of a UnSub you're dealing with and he was right. When I was twelve years old a sexual sadist serial killer who got off on power and control held a gun to my head after he chased my sister and I through an entire storage site."

"Who?"

"It's not important. He shot the men and stabbed the women."

"A misogynist." He gathered.

"He targeted women out of hatred. The solid victimology was the younger the female the more he stabbed them."

"A hebephile."

"I was twelve years old; what do you think he wanted to do to me and here I am six years later and he's non-active." Zoe stepped closer to Spencer. "I was a captive of a cult—a cult that was created because I refused to break under any of the torture, they put me through—for eight months under the orders of a serial killer who was obsessed with me and guess what I'm here and they're not."

"Why didn't he shoot you?" Spencer couldn't help but ask.

"I knew his profile. They didn't even have an official profile but I knew enough to use it against him. I didn't give him the one thing he wanted—fear. Therefore, stripping his control over me..." But then she gulped.

"What?"

"So he found another way to have control over me." She trailed off.

Spencer could tell she didn't want to talk about it anymore. "I like your hair like that." He said, softly.

—————————————————————————————————-

October 28, 2005

They were doing a reenactment of the shooting in the park; they were spread out among the park. Sergent Weigart, Detective Calvin, and Gideon were in the van, looking at the cameras shown by some of the agents and officers.

"Elle, Jerry Middleton was facing a little further south. Can you give us that?" Hotch asked.

"How's that?" Elle asked.

"Perfect. Hold your camera right there."

"It doesn't look like Jerry Middleton had a clear view of the sniper's vehicle when he was shot. The tree branches are in the way." Gideon said through the walkie-talkie.

"I do have a clear view of the vehicle from here. Tim Reilly would have seen it if he'd looked down from the kite." Spencer's voice said some twenty yards away from Zoe who was taking oddly specific steps and muttering to herself, switching between Spanish and English.

"Good, have the UnSub pop the trunk, see if Reid can see it. " Gideon said.

"No, sorry. I can't."

"Nothing from position one."

"Okay, everybody, move to position two."

"What the hell is Zoe doing?" Morgan asked and Zoe held up her hand and flipped him off without turning around.

"Zoe." Hotch scolded into the walkie-talkie.

"Is she okay?" Spencer asked Alexander, nodding to Zoe.

Zoe had been quiet all day. She was wearing more moon jewelry can usual, opal moon stud earrings, a chain charm bracelet, along with the necklace that matched the earrings.

"It's Zarah's twentieth birthday." Alexander told him.

"Oh. I'm sorry." Spencer said. Then he went to approach Zoe. "Hey. What are you doing?"

"My cousin, Maze, she was a tracker and she taught me how to track where people could be. If someone what right here, they would've had the best visual of the UnSub."

"But no one was."

"Yeah." She sighed.

"Agent Noble, uh, your dad, told me..."

"Yeah, it's the fourth time. It tends to come once a year." Zoe sighed, "I don't want to talk about it."

"So, um, you know David Rossi, what's he like?"

"Um... Italian, loud, gets married and divorced every six months or so, easily irritated, smug, arrogant, sarcastic, obsessive, egotistical, overprotective, disobedient, rude, bossy, wry, ornery..." She said.

"Half of that sounds like you." Spencer joked in his usual even voice, and he gave her his usual awkward smile, telling her it was a joke, a sarcastic smile appeared on her lips as she looked at him.

"Mmm. Where's your gun again?" She teased back, she walked a little way away, still in that specific stepping.

Zoe turned when SWAT went to the practice car, throwing the smoke bomb in. Elle started to run behind a tree.

"Reid!" Morgan said, running to Spencer.

"What?"

"Reid, get down!" Then he tackled the already unathletic Spencer down.

"Zoe, get down!" Alexander shouted but Zoe didn't move. She looked at the car they were using. She stood stock-still, something she only did when she was deep in thought and really focusing, when she was on an even higher alert than usual, when she was focusing on everything around her.

Weigart was speaking, "Toss your rifle and your side arm out of the vehicle and show us your hands!"

"I don't understand." McCarthy was in the car, playing the unsub as punishment for mouthing off. But he didn't quite fit the profile in Zoe's mind. He sounded genuinely confused.

"We know what you did, Scotty."

"Look, I can explain."c

"Don't make me give the order!" Weigart shouted.

"Okay, all right, all right!"

Zoe saw him toss the rifle out of the car and Weigart said something but with a lowered, calmer voice and she couldn't quite hear what he was saying but assumed it was an order to open the lid, slowly as McCarthy did just that.

He got out with his hands up, looking at his Sergent as he and the SWAT agents pointed guns at him until one of them, pushed him to the ground to arrest him.

Zoe suddenly turned her head just left of them to see another car and the license plate slot open.

"EVERYONE GET DOWN!" She shouted into the walkie-talkie but before anyone could react to her warning McCarthy was shot in the head.

"Shot fired!"

"Get down!"

Zoe ran towards the car, despite the team screaming under suddenly she spun out of the way just before a bullet hit her, grazing her shoulder and she took cover behind a tree. When she looked back the car was gone and she hadn't taken note of what kind of car it was or seen the license plate.

"ANGEL!"

—————————————————————————————————-

They walked into the police station, Zoe was holding a cloth to her arm that was bleeding while Alexander just about was on her heels holding her leather jacket.

"Dad! It's a graze. It's a simple fix." She shouted, taking out her med pack; Spencer, having read about first aid went over to her to help.

"How did McCarty end up playing the UnSub?" JJ asked Detective Calvin as Spencer checked Zoe's wound to see if there was any foreign material in the wound.

"Weigart punished McCarty for mouthing off during the profile briefing by making him the UnSub and sticking him in the trunk of the car all afternoon." She explained as Zoe cleaned the wound.

"Wait, then how did the UnSub find out about the re-enactment?" JJ asked as Zoe spread antibiotic cream around her graze.

"Look, come on, cops talk. Pissed-off cops talk loud. At home, at the bars, at gyms, and to anyone who'll listen." Morgan said as Spencer helped Zoe place an adhesive bandage over the graze.

"What do we know?" Gideon asked, "Our UnSub went from wounding civilians to executing a police officer. So, he's escalated. He's not staying on script."

"Sometimes it's what they don't do." Hotch repeated what Gideon had said at the beginning of the case.

"He did not pick McCarty at random." Spencer said.

"He didn't take the gut shot." Morgan added.

"Why?" Hotch asked.

Gideon looked around at them.

"He wants to send a message." Zoe said "'Nobody takes credit for my work'."

"Yes, ma'am, his ego won't allow it. He feels underappreciated.

"Did you just call me, ma'am?" Zoe asked.

"Okay. But we still don't know why he wounds them." Elle said as Morgan's phone rang.

"Excuse me." He said, taking the phone call and walking off to take it.

"We know if a killer has no contact with his victims, he will contact the media." Gideon said.

"But he hasn't contacted the media." Elle said.

"So, he has contact with his victims." Zoe said. "And there's only one way."

"All right, thanks." Morgan said and rejoined them, "Garcia nailed down the geographic profile. The crime scenes are centered on two separate locations."

"The hospitals."

—————————————————————————————————-

Zoe took her motorcycle, weaving through the cars while in one of the cars, Gideon said, "I believe it's a case of 'hero homicide'."

"What's that?" Detective Calvin asked.

"The best-known case was hospital nurse Richard Angelo. He would inject toxins into his victims, then wait for them to crash so that he could run to the rescue and save them." Spencer explained. "He killed twenty-five people, and that's just that we know of."

If he attacked them to save them, why did he kill twenty-five people?" Detective Calvin asked.

"Wasn't very good at it." Gideon said, dryly.

"Yeah, and hospitals don't keep records of people who almost died."

"So, what's the profile of one of these guys?" Detective Calvin asked.

"Arrogant. Conceited. Feel superior to everyone around them."

"You've just described every surgeon I've ever met." Detective Calvin chuckled.

"Except Zoe." Spencer said and then bit his lip, awkwardly.

Gideon's memory went to when Zoe came out of helping Landman with surgery and she was complaining about Landman's ego. "Landman. Let's start with Landman."

—————————————————————————————————-

Zoe was in the hospital conference room from before already with Marston, "Landman?" She asked, "Already called Garcia on a background on Landman."

A little later, it was faxed over, and Morgan picked up the paper from the printer. "Okay, courtesy of Garcia. Landman was Army. Started out in MP school."

"Well, there's your law enforcement." Elle said.

"He was smart. Got a degree on Uncle Sam and ended up a doctor with Special Forces. And bounced around from hospital to hospital since his discharge in 2001." Morgan said.

"Has Doctor. Landman been under any unusual strain? Has he had a reprimand? Has he had any kind of major blow to his ego?"  Gideon asked Marston

"Last month he was passed over for Chief of Surgery." She said.

"Let's get a warrant for his house. Let's see if we find the weapon." Gideon said.

"Okay." Morgan said, getting up.

"What can I do to help?" Marston asked.

"You can tell me where he is right now." Gideon said.

—————————————————————————————————-

Gideon and Zoe entered the MRI room where Landman was. He turned to see them.

"Where's Marston?" He asked.

"She's not coming." Gideon said.

He turned back to the MRI scans and tried to dismiss them, "Look, I'm very busy right now. Perhaps you could make an appointment."

We're the FBI, we don't need to make appointments.

"Busy with what?" Zoe asked, innocently.

"Things." He said, irritably like she was an annoying little child.

"What kind of things?" Zoe asked with the same innocent tone, with an only slightly patronizing tone.

Landman finally turned and then spotted Alexander looking through the window, then Elle, JJ, and Spencer arrived.

He looked at Zoe and Gideon like they were stupid.

"You're considering me a suspect?"

Yes." Gideon and Zoe said.

"Well, that's disconcerting. I heard what happened to your last suspect."

"Do you wanna know why?" Gideon asked.

"Collective incompetence?" Landman scoffed.

Oh, like you're so much better.

"No, actually, like Doctor Erstadt and I told you, there's always risk." Zoe said, he just looked at her annoyed. "Have you ever heard of hero homicide?" Zoe asked and then continued on before he could answer, "According to Laura Berman Fortgang described it as a phenomenon affecting people who seek heroism or recognition, usually by creating a desperate situation which they can resolve and subsequently receive the accolades from."

Spencer mouthed along with Zoe's word, nodding in approval at the accuracy.

"Would I be less suspicious if I let my patients die?" He scoffed.

"Absolutely." Zoe said, shaking her head just to spite him.

Alexander turned to Spencer, JJ, and Elle as Hotch arrived.

"There's like a sixty-five percent chance Landman will need immediate surgery by the end of the hour." Alexander deadpanned.

"That is accurate." Spencer nodded.

"This type of killer seeks the power over life and death." Gideon said from inside the room. "He covets the power of God."

"Do you know anyone like that?" Zoe asked.

"I want you to understand something, little girl.  When my patients are in the operating room, they need God, and that is exactly what I give them. When someone's holding your beating heart in their hands, who do you want holding it? Me? Or God?" Landman said, pretty much embodying the description Gideon had just given.

"I'd like it not to be you, I know that," Zoe deadpanned.

"Where were you today at three o'clock?" Gideon asked.

"I was in my office."

"Alone?"

I was in my office with Doctor Hannah Pate. I'm not the only one who thinks I'm a god. She's in the ER right now. Go on. Ask her."

"I'm gonna leave and ask Doctor Pate before I punch him." Zoe muttered to Gideon and left. Then Zoe poked her head in and pointed at the MRI scans. "Also, that patient has a blood clot in the brain not a tumor. Guess Doctor God Big Ego missed that." She pulled her head back out of the door and turned to the group. "What'd I tell you, arrogant prick."

"Zeo, Reid, let's take a walk down to the ER." Hotch said and the two youngest agents followed their unit chief.

"My guess is, Doctor Pate is going to corroborate Landman's alibi." Hotch said.

"You don't think Landman's the shooter?" Spencer asked.

"Richard Angelo wanted to be a hero because in his everyday life he was nobody." Hotch said. "Landman is a surgeon. He has power and recognition."

"So much power, he thinks he's a god. I bet ten years from now he'll be as convinced as Empedocles was." Zoe muttered, sarcastically.

"Yeah, but you know, surgeons are a different breed. They're the stars in their field and Landman is definitely not one of them." Spencer said.

"Yeah, he can't tell the difference between a brain clot and a tumor." Zoe said, "He insists that there is no risk with the right surgeon and his displays a lack of empathy for his patients with no ability for bedside manner. His god complex is practically bordering on delusion, no wonder he was passed for the promotion. Even his superiors can tell there's something not right with him."

"Excuse me. I'd like to speak with Doctor Pate." Hotch said to a male nurse when they reached the station, showing his FBI badge.

"Yes, sir, I'll go find her for you." He said and left.

Zoe sighed, heavily.

"What?"

"The motivations for hero homicide are excitement, power and respect. And even though Landman's not a star, he still gets respect. And he lets it go to his head."

"She's right. Racing against the clock to save someone's life is exciting." Hotch agreed.

"Maybe it's not exciting enough, that's... That's why he shoots three people at a time." Spencer suggested.

"Don't get me wrong. Landman has issues and I would recommend he get a psych eval, he most likely has narcissistic personality disorder. He's a viable suspect for hero homicide but... But he can only operate on one at a time. Even he doesn't have that much of a God complex. It wouldn't be any more exciting."

They looked around at the hospital staff interacting with the patients.

"At least not for Landman. And not in the OR." Hotch said.

"Policemen and ER personnel are on the exact same twenty-four-hour shift schedule." Spencer realized.

"The UnSub wasn't shooting at shift change because there are fewer cops on the street." Hotch realized, "He works the second shift in the emergency room!"

"Contact with the victims." Spencer said, excitedly.

Hotch took out his phone but a nurse told him, "Sir, you can't use a cell phone in the hospital."

"The electromagnetic waves of a phone can cause interference with sensitive equipment, especially devices that monitor physiological effects." Zoe confirmed, nodding.

Hotch, Spencer, and Zoe moved over to the nurse, "Excuse me for a minute, please. We're FBI agents, and we believe that one of your staff members might be the sniper. Now the man that we're looking for works second shift and he would have transferred from Arlington in the past two weeks."

"We haven't hired any new personnel in two months." The nurse said.

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah. Look, I've got patients who need me...

"Please." Zoe pleaded, "He's shooting people so he can tend to them in the hospital. He's already killed two people. He's in his thirties. He's vain, rude, arrogant, he works out, he shows up to work late, he blames others for his mistakes, doesn't take responsibility for his behavior, all of his co-workers detest him..."

"Oh, my God. It's Phillip Dowd." She realized with fear. "He's... He picks up shifts at Arlington."

"Is he here today?" Hotch asked.

"Oh, my God." The nurse said, looking around, fearful for her patients.

"Okay..." Hotch gently took her by the arms to get her to focus on him. "Okay. Your patients need you calm. Tell me, is Dowd working today?" The nurse nodded. "Do you see him?" The nurse looked around and shook her head. Hotch turned to Spencer, "Go tell Gideon."

Spencer went to hurry but Hotch said, "Reid. Easy." Spencer nodded. "Zoe, go with him."

Zoe nodded and joined Spencer. Then a male nurse started to pass them but then he suddenly moved, Zoe's instincts kicked in and she ducked, her hand missed grabbing onto Spencer's to pull him down, and spun around, ending up in a position with one knee on the floor, one foot flat on the floor and her fingertips touching the floor, meanwhile she heard the butt of the rifle hit Spencer in the face, knocking him down.

Zoe used her excellent deductive skills to deduce that this must be Dowd. He shot at the fuse box, making the lights go out, except a few. Yeah, gotta set the mood for a mass shooting. They were on lockdown.

Dowd has grabbed a security guard and was using him as a human body shield against Hotch's gun. Zoe was checking on Spencer, making sure he didn't have a concussion by checking his eyes.

"Nobody moves, and nobody dies!" Dowd shouted.

Dowd turned to see Zoe, still on the floor, now holding her gun at him, a protective rage glinting in her eyes.

"Better be a head shot." He told Zoe and Hotch, "I got this on full auto. Anything less, I go down squeezing the trigger."

Hotch slowly lowered his gun. Dowd looked at Zoe who still had her gun up.

"Noble-Valdez, stand down."  Hotch said.

Zoe's amber eyes darted back to Dowd, the same rage piercing and then she lowered her gun, moving it so she was holding it out for him.

Dowd kicked the security guard down to his knees and he moved towards Hotch, holding the rifle at him and he picked up Hotch's gun. Then he moved back and took Zoe's from her with her still glaring.

"Get up! Get over here!" He shouted at Zoe and Spencer. Double time, let's go!" Spencer moved across the room with his hands up, awkwardly as usual. Zoe strode past Dowd, giving him a glare.

"You, take your partners' guns, put it on the counter." Dowd told Hotch

"He's not armed." Hotch said but Dowd didn't seem convinced, "See for yourself."

"Hands on your heads."

Spencer, Hotch, and Zoe obeyed, playing their hands on their heads.

Dowd approached Spencer and aggressively yanked Spencer's messenger bag off.

"Hey, easy!" Zoe growled and Dowd pointed his rifle right at her head to shut her up.

He checked Spencer for guns but didn't find any and threw Spencer's

"You. You're the one Landman was talking about. The child doctor."

"Doctor Zoe Noble-Valdez." Zoe sighed, "you want my badge wallet thing too?"

"Nobel-Val... wasn't your mother brutally killed or something? You'll have more than one gun."

Zoe glared at him as she removed the gun from her other hip. Then she lifted her leg with perfect balance and pulled a gun from her ankle and then the other and handed them to Spencer to put on the counter. She pulled two more guns hidden on her upper thighs under her skirt. She pulled another gun, tucked in her front and then one tucked into her side and then the other side, then it turned out she had a double shoulder holster, so two more guns, and one tucked into the small of her back.

"So, he has no gun and you have twelve guns?"

"My family are either in law enforcement or are criminals." Zoe deadpanned. "And my dad's a little paranoid and my mentor is basically a ninja. My mom died when I was a baby, and I was basically raised by the founders of the BAU who see the worst of humanity."

"Anymore?"

"Where else could I possibly be carrying a gun?" She asked.

"Get up, Keith." Dowd said and the security guard he had been using as a human shield got up and Dowd took out zip ties and handed to them, "Put those on them."

Zoe lowered her hands, clenching them so there would be wiggle room and he did the same to Spencer and Hotch.

Zoe was already mentally listing ways of getting out of these zip-ties. She had had plenty of practice. She didn't have enough privacy to use the paracord shoelace as a friction saw or to tighten the zip tie and then thrust it downwards to it forcibly breaks open, not unless Dowd was way stupider than they thought.

Now put them on yourself. Now, step back. Back up. Back up. Back up." Then he hit Keith in the face with the butt of his rifle.

"Hey, there's no need for anyone to get hurt!" Zoe protested.

"Shut up, little girl!" Dowd shouted, pointing the rifle at her but she didn't even blink as he held it to her face. "Get down on the ground."

Spencer sat at once with a wounded puppy dog look in his eyes. "You too, little girl."

"Like I'm not already close enough to it?" She asked, defiantly.

"I will shoot you."

She felt Spencer tug at her pants leg, she didn't see it but he gave her a pleading puppy dog face. She moved her head so her hair got out of her face and all while glaring, she slowly kneeled next to Spencer.

"Have a seat." He said to Hotch who sat in a chair.

“Now what kind of FBI agent doesn’t carry a gun?”

“I’m a profiler.” Spencer said, softly.

“Profiler. They sent you to figure me out. Are you a profiler too, little girl? What are you, fifteen?”

“I’m nineteen. I turn twenty in three days” She said. “I’m a prodigy.”

“Oh yeah?” He sneered, he didn’t like that.

“Yeah. I got my first degree when I was seven. I’ve got twenty-four now. Medical degree when I was seventeen. Joined the academy when I was eighteen.” She said, subtly trying to distract him from everyone else, if he was going to shoot anyone else, she wanted it to be her and if she provoked him enough, he’d aim for the stomach so she would suffer. She could make it.

“What’s your IQ?”

“I never took one. I believe they’re unfair.”

“You probably cheated.”

"Good genes, I guess." She said with a shrug.

"So they sent you three to figure me out?”

“We did. That’s how we found you.” Spencer said.

“Shh. Shut up, Reid.” Hotch said.

"No, don't shut up." Dowd said and Zoe glanced at Hotch and then to the door. "Tell me what you think you know about me."

"Go ahead, genius. Tell him. Tell him. But remember, get it wrong and he's going to kill you." Hotch said, in a patronizing tone to Spencer who had tears stained around his eyes.

Spencer looked up at Dowd and then back down, staring at Zoe's bracelet.

"Okay, you're the boss, you tell me. Who am I? What's my plan?"

"We know you shot eleven people in broad daylight and left us nothing. You executed a cop in front of the FBI and got away clean. And I know your plan is to go down in a hail of bullets."

"What else do you know?"

—————————————————————————————————-

On the other side of the hospital as the police force got their guns ready, Morgan told the rest of the BAU, including a pacing Alexander, about Dowd, "He joined the Army at eighteen. Went to Ranger school. Did six years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it and joined the Arlington PD."

"You were right. He was a cop." JJ said.

"For nine months. When they found out he lied about the discharge, they kicked him out. Soon thereafter, Dowd got his nursing license. He's been bouncing from hospital to hospital ever since." Elle said.

—————————————————————————————————-

"I know you're the smartest guy in every room you've ever been in, and no one's ever known it. People feel threatened by you and try to sabotage you every chance they get. You're not a bad person. You helped save all of your victims afterwards. First guy wasn't your fault. If the EMTs had been there on time, he would've lived." Hotch said, playing into Dowd's fantasy world where he was center of the universe and everyone else was the villain.

"Took those guys thirteen minutes. Thirteen!"

"You want to barricade the door." Hotch suddenly said.

"What?"

"Have me and the kids do it. Let them see you that you've got three FBI agents in here doing your bidding." Hotch said.

"Yeah, right. Let you give them a signal?"

"What signal? They knew you were in here. They knew you were armed. What can I tell them?" Hotch asked.

"What is this? Some sort of profiler trick? New negotiation tactic?" Dowd asked, pointing his gun more so at Hotch.

"You think they'd work on you?" Zoe asked and Dowd looked at her and moved his gun to point down at her, making Spencer flinch and close his eyes tightly for a moment. Unlike Spencer, she didn't look away. She knew she was the most likely person to be shot. She was better known than Spencer and she was everything Dowd hated. "We only use those for those too stupid or delusional."

"Yeah, the barricade's a good idea, though. Now why would you want to help me?"

"I don't."

Dowd seemed to be thinking hard, truly believing he was the smartest in the room. "You said they knew I was in here."

"I said, 'They know you're in here'."

"No. That's not what you said." Dowd said.

"This is gonna get real annoying real quick." Zoe muttered.

"Why does it matter?" Spencer asked.

"It matters because your partner wants to help me even though he doesn't know it. Go ahead, Boss Man. Tell him why. If you lie or leave anything out, pop."

"They knew he was in here. They knew he was armed and dangerous. And they knew that he was gonna fight to the last round. And they sent me in here with a kid who can't shoot his way out of a wet paper bag and a traumatized ADHD Bipolar teenage girl kidnap victim with violent tendencies who only got this job because her daddy who along with her mom who she killed by being born co-founded the BAU, then nine months ago, her daddy begged me to give her this job because her psycho cousin nearly got her killed and then killed a bunch of other people.”

“Oh, your daddy got you this job. No wonder you have so many degrees.” Dowd mocked Zoe and then turned to Hotch. "They set you up."

"Exactly, and they're probably laughing about it right now." Hotch spat.

"And that's why you want to help me."

"I wouldn't say I want to help you. But when they come in here to get revenge for the cop you killed, you're gonna go down fighting. And in the crossfire, a lot of us are going to die. They sent me in here, I figure why make it easy for them?"

—————————————————————————————————

Gideon walked up to Weigart, "Please don't send your men in yet."

"You have to consider the possibility that your agents are dead, or at least disarmed." Weigart said.

"Agent Hotchner is a very experienced profiler. He's gonna do whatever he has to do to get Dowd to like, trust, respect him. And... And once he does, he will get Dowd to end this peacefully. I... I just ask you to give him time.

"Dowd has already shot ten people. He killed a cop!" Weigart argued.

The cop is dead. This man is a violent, deranged paranoid. It's a game. He's gonna—He's gonna do whatever he has to. You send your men in, they're just gonna become villains in his little hero fantasy. You're letting him call all the shots.

"How are your unarmed agents going to stop him?" Weigart asked.

"They're not unarmed. They have his profile. They understand him. Zoe will make sure no innocents get shot, if anyone is shot, chances are it will be her before anyone else."

"Unfortunately." Alexander said, appearing beside Gideon whose face looked as if he had aged ten years, "Since she was a child, I've been teaching her how to use that profile against them and that's how she has survived.

"Three minutes, and my men are ready to take the ER. Your agents have three minutes."

"My daughter has done the impossible is less than three minutes." Alexander nodded, confidently. She came back, didn't she? Alexander always thought of Zoe as completing the impossible. Three minutes before all his hope was gone until he found out his daughter did the impossible and survived. All in three minutes. That's how long it can take.

—————————————————————————————————-

“You know why they took away boy genius' gun?” Hotch asked.

“Why?”

“He failed his qualification. Twice a year I gotta listen to him whine about re-qualifying, so I tutor him, and he fails again.” Hotch said, Zoe edged her zip-tied hands to Spencer’s and took his hand.

“You think you've got it rough? These people have done nothing but undermine me since I got here."

“Put them next to the barricade. That way, when they blast their way in here both of our problems are solved. That sort of thing could ruin a cop's career.”

“You are one sick dude.” Dowd chuckled.

“How do you think we found you?” Zoe said, darkly.

"You've been awfully quiet, Landman said you wouldn't shut up. I want to know what you think of my profile."

"We've never caught someone like you with a profile." She skirted.

"You've never profiled a sniper?"

"No, I've profiled tons of snipers. But you're not a sniper. A sniper is a professional marksman with training including the ability to not sleep for seventy-two hours and still focus and fantasy integration. I have that training. You don't. We call you a 'Long Distance Serial Killer' or a LDSK."

"You have sniper training."

"I have more training than you could imagine. Why do you think I carry twelve guns?" Thirteen.

Hotch's jaw was clenched. He knew what she was doing. She had one hidden gun left. He knew where. Zoe was trying to spare Spencer from doing this. She had already taken her first life when she was thirteen in self-defense. She had been slowly riling up Dowd so he'd want her to suffer.

"Take off the bracelet!" Dowd suddenly shouted, Zoe hadn't realized her moon bracelet had been making noises and when he grabbed for the bracelet the zip-ties she had wiggled out of fell the floor.

There was a long moment of silence before Zoe moved, yanking out a small gun stashed in a place a guy would fear to see a gun most, tucked into her bra from beneath. She could save Spencer from doing this.

But Dowd was quicker, her comments worked, and he shot her in the stomach. There was the whistling noise of a silence rifle sounded followed by soft clatter of her gun to the floor. She barely flinched when the bullet pierced her skin, only a slight movement from the sudden force.

Being shot was different than being tortured where the goal had been not to kill her but to test her limits. When she was tortured, she was acutely aware of everything they were doing that she had to force herself to go somewhere else

Her body went numb with shock, she didn't feel pain at first, just the pressure but the pain quickly joined in, becoming blindingly painful, well it would for a normal person, but her pain threshold was high. She looked down at her midriff to see a growing spot of blood.

Her brain kicked into overtime as she mentally recounted the facts and time slowed down to her, the hospital room melting away.

A symptom she experiences due to her... honestly, she wasn't sure, could just be her high intelligence and ability to dissociate or some side effect of some disorder associated from the prolonged and repeated traumas she experienced, but she had hallucinations. They only happened when she’s stressed, sleep-deprived, low on sugar or caffeine, drugged, traumatized, or especially emotionally vulnerable. 

The hallucinations both help and haunt her. She would hallucinate her mother when in captivity, inspiring her to be strong. Sometimes, she felt her instincts for her surroundings came to her in hallucinations warning her. Sometimes, she would see them just staring at her.

Now, she saw Spencer Reid in a white medical coat and Zarah. She knew it was Zarah from the clothing and higher pitch.

“One of the many errors in television and movies is what it’s like to be shot with a bullet.” Spencer said, his hair was different, it was better, it was all curly and short. It looked fluffy, Zoe wanted to run her hand through it, but Zarah grabbed her by the shoulder and spun her around in her mind.

“You know the answer to this because you’ve seen this happen again and again. It didn’t go through you.” Zarah said.

“You were shot with a sniper gun at close range through several layers of customized body armor at close range. There was resistance so the likelihood of it going fully through is low. The bullet is blocking most of the blood flow. Any more pressure on the entrance than needed could dislodge it and cause you to bleed out. You need to fall on your back, so gravity works in your favor. The bullet's likely only a few inches in so the likelihood of your survival given Hotch and I take down this UnSub are also in your favor."

Her hallucinations faded away and then she was falling, she hit the floor hard on her back, her hands over her forming wound. It wasn't as deep as it could've been. Her body armor saved her but if Dowd knew that he'd keep shooting. She remained oddly calm for someone who had been shot. It wasn’t the first time by the way.

Spencer's immediate instinct was to help her, but Dowd shouted, "DON'T MOVE!"

"You shot her!" Spencer shouted.

“So she’ll die. Did he signal you? Did you signal her?" He was talking about Hotch as he held the rifle to Zoe's head.

"No..." Zoe said, her voice still strong for someone who was shot, "He didn't signal anything to me. To be honest, I barely take orders from him. I only take orders from my dad. I don't even listen to him. I'm usually the smartest person in the room. I guess, I met my match." She feigned faintness and lowered herself to lie flat and she made apologetic eye contact with Hotch and then Spencer.

"ANYONE ELSE WANT TO PLAY HERO!" He roared, clearly enjoying the fake defeat she gave him.

Spencer tried to stop the bleeding, but Zoe kept pushing his hands away and she kept muttering in a softer voice than usual, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Lo lamento. Lo siento mucho."

—————————————————————————————————-

"Time's up! Ready teams for assault." Weigart shouted now that there was another gunshot.

—————————————————————————————————

"Can I ask you a favor?" Hotch asked.

"You can ask." Dowd said.

"I figure the chances of my getting out of here alive are pretty slim." Hotch said, "Even more so that Noble's daughter is dying."

"So?"

"You already shot the rebel who can’t listen to a word I say. I want to kick the snot out of this kid." Zoe said something in Aztec in protest but groaned when she tried to get her and was ignored. "He's made my life miserable for two lousy years."

"Go ahead. Knock yourself out."

Hotch pushed Spencer down, aggressively.

Hotch kicked Spencer over and over which Zoe found to be more painful than the gunshot wound.  Each sound that came from Spencer made her flinch more than being shot by the bullet.

“How smart are you now, smart guy? It's front sight!” Another kick to the gut. “Trigger press!” Another kick. “Follow through! It's not that hard! A dalmatian could do it!” Spencer grasped Hotch’s leg to seemingly stop him from kicking him. “Let go. Let go!”

Spencer coughed and moaned in pain, turning away from them and to the desk, next to Zoe.

Zoe looked at Spencer, muttering something in Spanish though she had been doing that sporadically.

"Feel better?" Dowd asked.

"I think he got the message." Hotch said.

Dowd smirked and looked at Spencer’s near-fetal position as he turned his poor, aching body to Zoe who seemed to be in a delirious state from blood loss already and was muttering in Spanish. Then his eyes drifted to an empty ankle holster on Hotch's ankle and his smirk fell at once.

"What's that?" He demanded, Hotch looked back up at him and then Dowd pointed the rifle at Hotch and Spencer pulled Hotch's gun out and shot Dowd square in the head.

Once Dowd was down, he went to Zoe's side as Hotch went to calm down the police before they came in guns a-blazing.

Zoe lifted her knee up and reached for her boot.

"What-what are you doing?" Spencer asked, softly.

Zoe pulled something out of her boot, a small knife and she used it to cut Spencer's zip-ties.

Alexander came bolting in, screaming, "ANGEL!" Before finding her bleeding on the ground as Spencer and a nurse used a gauze to fill in the wound until they could get her the proper medical assistance. “OH MY GOD!”

"Move! Move!" Alexander pleaded, actually smacking his bleeding out daughter's hands away from the wound to check to see if it had hit anything vital which made her shout Spanish at him, having a flashback which he had dealt with for years now.

“No... stop! Sweetheart! Angel! Stop cursing!” He shouted as she continued to swear in Spanish at her.

She finally stopped and fell back on her back and grabbed at her jacket.

Alexander helped take off her jacket and shouted, "WHAT'S THE BLOODY POINT OF BEING IN A HOSPITAL IF NO ONE'S MAKIGN SURE MY DAUGHTER DOESN'T DIE FROM HER OWN STUBBORNNESS!"

A fellow nurse lifted Zoe's moon printed shirt, but no skin showed. Just black fabric with a black zipper, wet with blood but the back of the bullet was clearly poke out of it, meaning it wasn't very deep in her stomach.

"What's this?" Spencer asked.

"Body armor..." Zoe grunted out. "Customized body armor. Light. Durable. Level three polyethylene and steel alloy..."

"That's my girl." He smiled affectionately at her before screaming for a doctor to do something useful for once.

"Can I make one request? Don't let Landman perform the surgery, either that or I insist on being awake to criticize him..."

Zoe’s head lolled to the side, and she felt Spencer place a hand on her cheek, her half-lid eyes spotted a bittersweet smile on his lips.

—————————————————————————————————-

Shakespeare wrote, "Nothing is so common as the wish to be remarkable."

Spencer watched as they wheeled Dowd’s body through the hall due to the open door of Zoe’s hospital room after the emergency bullet removal surgery which was actually fairly quick since Zoe was wearing bullet resistant clothing with a titanium and Kevlar alloy, only going in a couple inches, barely making it through her muscles.

Hotch came in.

“How’s she doing?”

“Really well apparently. Despite insisting to be awake during the surgery to criticize Landman’s work.” Spencer said and Hotch managed a smile, not expecting anything less of Zoe.

“You alright?”

Spencer nodded, “Probably better than you’ll be when she wakes up or when her dad finds out what you said.”

“Yeah,” Hotch chuckled, “Nice shot.”

“I was aiming for his leg.” Spencer joked.

“Well, I wouldn't have kept kicking you, I was afraid you didn't get my plan.” Hotch explained, feeling bad.

“I got your plan the minute you moved the hostages out of my line of fire.” Spencer confirmed, “Pretty sure, Zoe here got your plan at once.”

“Well, I hope I didn't hurt you too badly.”

“Hotch, I was a twelve-year-old child prodigy in a Las Vegas public high school. You kick like a nine-year-old girl.” Spencer teased. He smiled and tried to hand Hotch his gun back.

“Nah. Keep it. As far as I'm concerned, you've passed your qualification.” Hotch said.

“You’re not mad that Zoe tried to shoot him and got herself shot?” Spencer asked.

“She’s taken a life before. More than anyone her age should. You haven’t. She was trying to protect you. It’s not hard to deduce that she’ll never fail to do that. I just hoped the shot wouldn’t be fatal. But she’s a survivor, if I ever met one."

—————————————————————————————————-

Zoe awoke to see a relieved-looking Spencer and she gave him a sleepy smile.

“Hey, hotshot.” He teased.

“Hey, Spence.” She hummed, sleepily.

“The doctors said you’d be fine. Your dad said you were too reckless for you own good and your cousin said you were idiotic but…”

"She's not here, is she?"

"No. But she called your dad a bunch of times and then screamed at him so loudly, it was like she was on speaker phone." Spencer said. "And then some Scottish woman was on the phone a few minutes later, screaming just as loudly."

"My aunt Isobel." She said, "Why are you here?"

“I wanted to thank you.”

“For what? I was the one too stupid to realize what Hotch was trying to hint at.” She played dumb.

He shook his head. “No, you weren’t. You got it. You took that risk so I wouldn’t have to make that shot. You were trying to spare me from killing him.”

“Being the daughter of two FBI agents, I’m not sure I’ve ever been innocent. But you are. You still are. I took my first kill when I was thirteen. It was self-defense. And it was my crazy uncle. I know it’s inevitable with this job but I was just trying to keep you like that for as long as I could. But it changes you."

“I think I like Zoe on painkillers. She’s much less sarcastic.” He said, stroking her hair, absent-mindedly.

“No, I’m rather tolerant of the psychological effects of painkillers.” She drawled, "And I hate them."

Alexander came in, "Angel, your cousin wants to talk to you." It was clear he was tired at being screamed at in languages he didn't speak.

Zoe took the phone her father was shoving into her face. "Hey, Maze."

Spencer smiled at Zoe and went to leave. Outside, he ran into Morgan who was concerned over Spencer's wellbeing.

"Reid, you all right?" He asked and Spencer just unpocketed the whistle Morgan had given him and tossed it to Morgan. Morgan chuckled and said, "Touché, kid."

—————————————————————————————————-

Zoe was deemed well enough to fly back home; she slept in the chair next to Spencer as he watched her carefully as her chest came up and down. Gideon walked up to them, and Spencer cleared his throat, acting as if he hadn't been watching Zoe nap.

"How you doing?"

"You and Zoe were right." Spencer said, "You don't need a gun to kill somebody."

Gideon looked down at Zoe and subconsciously adjusted the blanket Alexander had put on her and that Spencer had kept trying to keep on her as she kept moving in her sleep and then Gideon sat in the seat across

Gideon sat in the seat across from Spencer, "No, you don't."

"But it helps." Spencer finished.

"Yes... It does."

"I... I know I should feel bad about what happened. I mean, I killed a man. You know, I should feel something. But I don't." Spencer confessed, worried.

“Zoe said the same thing first time she took a life.” Gideon said, recalling Zoe’s state when she was thirteen. Granted that was to protect her sister. “Not knowing what you feel, that's not the same as not feeling anything. This is gonna hit ya, and when it does, there's only three facts you need to know. You did what you had to do, and a lot of good people are alive because of what you did."

"What's the third?" Spencer asked.

"I'm proud of you."

—————————————————————————————————-

Translations:

“Lo lamento. Lo siento mucho.” —  Spanish —“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Notes: Empedocles was a Greek pre-Socratic philosopher, an eccentric genius for his time as he discovered that light travels at a speed; the Earth is a sphere; centrifugal force, and air is a substance, not an absence of a substance (his main belief was that matter was composed of four elements: fire, air, water, and Earth); an (admittedly very crude) theory of evolution, and the Italian school of medicine. However, by eccentric you could also mean, straight-up crazy as Empedocles believed he was a god (while I’m not sure what kind of god, but one report on cracked.com describes it as “literal thunderbolts-from-the -sky and immortality sense) and to prove his immortality, he jumped into the at the time dormant volcano called Mount Etna. Obviously, he didn’t survive. At least, this is allegedly what happened as records don’t really go that far back but there could also be other reasons he allegedly did this, another version of the story is that Empedocles jumped into the volcano to prove his immortality to his disciples, believing that he would be reborn as a god after being consumed by the flames (even though volcanoes don’t have flames, they have lava and magma).

I hope this wasn’t too bad. I always intended for Zoe to be shot. It demonstrates her loyalty and need to protect people, especially Spencer but also Spencer killing Dowd demonstrates that he feels the same kind of protectiveness over Zoe.

*(Edited/Added) Zoe's hallucinations are supposed to be akin to BBC Sherlock Holmes' to some extent. One part because of her extraordinary brain, part due to her various mental illnesses (see blow), part of her trauma and the coping mechanisms she formed during her trauma, and part of her guilt.

(Now, don’t get me wrong, I did my research via short Google searches, and the first info I see without clicking usually. Hallucinations are not a typical symptom of ADHD but a possible side effect of the stimulant drugs used to treat ADHD in children. According to the AI overview, "According to the FDA, between one and two out of every 100 children who take ADHD drugs for a year may experience a drug-related psychotic event, which can include hallucinations. Common hallucinations include seeing insects, snakes, or worms, or feeling bugs or worms crawling on the skin.” Which gross!! I have never had that. I mean, I used to be convinced that bugs would be digging into my skin but I think that was more me not understanding what itching was and with ADHD especially with children, senses can be enhanced compared to the neurotypical’s which is called hypersensitivity. And I once saw a giant black and gray snake at my dad’s mom’s place in the middle of the woods after I walked out of the most likely unlocked cabin that strangers frequently drove past and according to my mom’s side of the family (so a bit bias) it could’ve been poisonous. But that doesn't matter)

According to AI overview, Hallucinations are not typically a symptom of cyclothymic disorder, also known as cyclothymia, during hypomania episodes. Hypomania is a "high" that can range from mild to severe, but it doesn't include psychotic features like hallucinations or delusions. However, hallucinations can occur during manic episodes of cyclothymia.

Now, Zoe is frequently being described as traumatized, this is true and she does have Complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which can cause visual and auditory hallucinations, I’m getting mixed results on whether it’s always related to the trauma you experienced or sometimes not. (And most of them are talking about PTSD because I think C-PTSD either isn’t as researched or it’s PTSD but more–I’m sorry if that offends someone, what I mean is it's PTSD but for more events.)

Now, Zoe has undiagnosed high-functioning borderline personality disorder due to her trauma and this is probably the disorder I’m most anxious to write because this is described as one of the most painful disorders to live with and I have no idea what that’s like. Research says that 26 to 54% of people with BPD (I’m not sure if that includes high-functioning or not) experience hallucinations and can be present for long periods of time.

Now, in Zoe’s eight months, she was frequently being drugged with something stronger than morphine, I won’t give spoilers just yet unless I accidentally already have I just don’t remember, which is possible, but because of that and this fact, she was nearly always… blindfolded, not quite the right word but her vision was nearly always obscured so she had to rely on her other senses, luckily Maze had been training her with like ninja-like lessons since she was like four or however young you think you could train a super genius child already traumatized from her mother’s torture and death before she was even born because she’s a super genius.

I feel like hallucinations and delusions are fueled by personality traits and past trauma or past in general or… I don’t know quite how to say it. My idea is that Zoe’s hallucinations are linked to her instincts which are a very big part of her. She trusts her instincts more than she trusts her impulses, but I’m not quite sure how to categorize that or I’m just realizing what instincts are exactly. So, Zoe’s hallucinations happen in situations of great stress like being shot and she herself has developed a mind palace of sorts so she can assess the situation, but also they are linked to her instincts which are quite a bit above an average FBI agent’s instincts and her hallucinations can act as warnings to her.

I hope this makes some sense, I was trying to show that I have put a lot of thought into this and I tried looking up why Sherlock Holmes has hallucinations or how he can see things, maybe it’s part of his mental illness, or drug problem, or just the Mind Palace but I can’t find any answers to my direct question.

[mylocalskill]

The Future of IT Skills: Riding the Wave of Emerging Technologies in Hiring

Hey tech enthusiasts! Buckle up because we're about to embark on a thrilling ride into the future of IT skills. In the ever-evolving landscape of technology, staying ahead means not just keeping up with the trends but anticipating the wave of emerging technologies that are shaping the hiring game. Join us as we explore the tech horizon and discover the skills that will make you the MVP in the IT staffing services scene.

Embracing the Power of Big Data and Analytics

First up on our journey is the dynamic duo: Big Data and Analytics. As businesses drown in a sea of data, the ability to not only stay afloat but also navigate through the waves is a skill in high demand. IT staffing services are on the lookout for individuals who can wield the power of data, turning raw information into actionable insights.

Imagine being the Sherlock Holmes of the digital world, deciphering patterns, predicting trends, and uncovering hidden gems within massive datasets. Big Data and Analytics are no longer just buzzwords; they're the keys to unlocking a treasure trove of opportunities in the job market.

The Unsung Hero of the Digital Frontier

In a world where digital threats lurk in the shadows, cybersecurity emerges as the unsung hero safeguarding the digital frontier. With each passing day, the importance of cybersecurity skills is magnified, making it a non-negotiable asset for any IT professional.

IT staffing services are on a mission to find the guardians of digital realms—those who can build impenetrable fortresses against cyber threats. From ethical hacking to crafting ironclad defense systems, the demand for cybersecurity experts is soaring higher than ever. If you've got the skills to ward off the digital boogeymen, you're set to be a sought-after hero in the IT staffing services saga.

AI and Machine Learning

Ever wished you had a magical assistant to predict your next move? Well, in the world of IT skills, Artificial Intelligence (AI) and Machine Learning (ML) are the wizards behind the curtain making that dream a reality. These technologies are not just futuristic fantasies; they are the driving force behind the next generation of IT innovation.

IT staffing services are on the lookout for individuals who can speak the language of algorithms, teach machines to learn, and create AI-powered solutions that redefine the way we live and work. It's not just about coding; it's about being the maestro orchestrating the symphony of data and intelligence.

Blockchain

If you've been hearing whispers about blockchain, it's time to turn up the volume. Blockchain is more than just the technology behind cryptocurrencies; it's a game-changer in the world of IT skills. IT staffing services are eyeing individuals who can unlock the potential of decentralized, transparent, and tamper-proof systems.

Think of blockchain as the digital notary, ensuring the authenticity and integrity of digital transactions. It's about creating a secure and trustworthy environment in the vast digital landscape. Those who can harness the power of blockchain are set to carve their names in the annals of IT greatness.

Conclusion

As we conclude our journey into the future of IT skills, it's clear that the landscape is evolving, and the skills in demand are shifting. From data-driven wizards to cybersecurity heroes, AI maestros, blockchain trailblazers, and DevOps conductors, the opportunities are as diverse as the tech itself. So, fellow tech enthusiasts, seize the day! Equip yourself with these emerging skills, and you'll find yourself not just riding the wave of change but surfing it with style.  

[teachingmycattoread]

Things We've Yelled About This Episode #3.14

The Hound of the Baskervilles, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (any page references are to the Reader's Digest edition, which is the only physical copy we have in the house)

Does the dog die (website)

Scooby Doo

The Hound of the Baskervilles wikipedia article

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1983)

Basil Rathbone (imdb)

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1939)

Doctor Who (1963-1989, 2005-?)

Stranger Things (2016-?)

"Dr Mortimer looked strangely at us for an instant, and his voice sank almost to a whisper as he answered:

'Mr Holmes, they were the footprints of a gigantic hound!'" p. 153, The Hound of the Baskervilles

Looking into the camera like you're on The Office (meme)

The Locked Tomb series, Tamsyn Muir

Sherlock (2010-2017)

Sherlock is Garbage and Here's Why, hbomberguy (youtube)

Moon's haunted (meme)

"One of Sherlock Holmes’s defects—if, indeed, one may call it a defect—was that he was exceedingly loath to communicate his full plans to any other person until the instant of their fulfilment. Partly it came no doubt from his own masterful nature, which loved to dominate and surprise those who were around him. Partly also from his professional caution, which urged him never to take any chances. The result, however, was very trying for those who were acting as his agents and assistants. " p. 273, The Hound of the Baskervilles

Conan Doyle's belief in fairies (wiki)

Grimspound, Dartmoor (wiki)

Beowulf (our episode here)

Yeth-hound (wiki)

Buckfastleigh (wiki)

Bond Boys/Girls (wiki)

Piers Morgan

"I would have got away with it too, if it weren't for you meddling kids" (wiki)

a surprise tool that will help us later (meme)

Spiritualism (wiki)

Harry Houdini is an actual wizard (this post, wiki)

A Study in Scarlet, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (our episode here)

Miss Marple; Agatha Christie

Miss Marple parlour scene (this trope)

Found footage (wiki)

Dracula, Bram Stoker (our episodes here and here)

As far as I can tell, the G. K. Chesterton Afterword for the Reader's Digest edition of A Study in Scarlet and The Hound of the Baskervilles is an amalgamation of the essay "A Defence of Detective Stories" from his book The Defendant, and an essay simply called "Sherlock Holmes" that can be found in G. K. Chesterton: An Anthology, ed. D. B. Wyndham Lewis.

Steven Moffat (imdb)

Mark Gatiss (imdb)

Jeremy Brett (imdb)

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1988)

Ian Richardson (imdb)

Donald Churchill (imdb)

Brian Blessed (imdb)

The Hound of the Baskervilles (1981) (youtube)

Elementary (2012-2019)

Elementary Season 2 Episode 18, "The Hound of the Cancer Cells"; Season 4 Episode 16, "Hounded"

Buzzfeed Unsolved (youtube)

Hamlet, William Shakespeare (our episode here)

Benoit Blanc; Knives Out (2019), The Glass Onion (2022)

Eugenics (wiki)

Phrenology (wiki)

" 'It is not my intention to be fulsome, but I confess that I covet your skull.' " p. 142, The Hound of the Baskervilles

Knives Out (2019)

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio,

Than are dreamt of in your philosophy." Hamlet, William Shakespeare; Act I Scene 5

Benny Hill theme tune (youtube)

Benoit Blanc in the no-smoking zone (youtube)

Rian Johnson (imdb)

Leverage (2008-2012)

This moment from Leverage Season 5 Episode 10, "The Frame Up Job"

" 'Funny weather we're having, isn't it?' he said, lamely.

'Is it?' said Crowley. 'I honestly hadn't noticed.' And he reversed back down the country lane in his burning car.'

'That's probably because your car is on fire," said R. P. Tyler, sharply." p.338, Good Omens, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (2006 paperback)

Good Omens, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett (our episode here)

Gideon the Ninth, Tamsyn Muir (our episode here)

Cat Rating: 7/10

What Else Are We Reading?

The Locked Tomb series, Tamsyn Muir

Wheel of Time (2021-?)

Bernadette Banner on Wheel of Time (youtube)

Anno Dracula, Kim Newman (our episode here)

Next Time on Teaching My Cat To Read

Q&A

[teaspoonnebula]

Oh man my story is not this good but I have a similar one.

Important context:

I was living close to Newcastle, England. My peers all had very strong Geordie accents.

I did not. In a series of events which form their own amusing anecdote, my parents accidentally sent me to elocution lessons thinking they were drama/acting lessons, and as a result I spoke like a BBC newsreader from the 1950s.

When I was nine or ten, my school made everyone go through a reading age test. A teaching assistant would take you off into a separate room where you had to read down a list of words of increasing difficulty. How far you got determined your reading age.

When I'd been reading the list for a minute or so, the bell went for lunchtime. The teaching assistant looks at the bell, looks at at this weird child who has been pronouncing every word on the list in a way she finds utterly bizarre. She sighs and says that she thinks we'll leave it there.

I waltz off happy that I've impressed her with my reading skills.

Then a few weeks later the results come back. I've been put down as being terribly behind in my reading, and I am going to have to go to special education classes to catch up. I remember crying and crying, because being a "good reader" was such a strong part of my identity, and I felt like a terrible injustice had been committed.

I was told to bring along a reading book from the school library, and so I decided to bring the thickest, most intimidating book I could find. Turned out it was 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.

So: I get taken off into a room, and there's this sweet soft-spoken special education teacher who talks to me so kindly, and smiles, and says could I get out my reading book and read to me?

And I do. In the most theatrical, overwrought way possible, enunciating every phoneme with perfect clarity. I read those first couple of sentences like I am Laurence Olivier, like I am on stage at the Globe, like I am the most Old School of British Actorrrrrs.

The year 1866 was signalised by a remarkable incident, a mysterious and puzzling phenomenon, which doubtless no one has yet forgotten. Not to mention rumours which agitated the maritime population and excited the public mind, even in the interior of continents, seafaring men were particularly excited. Merchants, common sailors, captains of vessels, skippers, both of Europe and America, naval officers of all countries, and the Governments of several states on the two continents, were deeply interested in the matter.

The woman stops me. She says that is very good. And she lets me go back to class. I never hear from her again.

I love telling this story because in one sense it ignited in me a real passion for 19th century literature, it made me start reading Jules Verne, and HG Wells, and Sherlock Holmes. The sad thing though, is that it created an insecurity in me and I stopped reading children's books at that point, until I was able to enjoy them again as an adult.