Pic based off of the story below, by Kanaria, on the Sherlock fanclub thread.
Kanaria wrote:"I’m a duck, John."
Of all the ways Sherlock Holmes could have returned from the dead, this was definitely not even on the list.
John glanced worriedly at the scarved duck standing on the table, tongue flicking nervously at his lips. Was this reality, or had the stress of these past three years finally snapped the ex-military doctor? “Um," John finally said, looking at the duck who claimed to be Sherlock. “How do I know you are real?"
"Oh, honestly John," The voice came out sounding like Sherlock, though a bit quacky, “How on earth can I prove something like that? You’ll blame all of my deductions about you as stuff you already know, and if I tell you something you do not know, how would you prove it then?"
"Well, you definitely talk like Sherlock…" Mused John, frowning at the fowl. The duck nodded at him. “By the way, Lestrade is coming up the stairs." The bird informed him. And sure enough, a few seconds later, the silvery DI was rapping at the study door. “Come in." John called, not taking his eyes off of the duck.
"John," Lestrade said as he came into the room. “Why is there a duck sitting on the table? And why does he have Sherlock’s scarf?" “It’s because I am Sherlock." The duck replied, causing Lestrade to jump back.
"HOLY S***," Swore Lestrade loudly. “You’ve got a bloody talking duck sitting on the table." He took a moment to compose himself, passing a hand over his face. “I’m done," He said finally. “That’s it, I’m so done." Lestrade turned to go, but stopped as John said, “You and me both."
Lestrade turned to face John, realizing he could see it too. Together they looked to the duck, faces pale.
"As I said, I am Sherlock Holmes."
The duck was smirking.
*The End!*
