London to Edinburgh I"Yes!" Exclaimed the consulting detective, jumping over the coffee table, clutching the letter tightly.
"Another case?" called John from the kitchen.
"Oh no John, this isn't just another case." Sherlock grinned, waving the letter in his flatmates face. "This is an exceptional case."
Deciding to indulge his curiosity, John abandoned his attempt to make tea and turned to face the taller man who was now re-reading his letter. "And what makes this case so much more interesting than the others?"
"It's in Scotland. Edinburgh to be precise."
John shifted his weight and tried to look uninterested. "Oh. Has someone been murdered?"
Sherlock took no notice of this as he was now twirling around the kitchen explaining that the crown from Edinburgh castle had been stolen then replaced a few days later then stolen again. John listened patiently, all the while hoping Sherlock would not pay any attention to him. If Sherlock laid his eyes on him he would calculate everything in a nanosecond.
Dates and Debates2:30Dates and Debates3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
You and Molly
What are you talking about?
Didn't you take her out for coffee yesterday evening?
I don't even want know how you know that.
Simple - she told me.
Oh. I thought you might've deduced it from her perfume or something
What relevance does her perfume have?
I don't know, you're the genius.
I am indeed. But you brought it up.
It was a joke! Sarcasm
Ah - Not very amusing.
Why are you interested in who I take to coffee anyway?
So why bring it up?
My brother however is.
Don't play the fool Lestrade. I know all about you two.
And what do you "know" about us?
That you've been dancing around a romantic relationship for three months and when your wife finally announces that she's leaving you for the librarian you will make it an official arrangement.
I thought you told me she
Kiriban- All's Fair..."You arrogant bastard!"Kiriban- All's Fair...4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"You self-centered, conceited, immature, ungrateful, demea-"
"If that's your best comeback, you shouldn't be allowed the privilege of speech!"
"You're one to talk! The best thing you could come up with is bastard?"
John Watson stood in the doorway to the kitchen, shaking violently in a rather unsuccessful attempt to quit laughing.
"Honestly, for having the intellect you do, I expect more from you, petit frère."
"Saying it in French does not make it better."
"Yes it does."
"It does not!"
"You're being childish."
"You're the one who came, from halfway across London and a rather important state meeting, just to berate me for my attitude."
"How is that childish?"
"It's you I You " Sherlock struggled for words.
Mycroft grinned, the self-satisfied smile of one who has sufficiently rendered his opponent speechless. Sherlock wanted to, for lack of a more scientific term, wipe the look off his brothers face. This whole conversation bega
Blame The BoozeLestrade had invited us to a small pub for a night out to 'relieve the stress' as he put it with a few other men from the yard. I was about to object but John had cut in and said that we were going because he needed a night off and, probably to annoy me further, Lestrade had invited Mycroft as well. So now I sat on a barstool watching everyone else get drunk and I had made a curious discovery. Everyone acted in a different way when they were drunk, sometimes the complete opposite to their normal personalities. Lestrade was sat at a table next to Sally and I had categorised them as the 'sad drunks'.Blame The Booze4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I don't deserve this job!" wailed Lestrade, his head in his folded arms with a hand holding onto a half drunk pint. "Give it to Sherlock, he practically does it anyways!"
"If you do that he'll be my boss and I'll have to listen to more of his insults!" cried Sally, before taking another large sip of her red wine. "Last time he said that I had a moustache. A moustache! I do not have a mousta
Who do you think you are?The day had gone better than expected for Lestrade. Sherlock had been on one of his better days and he had actually caught-up with the days paperwork. He still had a daunting mountain of other reports still cluttering his desk but he took the small victory and left the yard in high spirits. His evening had gone well also, a quiet night in with takeaway, crap telly, Mycroft massaging the stress out of his shoulders. Life was blissfully simple for Gregory.Who do you think you are?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mood was spoiled when his phone chirped, informing him of an incoming message. There was no caller ID as he didn't have the number saved but he recognised it none the less.
"Greg, what's the matter?" Mycroft asked softly. Greg realised that he was frowning at the offending technology and wiped a hand across his face in an attempt to remove it. Without opening it, Greg deleted the text and all but threw his phone onto the coffee table, staring at it ruefully. Mycroft waited patiently for Greg to answer.
"Karen." Greg said hoarsely.
SH - Fever DreamsWhy was the world so cold?SH - Fever Dreams4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He looked around. Quicksilver eyes cataloguing everything.
Damp walls, mouldy. Sewer or alleyway. If that was the night sky above, the stars had been taken away.
The world completely swathed in shadow.
And the blood.
So much blood.
A purple-haired figure ahead of him.
Standing over a body.
Tawny hair doused in slick red and tired blue eyes that had always had so much intelligence and emotion behind them, now vacant. Hollow.
The phone still held in lifeless fingers, Sherlock's name on the readout.
She turned and looked at him.
Her eyes always had been unnervingly similar to his own.
But her mouth had never been that wide, that cruel. Teeth had never been so . . . threatening.
The question was only in his head, but she answered it anyway.
"Because," she said, in a terribly, sickly calm tone. "He told me it was more fun this way."
That unnatural smile only grew.
He could hear his name being called, somewhere in the distance.
A deceptively unt
Wreak This JournalWhen you have grown accustomed to the general clutter that is practically attached to the younger Holmes, it is natural to assume that the older is also as untidy. Sherlock's flat is a mass of papers, case files, and, during one memorable drugs bust, body parts. I don't know how John can stand it sometimes.Wreak This Journal3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So, when Mycroft finally asked me if I wanted to move in with him I was exited and slightly terrified. I had never seen his home before which is kind of weird when we have been dating for almost a year but I hadn't brought it up, fearing that it could be classified data and that he would have to kill me after telling me. Fortunately I survived and noticed that, as well as the spaciousness of the flat, it was impeccably clean. No sheep's intestines in the freezer, no dead octopuses in the bath, everything was where it should be. That's when I noticed it.
Mycroft is a clean freak.
No, freak is the wrong word. He is obsessed with keeping things in unnatural order. Several times
Shall We Dance?(A/N: Shwatsonlock oneshot starring BBC Sherlock and Watson)Shall We Dance?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John haulled the shopping up the stairs and into the kitchen, avoiding the man who was in deep thought on the couch in the other room. He put the food away, sat in his armchair and pulled out a paper from beside it. He noticed Sherlock whip out his blackberry and type furiously, obviously sending a text to Lestrade telling him how simple the case was and that you only had to look at the suspect's cuffs to know that he was behind all of it, or something to that effect. Sherlock put his phone away after he sent the message and sat up from his laying position on the couch. He glanced over at John who had just realised that he was staring at the man's delacate fingers. John cleared his throat and was about to speak when Sherlock beat him to it.
"Going out with Sarah again tonight?" I shouldn't be surprised, but it seemed quite extraordinary that he could practically read your mind.
"Yes. Is that alright?"
"Where are you taking he
Some Summer"Some summer, eh?"Some Summer4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I mean come on, we've only had like a week of warm weather."
"Stop exaggerating John."
"Oh, so now you're talking to me?"
Blackberry keys started clacking at an inhuman pace.
"Sherlock, how long will this 'silent treatment' last? It's becoming quite childish."
Sherlock continued texting angrily, presumably to Lestrade. He had hardly put the phone down since we entered the flat.
"Come on Sherlock, I've said I'm sorry about a million times!"
"I hope this isn't going to become a habit with you John." Sherlock mumbled, barely lifting his gaze from the mobile.
"Sherlock, it was an accident. It's not as if I did it deliberately just to spite you."
"Tea?" asked the taller of the two as he unfolded himself from his armchair and made his way into the kitchen. John just sighed and fished out his paper while he waited for his flatmate to return, no way was he going to drop this so easily.
As predicted Sherlock entered the living room with two mugs of steaming tea out
Mystrade discusses JohnlockNotMyDivision07: Hello?Mystrade discusses Johnlock3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
NotMyDivision07: Who is this?
UmbrellaLover: Who do you think it is?
UmbrellaLover: Use your head, you're a detective.
NotMyDivision07: Bloody hell, Mycroft?
UmbrellaLover: Not bad.
NotMyDivision07: That'll teach me to go into random chat rooms at work...
UmbrellaLover: I don't mind.
NotMyDivision07: So..umm...how's protecting Queen and country going?
UmbrellaLover: Tedious as ever.
NotMyDivision07: You could be me...having to wrangle Sherlock.
UmbrellaLover: Ahh, yes. How is my dear brother?
NotMyDivision07: A pain in the arse as always...today...he looked positively gleeful about a brutal murder...IN FRONT of the poor man's widow!
UmbrellaLover: You sound surprised.
NotMyDivision07: I really shouldn't be...but I thought at least with John being a good influence on him, he'd know when to dial it back.
UmbrellaLover: I'm assuming my brother is still oblivious to the good doctors feelings...
Everything is Not as it Seems part 2Sherlock climbed the stairs to their flat in silence, leaving John to pay the cabbie and catch up to him. Moriarty was alive. The man he had seen hanged was nothing more than a stand in. A proxy. A fake. The realization was crushing.Everything is Not as it Seems part 23 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Inside the living room Sherlock fell over the back of the sofa, rolling onto the cushions to lay, his long body sprawled across the piece of furniture as if he couldn't be bothered to right himself. John followed him up the stairs and stood over the sofa for a moment, trying to decide whether it would be worth it to ask his flatmate what had just happened. Finally giving in to his curiosity he walked around the sofa and took his place in front of Sherlock.
"Alright, speak." he ordered, arms crossed over his chest.
"Don't feel like it." Sherlock replied gruffly.
John sighed and rolled his eyes but refused to back down. "What happened in there? What did Noel tell you?"
Sherlock returned the sigh with one far heavier and sat up. "He told me that we
Mystrade Fanfiction: Personalized DeductionsEverything started with a murder. To be fair, with Sherlock Holmes it always did. Funny thing though, John mused as he stood at the side of the crime scene, that it was not what actually attracted the attention of the consulting detective. DI Lestrade did. Not for long, but enough to leave John very confused. He looked around, not really taking in all the blood and an image of Sherlock dashing about from the victim's car to the body and back. Instead, he found himself occupied with thoughts about the talk he had with the consulting detective merely five minutes prior.Mystrade Fanfiction: Personalized Deductions2 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Lestrade is wearing a new shirt." Sherlock announced as soon as they neared the barrier of yellow tape.
John followed his friend's gaze and looked at the DI in thoughtful consideration.
"So?" He frowned, glancing from one man to the other. Lestrade, he noticed, was wearing an ordinary white shirt as he always did. "Why does it matter?"
"It does not," Sherlock replied shortly, ducking under the tape and, ignoring Sergeant
Raindrops Warning! I wrote Mystrade again.Raindrops4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
In a town that's cold and gray
We will have a sunny day
Don't you know that I
Belong arm in arm with you
Gregory Lestrade had seen worse days. In fact, if he looked back on his life, counting the ups and downs, the curves and dips, the never ending parade of things that tried his patience and reminded him why life was worth living, this was a relatively minor day. But it was raining.
He supposed it should be ironic that he, a born and bred Londoner, hated the rain. It felt too much like tears running down the back of his neck, reminding him of cold cases and jobs not yet finished. Tears cried by those who would never have answers.
Karen was leaving him. He'd known for a while, the way her perfume lingered on nights he'd be working late, the rowdy friends calling for clubbing, her insistence that he worked too much. Fifteen years of marriage, and suddenly she decided he wasn't worth the wait. Wasn't worth the hassle. The divo
Lestrade and Laryngitis"So, when is the divorce final?" Sherlock asked, one eyebrow raised.Lestrade and Laryngitis3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Greg Lestrade just sighed, resigned, and flipped open his Moleskine, scribbled the date that the judge had given him and tore the page out, handing it to the lanky 'consulting detective' before stepping past him, nodding at the uniformed officer holding the Crime Scene tape up and approached the car their current body had been found in.
"And the laryngitis?" Sherlock asked, even as his blonde companion kicked him in the ankle.
Lestrade sighed again, glad he'd kept the notebook open and scribbled another note.
"Oh." Sherlock read the note over Greg's shoulder and his eyes widened. "Well. Um. Shall I tell you who did it?"
Lestrade didn't even raise his eyebrow, just nodded wearily and flipped the page, preparing to take notes as Sherlock circled the vehicle, coat sweeping out behind him like he was an oversized bat.
At that mental image, Greg almost laughed, but immediately a half-choking noise tore itself from his thro
Everything is Not as it Seems part 1Part 1Everything is Not as it Seems part 13 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Please read the intro first or none of this will make sense!
The cab ride to the prison was long and unbearably quiet. Sherlock seemed caught up in his own little world and John couldn't help but wonder what had made him so upset. He knew as well as anyone could that Sherlock didn't like his brother meddling with his affairs but it wasn't as if Mycroft had used his new relationship with Lestrade in any way. In fact, in the two months Lestrade had been out of the hospital they had barely seen him. If Mycroft had been planning on using him as a spy John suspected they would have been seeing the Detective Inspector much more often. If anything it seemed like the new romance was keeping Mycroft out of their hair.
Of course there could always be some reason that the good doctor didn't know about. Perhaps Sherlock was...well maybe he was jealous. He rarely talked about his sex-life or even what interested him so it was entirely possible that Sherlock had a bit of a thing for
Teenage Dirtbag - SH"Right, are you going to be okay for a few hours?"Teenage Dirtbag - SH3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The voice, also known as John Watson, stood in the doorway to their flat, glancing round one last time to his ridiculously skinny flatmate lounging on the sofa, lost in his thoughts.
Probably clearing up his 'hard drive', as he puts it.
"You make is sound as if this is the first time you've done this before."
"I ask every time, because I don't trust you to burn the place down. Mrs Hudson might not let you get away with that. She's good enough to let you do your experiments, and you just manage to scrape through with those bullet holes. Speaking of which where have you hidden my gun?"
"I'll be fine John, go, Lestrade is waiting for you."
It was Friday night, and ever since John and Lestrade had become good friends, they both went to the pub. It was very beneficial for both of them. John could get away from the stress of Sherlock, and Lestrade could get away from the stress of work. They swapped stories, laughed, and generally jus
On a rainy day - MystradeThe small café was full of people, as it was pouring outside. Lestrade was one of them. He hadn't expected it to rain today, so now he sat by the window and waited for it to pass by. He had no money for a cab either, just enough to buy a coffee. He sighed. It didn't look as if the rain would stop anytime soon. It was a twenty minute walk home. Well, there no helping it. Lestrade could either stay in the café for the next few hours or endure twenty minutes in the rain. Just as Lestrade was about to step outside the door, his phone went off. He looked at the text message and a small smile crept on his lips.On a rainy day - Mystrade3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Are you intending to walk home in this weather? It's rather unpleasant.
Are you observing me?
Yes, of course I am. Care to answer my question?
Don't have a choice. No umbrella, no money.
I could provide you with both if you want me to.
Only need the former.
Instead of a reply a black car pulled up nearby and a man in a bla
BBC Sherlock - Day TwoAs the sun was just starting to rise on London, Sherlock Holmes lay on the floor of 221B and stared upwards. His legs were propped up on the sofa with his back flat against the floor, his sharp eyes writing notes on the ceiling.BBC Sherlock - Day Two4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Cases: Dundas and Moran.
-Posed blood stains which are mirror images of each other.
Purpose: Unknown, possibly symbolic.
Motivation: Desire to send a message? Obsessive behaviour? Self-destructive leaving of clues in order to aid the capturing process?
Method of manufacturing: Unknown, difficult to pose liquids exactly. Created with a pipette or stencil? Maybe a frozen mould which is then thawed to create the shape? Ask Lestrade for Molly's results on the blood to see if there is evidence of temperature changes.
-The cosmetic surgery at the same clinic. Had the two men met?
Briefly rolling over to check the notes Lestrade had given him revealed they
BBC Sherlock - Day OneJohn Watson sighed irritably and looked at his watch. Unsurprisingly his train was late. Probably the wrong sort of leaves on the line again. Either that or the entire thing had fallen through a hole in space and time and was currently being used as a chew toy by some beast from the dungeon dimensions. He had heard weirder excuses during his time spent on trains; mind you he didn't have a very good track record with that form of transport full stop. Something invariably went wrong. On one memorable occasion the driver, who had been trying to sneak a cigarette on the job, had dropped hot ash in his lap and accidentally set fire to his trousers.BBC Sherlock - Day One4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
John and the other bewildered passengers of the 9:00 to Norwich train had subsequently been treated to the driver shrieking over the intercom for one of the ticket men to come and assist him in 'putting his knackers out.'
He stood in Liverpool Street Station and stared vaguely up at the departure times board, getting jostled by the regular commut
Everything is Not as it Seems intro"Sherlock I'm home!" John called up the stairs to the flat. He didn't really expect any kind of greeting in return but the warning allowed Sherlock a few minuts to clean up whatever experiments he was conducting before John actually walked through the door. It was a habit he had developed after coming home one day to find Sherlock dissecting a victims cat on the kitchen table.Everything is Not as it Seems intro3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Luckily for John it seemed the consulting detective had not been in the middle of any kind of dangerous or disgusting experiments. In fact, he seemed to have opted for a relatively normal afternoon of sitting on the sofa and reading one of John's books even though he had deemed them all "dull" months ago when John had first unpacked them.
But of course it couldn't be that simple. It never was with Sherlock. And while little could startle the good doctor anymore he had to admit he was surprised to see a teenage girl sitting in his chair.
"Um...good afternoon?" he asked, passing by her to take the groceries he was
BBC Sherlock: Something to talk aboutSix o'clock in the morning, Saturday. A call from Lestrade. Yes, a case, come to Scotland Yard at once.BBC Sherlock: Something to talk about2 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock hung up with excitement, John just groaned plaintively. Friday was hellish at the hospital and he definitely could use some rest. Watson was determined to sleep through the whole morning, no matter what. Sherlock didn't waste any time, though. He sprang out of the bed, already wide awake, and delved into his wardrobe, preparing clothes for today.
"Come on, John! Don't dawdle! The adventure awaits!" Sherlock urged him in an upbeat tone.
John covered his head with a duvet, mumbling something incoherently about the place where Sherlock could put this adventure right now and how deep. The detective rolled his eyes.
"John, you are perfectly aware that I won't back off. You're coming with me whether you like it or not," he said adamantly, folding his arms across his chest. "After all, I'm completely lost without my blogger..." He added in a kinder voice, shamelessly butter
Prompted: TemperToday they had their weekly night out, or at least that's what they liked calling it. As a matter of fact they had no set weekday and they only made it out every other week or so, but both men liked to think that they could manage to make a weekly meeting. It was nothing elaborate, most of the times they just went to a pub, talking, drinking beer, watching football or playing darts.Prompted: Temper3 years ago in Romance More Like This
After Greg had set down his third pint in front of him John raised his beer and they clinked glasses.
"So, tell me, what is Mycroft like when he's 'off duty'?", John asked bluntly.
Greg almost choked on his beer. "What? How would I know?" Was his hasty reply when he had his throat back under control.
"Sherlock observed and deduced and you know how much he likes to show off his brilliance, so I know about you two." He bumped his knee against Greg's under the table. "Don't worry, I'm not going to tell anyone. I can't vouch for Sherlock but I think that he enjoys teasing you both about it too much to just make
Mystrade, Divorce and Robbery...Oh MyGot something I think you'll like. -GLMystrade, Divorce and Robbery...Oh My3 years ago in Comedy More Like This
Even you'll be stumped by this one i think. -GL
Highly unlikely. -SH
Oh, you'll see. Countess of Morcar's diamond has disappeared. Completely. We caught the bloke that did it. But he doesn't have it and he didn't have time to hide it anywhere. -GL
You sure you caught the right man? -SH
Definitely. He's got a record, got no alibi and was definitely there when it went. John Horner. Prior for robbery. -GL
Then did you check absolutely everywhere? -SH
We strip searched him, searched where he was working, searched the tool bag. Nowhere. -GL
Thing is, without the Blue Carbuncle, we won't be able to pin it on him. -GL
Scotland Yard does strip searches now? Interesting... -SH
Did you do a cavity search? -SH
Not at the office, Sherlock, in the holding cells. Why is that interesting? And yes. Came up with zip. -GL
Nothing...just didn't peg you or Donovan for being the strip searching type. Stomach contents? -SH
We're not going to make the guy throw