Frozen / Ice

Author: MonkeyBard
Rating: PG-13 language
Summary: Lestrade goes back down the fox hole.
Date: 12 December 2011
Warnings: Crack!Fic and Lestrade whumpage.
Prompt: How about "ice" and "frozen"?
A/N: Thanks to morganstuart for the perfect prompt to send my wee, twisted brain back to a cracky little universe that I love. I doubt this is anything you were expecting, but you might take some little consolation in knowing that it isn't anything I was expecting either. ;-)
A/N2: Most excellent and swift beta by methylviolet10b! Many thanks!
A/N3: No lutefisk curry was involved in the writing of this fic.


How in the name of Satan's cock had he let himself end up on this frozen wasteland of a world again?

Cold ate into him as he led the way between buildings. Oracle followed close behind, glowing with the latest stolen data. Another tool in their fight against The Conundrum. This time, it had to be enough.

His communicator crackled with static, preceding a quietly intense female voice. "Silverfox, this is Sable One. What's your status?"

"Sable One, Silverfox. Exiting sector Q-19. Nearing egress point."

"Sensors indicate troop movement outside the complex. Watch your backs and keep your heads down."

"Understood. Silverfox out."

Reaching the building's corner, he scanned the space beyond it. Clear. At least until the perimeter. Just as Sable One had warned him. He looked at Oracle. "You heard her. Head down. Stay close."

Oracle nodded, brain too full of data to allow him speech. Silverfox couldn't imagine having so much in his head that it crowded out normal functions. He supposed he should be glad only Oracle's voice was offline until Doc downloaded his cache. Anything more vital would've been fucking problematic.

"Let's go." They dashed for the perimeter, diving between boulders before anyone spotted them. Good. Just a couple of clicks to the rendezvous point, and they'd be golden.

That was when it all went balls-up.


Oracle's eyes, always eerily pale and penetrating, went wide. Silverfox spun too late. Pain lanced through his head and he fell...

"Lestrade? Lestrade?" Doc's urgent tone dragged him towards consciousness. "Damn it! Lestrade!"

Warm hands on his cheeks finally roused him enough to open his eyes. A familiar face wavered into view. "D-Doc! Oracle's s-s-secured--" His head throbbed and his vision was blurred. He was so cold, his lips had trouble forming words. But he didn't let it put him off his mission. "Tell S-S-Sable One… clear t-t-to l-l-launch!"

"He's cold as ice. Sherlock, your coat-"

Warm air fell like a pillow within the coat that suddenly covered him. Lestrade shivered and his extremities began burning as blood and feeling alike rushed in. Bright light seared each of his eyes.

"Ambulance is on its way," said Oracle tightly.

Ambulance? What? Lestrade's thoughts were so muddled. Oracle speaking? Conundrum. What the hell?

Doc spoke again. Reassuring. Confident. "You'll be all right. You took a helluva knock to your head. You've got concussion, but there's very little blood. Do you remember what happened?"

"Who is Sable One?"

John's worried look and Sherlock's curious tone combined to bring Lestrade back to reality.

Lestrade sighed through a violent shiver. Damned dream world. Sherlock would pester him mercilessly until he had his answer. "B-b-b-ugger."

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