Trying not to love youYou call to me, and I fall at your feet
How could anyone ask for more?
And our time apart, like knives in my heart
How could anyone ask for more?
"JJJOOOHHHNNN" I heard my flatmate shout from downstairs his voice strained. He'd been gone for 2 weeks saying it was one of those cases he'd best do himself not even telling me as to where he was going. It hurt to know that he would rather do some things without me but I wasn't complaining to him if he still came back home. I rushed down the stairs and for the first time in 10 days set eyes on my flatmate.
My heart almost stopped at the sight of the blood pouring from his shoulder as he layed on the floor, barely conscious. I rushed over to him falling to my knees grabbing the first aid box from beside the sofa as I did so and let my medical training take over. Why didn't he take me with him? I would have stopped this! I could have been the one hurt instead of him and I realised painfully I would give almost anything for that to be the case
The deductions of one John WatsonWarning - Slash! Don't like dont read.The deductions of one John Watson4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock /3
and please enjoy and let me know what you think
It should have been obvious to me from the moment that that I walked into the living room at Irene's house that Sherlock was indeed in love with this women. The wonderful, mystery that was Irene Adler had caught the attention of my friend, my companion, my reason for living, Sherlock Holmes. When he thought her died the emotion he felt towards her, the sadness in the song he wrote, the sadness in even his cold hearted eyes it was almost too much to bare.
I had to wonder if he'd feel that way for me. Would he almost cry at the thought of me died? Would he run to the end of the earth to save me, like I know he'd done for her when he thinks I'm stupid enough to believe Mycroft's story of her death. Sherlock may have been able to fool his brother into his cold-heartedness but me it was more difficult. I'd seen the way her very smile had caused his heart to flutter
Must Be MadTitle: Must Be MadMust Be Mad4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Rating: Mild T (13+)
Summary: There are some things none of us understand. Things like falling in love with Sherlock Holmes.
Warnings: Slash. May trigger intense periods of crying over the cruelty of the BBC.
Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock. If I did, the series finale would certainly not have involved John Watson's heart breaking into a million tiny pieces.
Notes: This is kind of part of a series of fics (Must Be Mad, More Than I Am, Lovers of the Lost, and Of Course, Of Course.) They can be read as a series, or as stand-alone stories
The violinThe ViolinThe violin4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John's eyes flickered up from his dreary paper as the melodic, sad notes flowed off of Sherlock's violin. Sherlock stood with his back to John, his lean figure elegantly moving in slow, sad circles with his violin outstretched in his arms. The golden morning light curtained around his body, sending long shadows across the room. John felt mesmerised by the he played it with such ease, twisting and turning. The violin sang a sad song, and John almost found himself sad just to hear it.
Sherlock abruptly stopped playing, letting his arm drop and ceasing the song clumsily. John frowned, and quickly had the sense to avert his eyes back to his paper before he turned around.
Sherlock let the violin rest on his neck. He turned slightly towards John his eyes fixed on him as he tried to figure him out.
"John," He began, squinting in the light. "Do you play?"
John frowned. "Instrument wise?"
Sherlock nodded vaguely. He smiled slightly as John met his gaze and lowered his instrument.
A Sea Of Millions - SxJJohn Watson's parents, upon his birth, had stared with perplexity as they looked into the palm of his right hand and, more specifically, the silver, shimmering letters written on it neatly. Sherlock, the letters spelled, and how strange it was, the name of the man who would be John's soul mate. How strange, indeed.A Sea Of Millions - SxJ4 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock Holmes' parents, however, had been quite distressed at the silver lettering printed on the inside of the hand of their second son. John, his hand read. How horrid, they thought, it must be to search for a single man in a sea of millions who all match perfectly the only description given.
And how horrid it was, and something Sherlock had always resented. In just about every year of his life he'd met a different John, and had fallen for a few quite hard.
The first time Sherlock had felt so strongly about one of the many Johns in his life was during his first year of high school. He had been paired up for a project with a boy named John Collins. John Coll
Invisible TextsInvisible TextsInvisible Texts4 years ago in Scraps More Like This
John X Sherlock
"I need some air!" John stormed out of the flat, quickly grabbing the phone on the table before rushing down the stairs.
He had really done it this time. It had been a long day at the clinic, filled with sick and whinging patients and his lack of sleep had run him ragged this week, and had only just returned to the flat to find a dead midget body strewn across the dining table in the kitchen.
"It's for an experiment, he donated his body to science, so it perfectly legal"
"But why is he on our kitchen table?"
"Where better to cultivate the bacteria? I need to keep a close eye on it. And I know my favorite blogger gets lonely without me" he smiled jokingly at John as he eyed the body.
"I'll be fine if you want to stay at the hospital"
"Well it's not only that, I have other experiments here that require my attention"
"Sherlock, I'm not comfortable with this!"
"It'll only be maybe a month or two-"
"I want it out now!"
An argument had broken out af
Home againAUTHOR'S NOTE: this is sequel to the story "A month after." If I were you I'd read that story first. Thank you.Home again4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock Holmes's returned to 221B Baker Street after his "death" 5 hours and thirty two minutes ago. And to be honest he didn't expect that reaction from Mrs. Hudson and John. Especially from John. The consulting detective thought Mrs. Hudson would faint and Dr. Watson would punch him in the face. Or somewhere else. But instead of that Sherlock saw his friend with hopeless eyes and the gun in his hand, ready to die.
And that's caused pain. Sharp pain inside Sherlock Holmes's heart. The feeling of constant grief has been living in Sherlock all of these 18 month. 18 month Sherlock Holmes was dead to his best friend. And 18 month he has been solving crimes in China, Japan, New Zealand just not to think about John's sufferings. But every evening, just like Mycroft predicted he watched his Doctor via cameras on Baker Street. There was time when the detective was ruining everythin
Somebody loves youSpoilers for ´´A scandal in belgravia´´Somebody loves you4 years ago in Romance More Like This
set right after the episode
John arrived home to find Sherlock gazing out the window,to the dark,cold London.
He was deep drowned on his thoughts,John knew that,so he didn´t interrupt him and took off his coat,placing it on the couch,trying not to think that Sherlock´s thoughts were probably directed to that woman as he made his way to the kitchen.A hot,steamy cup of tea as his intended goal.
He turned his head,Sherlock hadn´t moved a muscle.If he didn´t know the man so well he would have thought he had heard things.But he did know him,after all.
´´Yes,Sherlock?´´ he answered,straightening up a bit
´´I need your help with and experiment.´´ The taller man said,this time turning his head a bit,John knew it wasn´t a request,his tone was more like an order.
Normally John would have asked what was it about,or
Sherlock FanFic: White Lies -Part 1This story is set after Scandal in Belgravia but before Reichenbach.Sherlock FanFic: White Lies -Part 14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Dedicated to my dear friend Chloe.
John's phone buzzed stubbornly in his pocket. With a sigh, he withdrew it, already expecting it to be his flatmate.
GOING TO BE LATE HOME. MORIARTY IS TRYING TO BE CLEVER. SH.
John rubbed his brow worriedly, and, for all the help it would give, texted back.
BE CAREFUL. JW.
It perplexed John how Sherlock Holmes could be texting as well as fending off his nemesis, but then again; he was Sherlock Holmes. John was surprised when his phone buzzed again, not long after he sent his own.
ALWAYS AM. I'LL BE 15 MINUTES. PUT THE KETTLE ON, WOULD YOU? SH.
He sighed again, slipped the phone back into his pocket and heaved himself from his favourite armchair. Sometimes John swore that the only reason Sherlock ever wanted a flatmate was to be able to have a servant. He walked into the kitchen, and filled the kettle reluctantly. When he turned to place it back on its platform, J
Nursery Rhymes Are Deadly 1London Bridge is Falling DownNursery Rhymes Are Deadly 15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Another long, boring day. Sherlock and John hadn't had a case in over two weeks and the doctor could tell the boredom was beginning to take its toll on the detective. The man would occasionally stand up walk to the door or the window then stop and turn quickly and half run half shuffle over to the other side of the apartment. Twice he had gone to the fridge, opened it, stared inside then slammed the door making his flatmate jump in surprise.
"Will you sit down please? You're making me nervous." John said finally, slamming his computer shut. He had been trying to update his blog but unfortunately Sherlock's constant movement was becoming a bit of a distraction.
"You like being nervous." Sherlock countered, not even looking at him.
"True as that may be I would like to focus. Sit down and watch the telly or something." the doctor said.
"Eh. Boring." the detective said returning to the sofa and falling onto it none to gracefully.
"I'm sure something wil
Senses"Sherlock what are you doing?" John asked as his flatmate pulled him out of his chair.Senses4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"I need your help with an experiment. Nothing dangerous I promise." Sherlock assured him, letting the doctor's arm drop to his side once he was on his feet.
John rolled his eyes. "Can't you experiment on yourself? I was reading."
"You can read later. I already did this experiment on myself and I need to know the results are consistent."
Sherlock shook his head. "Can't tell you or you'll think the same thing is happening to you when it really isn't. Power of suggestion and all that. Now, may I start?"
John rolled his eyes but nodded. How bad could it be if Sherlock had already undergone the mysterious experiment and was standing in front of him, as alive and energetic as ever. Sherlock grinned and quickly tied a blindfold over John's eyes.
"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?" the doctor asked, crying out in surprise.
"Calm down John. I read a while ago that if you cut off one sense
Nursery Rhymes Are Deadly 8Jack Be NimbleNursery Rhymes Are Deadly 84 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"And you want to know who 'Jack' is?" John said, trying to keep the sigh out of his voice as he sat down in his chair. He also tried to ignore the body on the floor and was not entirely surprised to find this last easier to accomplish. Must be a side-effect of living with Sherlock, building up a tolerance to having human remains, intact or otherwise, scattered about your home.
"Jack means nothing. It's a name. Don't be stupid John, even you're more clever than that." though Sherlock's eyes were closed John was sure he had rolled them.
It may have been mid-afternoon but for John it was still too early to start an argument so he conceded and asked instead, "Have you made any headway?"
"I have several theories though they each seem somewhat unlikely." Sherlock responded. "Is there any historical background to this story?"
"From what I've heard it means almost exactly what it says. Jumping over candles used to be a sort of sport. People originally jumped over fires bu
SH Crying Over Spilt CyanideCrying over split Cyanide introSH Crying Over Spilt Cyanide4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
John didn't know if he'd be able to forgive him. Not at first.
The way he'd strolled oh so calmly into 221b, bold as brass, asking about milk. Milk, of all bloody things right then milk. Something normal.
But the whole damn situation wasn't normal. Nowhere near normal.
But yet, there he was, acting as if the last three years were just a figment of John's imagination.
"No, John, don't be stupid, I didn't die in your arms. I didn't bleed to death as you bent over me, crying my name. Didn't whisper your name with my last breath. And I certainly didn't close my eyes one final time as you begged me to stay with you. And I most definitely didn't have a funeral three years ago to the day.
"By the way, do we have any milk? I'd kill for some coffee."
MiscommunicationJohn had been acting strangely. Ever since the incident at the pool with Moriarty he had been skittish. He might have thought Sherlock didn't notice but of course he did. Every time they were in a room together John would make an excuse to leave. He would be sitting in his chair when Sherlock would come into the room and sit down on the sofa. Within minutes John would start twitching, his hands would clench and unclench and he would start looking over his shoulder. Then he would rise and go up to his room or leave to do the shopping. Or just leave, no excuse given.Miscommunication4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
At first Sherlock thought it was just normal nerves. The man had been strapped to a bomb, it was normal not to want to stay still for too long. Movement made you harder to catch. But he seemed to have no trouble staying still for long periods of time when the consulting detective wasn't within his range of vision. He knew because he'd followed him one day and watched him sit on a park bench for an hour and a half.
Johnlock - I believe in you, SherlockSherlock suddenly howled in frustration after four hours of deep thinking.Johnlock - I believe in you, Sherlock4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He had been leaning on his hands for the entire time, occasionally blinking and frowning, but still completely motionless. Even though the noise shocked me, I was relieved to know that he hadn't become comatose in his state of thought.
"You okay Sherlock?" I asked, not looking up from my paper.
"This case doesn't make any sense, John! Nothing fits together, there are too many variables!"
"Oh yes?" I murmured, only half paying attention.
"I wanted to get this case solved by tomorrow afternoon, but at this rate it'll take me days.. My brain isn't working, John!" He cried, spinning and falling onto the sofa with a winded exhale.
"You know that's not true. Perhaps if you went to bed or relaxed a little you could think more clearly."
Sherlock growled, facing the back of the sofa and curling into a ball. His tie and coat lay strewn on the floor from when he walked in, and his tie was hanging loosely from his shirt. He
Dead and Buried(After Reichenbach)Dead and Buried3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
John didn't flinch, didn't even look surprised when - one fine, ordinary morning just like any other - he found Sherlock sitting in his chair with raised brows and an expecting look in his eyes.
"I'm back," he said and John only responded with a quiet "I know" and fell silent on the matter.
This wasn't right, Sherlock thought, didn't fit with how he'd imagined John react. He had imagined yelling and heated arguments, maybe even objects thrown and abuse being shouted. Calm resignation was one of the traits John did not possess - or rather, should not be able to possess. It was puzzling. Sherlock didn't like puzzles (yes, solving them was nice, was wonderful, was what he strived and lived for, but puzzles themselves were not likable in the least), but it seemed that this one needed further investigation.
John had started seeing his therapist again. Sherlock wondered why, for he still believed her to be rather incompetent. One time, he told Joh
Sherlock : 5 + 1 Baby5 unacceptable names for baby and 1 which was just perfectSherlock : 5 + 1 Baby4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
They lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. The Baby had been asleep in his crib for nearly two hours.
"What do you think of Mark?" John asked.
"No. It somehow reminds me of Mycroft."
"How? Mark has nothing to do with Mycroft!"
"The first letter is the same." Sherlock eyed him in the gloom. "It's enough."
John rolled his eyes. "What about Martin--No. First letter, right."
"Yes. And I don't want our child to grow up obsessed with aeroplanes. So Martin is out. As are Douglas and Arthur."
John giggled. Sherlock was impossible.
"Steven?" the good doctor asked, after few minutes filled with quiet snoring from the crib.
"Name me a Steven who isn't a troll! Come on, John, use your imagination!"
"Hey! I'm trying to! I've given you at least twenty names in the last two--"
He was cut short by a wail. Oh, so it was already two hours and twenty-one minutes? The Baby worked like a Swiss watch. John watched Sherlock--thank God it was
The Smell of Chloroform: Ch.3It had been easy, almost too easy for Sherlock to figure out where John was. First of all, there weren't that many abandoned mental hospitals around, and only one of them had maples planted on the outdoors area. In fact it was a maple allée. It had long been obvious for him that it was Jim he was dealing with. Who else? Location, clues - everything had the rotten stench of Jim. But the fact that everything so far had been this simple made Sherlock a little bit uneasy. Why did Jim make it so easy for Sherlock to find John? Jim hadn't even confiscated John's phone. And the wallet - too big to just 'accidentally' drop on the ground without Jim noticing. Jim's need for Sherlock to find John was almost desperate. Too desperate. There was something more to this, of that he was certain. Sherlock feared what kind of state he would might find John in.The Smell of Chloroform: Ch.34 years ago in Drama More Like This
Sherlock found him in the corner of a room in that which once had been one of the hospital's Secure Units. Often, these un
MysteryMysteryMystery4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Sherlock Holmes had always been a mystery to Dr John Watson. Hell, to everyone. But over the course of knowing him, John had been noticing less than human, things about the consulting detective.
First it was the colour of his skin. Sure, Brits have pale skin, but Sherlock's was oddly, pale. White, even. Like, white as in dead white. It was strange at first, but John just shook it off. He'd been used to tan skin for quite some time.
Second, the clothes. Sherlock seemed to like to cover as much skin as possible. John shrugged it off as the man's style. And London was cold.
The third thing was the way Sherlock talked. High class, posh manner. Even his voice was, posh-ish. His brother, Mycroft, talked in the same manner. But that was how they were raised, John had told himself
Fourth was the personality. Distant. Self-confessed sociopath. Always bored. It was peculiar to John, but then again, everyone thought Sherlock Holmes was peculiar.
The fifth thing, he didn't eat or slee
ExperimentSherlock was laying on the couch, presumably thinking, possibly asleep. John hardly ever had a chance to sit there himself, as Sherlock was always occupying it. John eyed him for a moment, and then something snapped and he decided to go ahead with the impulse he’d been secretly fighting. He came and stood over him minute before letting his knee rest next to Sherlock’s leg and leaning across with his arm on the back of the couch. Sherlock didn’t move, so he continued to climb on top of him.Experiment3 years ago in Romance More Like This
“John, what are you doing?” Sherlock asked lazily without opening his eyes.
“Experiment,” he replied cheekily.
“Really?” Sherlock’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“You’re not the only one who does experiments on his flat-mate.” John said matter-of-factly, settling himself along Sherlock’s full length and letting his head come to rest over Sherlock’s heart a
The Greatest Truth- SherlockContinuation of The Biggest LieThe Greatest Truth- Sherlock4 years ago in Drama More Like This
They say the truth
shall set you free.
Will the truth
bring you back to me?
The minutes, hours and days began to bleed into each other. Nothing could distract Sherlock from the absence of his John. Experiments could not hold his attention, every image on the telly reminded him of days spent lounging on the sofa with John, every man on the street below reminded him how no one could ever replace his wonderful doctor, every note he played on his violin sounded like John, John, John.
By the fourth day he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled his sorry self off the sofa, grabbed his coat and scarf and made his way to the first place he could think where John might have gone.
He arrived on Sarah's doorstep less than an hour later but found himself hesitating before pressing the bell. Finally working up the nerve he rang the bell. A few moments later a very annoyed Sarah stood in the doorway, glaring at him.
"What do you want Holmes?" she asked.
BBC Sherlock - FreakJohn Watson was tired. He was chilled to the bone, exhausted and comprehensively pissed off. As a matter of fact, the last time he had been this angry he'd been lying on the ground with shrapnel in his shoulder.BBC Sherlock - Freak4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
People have the most bizarre reactions to traumatic events, this he knew from his experience from a doctor. He had once met a man with an amputated arm who, still buzzing from adrenaline, had picked up the limb and was using it to hit small rocks like a very macabre game of golf, giggling hysterically all the while. He KNEW people had strange reactions, but nothing quite compared with the actual experience of lying in a gulley in Helmand Province with blood gushing from an open wound, staring at the sky and thinking lividly, 'They shot me! The bastards shot me! That's . . .! That's . . . ! That's just not bloody cricket!'
His current anger had a less dramatic origin however. He and Sherlock had been running around London all day, freezing their arses off and making a very unsat
Three times John Watson was...THREE TIMES JOHN WATSON WAS A GOOD DOCTOR, ONE HE WAS BAD AND ONE TIME HE MANAGED TO BE A GOOD PATIENT.Three times John Watson was...4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
THREE TIMES JOHN WATSON WAS A GOOD DOCTOR
Come at once, your presence is very much needed. SH
At work, can't leave. Once make tea yourself JW
I need to consult you in the medical matter. SH
If you glared mycrofts head off, then no, there is nothing i can do. JW
Fascinating. You really think you're funny. SH
How can one pull an inch of glass splinter out of one's foot? SH
Your kidding JW
MY kidding? It hurts. SH
If YOU'RE wondering, your grammar and my foot both hurt. Can't tell which one more. Foot, I think. SH
don't move, i'll be in 10. JW
Oh my, that puts an end to my desire to run a marathon right now. Are you thinking when you're writing, or you just hit letters at random? SH
John Watson, using his very own brand of magic and/or several quantum paradoxes, managed to get to the flat in 7 minutes and 47 seconds; he took another fifteen seconds to climb up the sta
Iced Mint"John? What do I smell like?" They were both lying face up on John's bed, with Sherlock's head nestled between John's neck, and John's right arm resting against Sherlock's chest.Iced Mint3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Icy." It was the first word that popped into his mind. "You always smell clean. Hang on." John sat up and rolled over so that he was on top of Sherlock, and he nuzzled his neck, taking in a deep breath and Sherlock gave a few small but deep laughs at the sensation.
"Mmmm…" John sighed out in delight. He took in another breath and smiled. He loved that smell–it was unlike anything he'd ever smelled, and he had never really truly understood the meaning of "intoxicating" until he had smelled Sherlock. Come to think of it, there were a lot of things he found intoxicating about Sherlock Holmes. The way his body seemed to be sculpted of marble. His black as night hair that always had a few perfectly formed ringlets. His iridescent eyes. The way his voice deepened when he wanted something. The
Always Look at the Hands"Always look at the hands first, John."Always Look at the Hands3 years ago in Romance More Like This
That's what he had told him once. He didn't know if John had paid any attention to it, but it was one of his sure-fire methods of deduction. After observing one's hands, you were then to examine the cuffs of their clothing, their trousers, and then the trainers or boots.
One quiet night at Baker Street, John had been lying on the couch reading, but only after an hour or so had dozed off and the book had slumped onto his chest. Sherlock had come into the room, looking for something, but he lost the thought (a rare occurrence for him) when he saw John. Looking so peaceful. He knew that everyone looked peaceful when they slept, but still, he couldn't help but walk over to the couch and just look at him, and after a few minutes, he kneeled beside him to look closer. He took in everything. The way John's breath was deep and how his chest rose and fell, how his hands still held the book, how every once in a while he would swallow and take a de