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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Sherlock AU
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Published:
2016-01-09
Words:
1,358
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1/1
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Kakashi Hatake, Consulting Detective

Summary:

Iruka is looking for a new flatmate. He's introduced to a consulting detective with acute observational skills and an unhealthy obsession with microwaves.

Notes:

This is really just a drabble. I'm tempted to write an actual case fic in this verse at some point, but if that does happen it probably won't be for a while.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Iruka followed Tenzou through the corridors of the forensics department, glancing curiously through the open doorways. He’d visited Tenzou at work once before, but that had been in the open plan office where the homicide detectives were based, and this was a whole different world, full of machinery and technical equipment that Iruka couldn’t begin to guess the function of.

“Does Kakashi work in forensics?”

“No,” Tenzou said. “He doesn’t technically work for us at all. He’s what you might call freelance. Helps us out from time to time.”

They stopped in front of a door, and Tenzou paused.

“I know I said this when I first mentioned him, but Kakashi is a little – strange. Once you get past the general insanity, though, he’s a decent guy.”

Iruka smiled. “I’m sure he can’t be worth all these warnings. You make him sound like some kind of psychopath.”

Tenzou gave him an unfathomable look, and Iruka swore he muttered high functioning sociopath before he opened the door.

The room they entered was definitely a lab, but that was as much as Iruka could discern. There was only one person inside: a man with unruly hair and a surgical mask, who was currently crouching behind a workbench and peeking over the top at a microwave on the opposite counter. Something inside the microwave was flashing intermittently and making a distressing noise.

“You might want to join me over here,” the man suggested. “Just in case.”

Good God, Iruka thought. Tenzou wants me to move in with a psychopath.

Before either of them could move, the microwave went dark and the timer stopped counting down. Iruka tensed in case an explosion was imminent, but nothing happened.

The man behind the workbench stood up, regarded the microwave for a moment more, and then sighed.

“That wasn’t anywhere near as interesting as I’d hoped.”

“Kakashi,” Tenzou said in a slow, dangerous tone. “What’s in there?”

Kakashi crossed the room and pressed the button to open the microwave door. No cloud of smoke emerged, which seemed to disappoint him further.

“Another microwave,” he said distractedly, poking the things inside. Iruka cautiously stepped closer and saw some metallic parts that could conceivably once have existed inside a microwave.

“You were – microwaving a microwave?” Tenzou threw up his hands. “Why? What possible reason could you have? That’s definitely not related to the case!”

“I was curious. I was up all last night wondering about it.”

“Then why didn’t you experiment with it last night in your own damn flat?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Anything could have happened! What if it had exploded?”

Tenzou breathed in a long, measured inhale, and then let it out very slowly.

Kakashi gave the microwave parts one last poke before glancing up, his eyes locking on Iruka and giving him a quick once over before turning back to the microwave and removing the contents.

“This must be my potential new flatmate.”

Iruka glanced at Tenzou, whose eyes were closed, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he silently mouthed his way from one to ten. With no support from that quarter, Iruka introduced himself.

“Yes, I’m Iruka Umino. I’m –”

“A teacher, primary school. You started fairly recently and enjoy the work but wish you were paid more. Today was a particularly stressful day, although I assume art class is always quite chaotic, and you’re now wishing you’d gone straight home – or to the friend’s house where you’re currently staying on a rather uncomfortable sofa.”

Iruka stared at him for a moment, and then turned to Tenzou.

“I see you’ve told him about me.”

Kakashi looked up from the microwave and although Iruka couldn’t be sure, he might have been pouting.

“No, I deduced it. That’s what I do. I’m a consulting detective.”

“I told him you were a teacher,” Tenzou supplied. “And that you were staying with a friend.”

Kakashi folded his arms sulkily. “I could have figured that out even if you hadn’t told me.”

Iruka’s lip twitched up. He couldn’t help it. The man was a head trip, that was for sure, but he was also completely fascinating.

“How did you know about art class?” Iruka asked. “And the sofa?”

Kakashi looked placated by the question and started fiddling with the microwave again, closing it now that it was empty and turning it on, watching with interest.

“You have flecks of paint on your shirt – definitely the sign of a new teacher who hasn’t yet learnt how to control a class. Must be young kids because by the time they start high school they’ve mostly grown out of that sort of thing. Teachers in general are badly paid but you must be especially since you’re looking for a flatmate and therefore can’t afford to live alone. As for the discomfort, you’ve rubbed your neck twice since you entered the room. You’ve slept on it wrong.”

“And why do you think I’m wishing I’d gone straight home instead of coming to see you?”

Kakashi paused. “That’s the normal reaction of people who meet me for the first time.”

He opened the microwave and picked up a nearby CD, which Tenzou neatly confiscated on its march towards death.

Iruka considered his options. He’d been staying with Mizuki for almost a week now, and not only was the couch uncomfortable but Iruka was fast discovering that living with a colleague meant you got sick of the sight of each other fairly quickly. If he wanted to leave before they reached the stage of sticking passive-aggressive notes on the fridge, he couldn't afford to be fussy with potential flatmates.

“Two questions,” Iruka said. “Are you going to murder me in my sleep and use parts of my body for your experiments?”

“Only if you want me to,” Kakashi said mildly, his head halfway inside the microwave.

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that,” Tenzou said.

“What’s the second question?”

“What happened to the microwave?”

Kakashi gave him the first real look he’d directed at Iruka since he’d entered the room. There was a scar bisecting his left eye, and Iruka’s hand half rose towards his own facial scar before he checked himself. Kakashi’s sharp gaze caught the movement.

“I think it’s broken,” Kakashi said. “I was going to test it with the CD, but Tenzou here is dedicated to preventing the advancement of science at every turn.”

“You’re not a scientist,” Tenzou said drily. “Stop putting things in microwaves. Stop bringing microwaves into the lab. I bring you here to solve cases, not blow things up.”

“That was one time,” Kakashi whined. “And I solved your case two hours ago. The stepmother did it.”

Tenzou rounded on him, caught between exasperated and furious. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I was busy conducting important research.”

Tenzou glared at the microwave. “The experiment is over. You’re coming with me and explaining whatever you’ve figured out on our way to make the arrest.”

“Can’t I just –”

“No!”

Kakashi sighed and shoved his hands in his pockets. He looked at Iruka.

“Right age, right questions, easy on the eye,” he murmured. “You’ll do.”

Iruka felt his face heat. “Wait, what was that last one?”

Kakashi ignored him. “I’ll expect you to move in tomorrow. Rent is due on the first of each month but the most you can get away with is three months and two weeks late. I have a dog, but he’ll probably tolerate you. Oh, and can you pick up a new microwave on your way?”

“No,” Iruka said, deciding he’d misheard the last comment. “And once I move in, you’re not going to do any experiments in the kitchen.”

“Maa, you drive a hard bargain, but I’m sure I can relocate to another room.” He patted Iruka on the shoulder as he passed. “The address is 221B Baker Street. I look forward to seeing how long you last.”

He left the room, and Iruka watched him, wondering what he’d got himself into. Kakashi wasn’t like anyone he’d ever met before, but as odd as he seemed, there was something about him that drew Iruka in.

“Get used to dramatic exits,” Tenzou advised.

Notes:

Of course, the real problem with writing this verse would be trying to fit Kakashi's hair under a deerstalker.

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