Harry Knows BestJohn's in Waterstones Piccadilly when he gets the text. He's trying to decide on a Christmas present for Mrs Hudson. She'd expressed an interest in the new Nigella Lawson cookbook, but Jamie Oliver was on offer and he'd seen her get teary during an episode of his American series, when he was dressed as a pod of peas and being mobbed by children in a playground. Usually this would end up with the man being put on a register, but on celebrities it is apparently charming to be covered in kids. "Such a lovely boy..." she'd said, her eyes sliding towards Sherlock, who was attacking a cushion so he could study the scatter pattern of feathers when it had been stabbed open, and she sighed obviously wishing 'her' boys were as nice as that Jamie. John had gone and made the tea in the ad break without being asked and Sherlock had been distinctly heard to mutter 'suck up' under his breath as John handed him his cup.Harry Knows Best5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
So he's holding two books, one with a grinning Mockney on the front and
Incantations and Deductions SHObviously it took years for them to ever get around to speaking to each other. Sherlock reasoned that it was natural: as well as being in different, some might even say rival, houses, there was also the social class divide and the fact that Sherlock always gave off the general air of someone who never wanted to talk to anyone, in his life, ever. As a general rule Sherlock felt that unless someone was directly benefitting him by being alive in his presence he would do his best to tolerate them, but if not they could bloody well bugger off and do their dull living /breathing /sleeping /eating /talking /having fun business somewhere else.Incantations and Deductions SH5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mother said it was just his age, that teenage years were awkward, his anti social nature was a phase he was going through. Sherlock rather suspected that it wasn't so much his age as his life. And he wasn't awkward, he was perfectly poised. It was the rest of the world that was awkward and unpredictable and usually mundane but occasionally
Curl Up and Dye SxJIt should be amusing actually, John thinks to himself. Had he really just not let himself notice? He'd been living with a man who forced him to notice things, who got disappointed in John when he couldn't see something that to Sherlock was just so bloody obvious it didn't even need one whole brain cell to notice it, work out what it meant and file it away. He had a feeling that if Sherlock had even the first inkling of what John was thinking now he'd get that look on his face which Mrs Clarkson would get when he handed in an essay on Alexander Pope late, riddled with spelling mistakes. "Really, John you must try harder next time."Curl Up and Dye SxJ5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock has had a haircut. Brilliant deduction so far, Watson, keep going old boy. His hair is now just a shade from being the length of a military recruit, dark fuzz covering his head where once it was those minky curls that looked so thick and soft, like you could bury hands into and loose them... and this is what John can'
BBC Sherlock-BabysittingJohn Watson rubbed his eyes wearily and summoned the last fragments of his patience. "Alright, run it by me one more time. You did what?"BBC Sherlock-Babysitting5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes was, for some unfathomable reason, sopping wet and covered in soap suds. His clothes were plastered to his skinny frame and he stood dripping in front of Watson's armchair, peering down at his friend through his sodden fringe. "I ran through a car wash." He explained, calmly, for the third time.
John sat back in his chair, his eyes closing despairingly, and asked the question again. "Why?"
"Chasing a suspect."
"And it didn't occur to you to go around the car wash instead of through it?" Then John remembered this was a guy who, on the very night he met him, got hit by a car whilst chasing a suspect. Sherlock may have been incredibly intelligent but the tunnel vision he got when a suspect was in sight often led him to do chronically stupid things. Rather like running through an operational car wash . . .
"Well, he w
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
Must Be MadTitle: Must Be MadMust Be Mad3 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 Lonely Assassin?Sherlock had never expected to see fear on the face of James Moriarty, but right now he looked as scared as he could possibly be. The consulting criminal staggered backwards and fell, holding one hand in front of him in defense, his face full of dread and morbid realisation.The Lonely Assassin?3 years ago in Drama More Like This
His voice barely came out as a whisper. "It's you - you were behind everything, it's always been you!"
The detective grinned and took a step forwards, waiting for the criminal to blink.
He didn't have to wait long.
As soon as he did, Sherlock felt the air move behind him as multiple stone angels appeared, reaching out. Jim crawled backwards towards the wall, terrified, but Sherlock stayed where he was. Because they both knew that they wouldn't hurt him.
"It's been you all along, you you're on their side!"
Sherlock's grin faded slightly. He began to walk slowly towards Jim, and he crouched down so that his mouth was centimetres away from his ear. He could hear the criminal's breathing - unsteady and thi
BBC Sherlock - GladstoneDr. John Watson bounced eagerly on the balls of his feet, trying to fight the urge to start grinning like an idiot. He felt like a child on Christmas Eve, all delighted energy and frustration that things were moving too slowly. For goodness sake, I've invaded Afghanistan, I've been shot in war, killed a serial killer in cold blood and now I'm acting like a three year old hyper on sugar! He mentally berated himself, but found he was too happy to care really. Sometimes acting like a child is good for the soul.BBC Sherlock - Gladstone5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes looked sideways at him and couldn't quite stifle a small, indulgent smile. "You're mad, you know that?" He said, but his tone didn't match his words.
"Yeah." John beamed at him.
The smile widened and Sherlock looked away, shaking his head.
Currently they were stood in the waiting room of the local RSPCA centre, accompanied by a man with a flatulent parrot in a cage and a woman sat next to a carrier containing something that was either a ferret or an ewok. The
BBC Sherlock-Christmas DinnerJohn Watson rolled his eyes as he heard yet another smash coming from Sherlock's bedroom. He had never ventured past the (faintly-charred) door and had no ideas of the horrors which lurked within. But, he mused, given that it belonged to a man who kept eyeballs in the microwave and frequently attempted to create plastic explosives in the kitchen sink, chances are he probably had some nefarious experiments in there. Experiments which, to judge by the noise, were currently being knocked to the floor.BBC Sherlock-Christmas Dinner5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Sherlock, we're going to be late." He called through the door.
"I know, I know!" Came the irritated response, coupled with a sound like a parrot being sat on.
"Mycroft specified 6:30. If we're to get to Holmes House in time we've got to leave in the next five minutes. Especially since taxis are always so scarce on Christmas eve." John said, re-reading the invitation he held in his hand.
"I know." There was a high pitched whizzing noise and a thud as something embedded itself i
The kiss of nights comfortThe kiss of nights comfort3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Another man down.
Another friend down.
"Noo. . ." John murmurs in his sleep, his head moving to the other side of his pillow.
Another gunshot, followed by a loud boom as dirt flies into the air and comrades fall.
"Noo. . . noo. . ." He says more urgently, like a quiet, desperate cry.
The image changes.
It's Sherlock, on the roof of the hospital again.
The scene replayed in his head.
Sherlock sending his 'note' and jumping.
"SHERLOCK!" John bolts upwards, wide awake and breathing hard. He looked around, making sure that he was still there in his bedroom of 221b Baker Street. His and Sherlock's flat.
"That was two years ago John, calm down, Sherlock is fine." He said to himself, throwing his blanket back over his shoulder and laying his head on the pillow. He sighed, his breath back to normal. A light passed by the window, caused by a passing car. The faint sound of a siren wailing in the night. He turned away from the window and started drifting back to sleep. He was almost a
BBC Sherlock - The Bored SongIf you're bored and you know it shoot a wall! (boom, boom)BBC Sherlock - The Bored Song3 years ago in Sketches More Like This
If you're bored and you know it shoot a wall! (boom, boom)
If you're bored and you know it, then your wall will surely show it,
if you're bored and you know it shoot a wall! (boom boom)
Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing KidneyJohn woke up to the sound of Sherlock snoring. The detective was sprawled over him like an octopus, and John estimated his snoring to be roughly 2,5 on Richter scale he had become quite good at determining that.Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Kidney3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John pried himself from Sherlock's death grip and left the bed for kitchen. On the way there he glanced around the flat. Nothing was out of ordinary: Sherlock's experiments were scattered around the living room, the skull was in its place on the mantelpiece, the unicorn was standing in the corner, peacefully munching on hay... Wait, what?!
"...What?" Sherlock murmured.
"What the hell did you put in my tea last night?!" John asked and pouted. Sherlock grumbled something illegible to his pillow as an answer.
"There's a bloody unicorn in our flat!" John shouted.
"Yes, her name is Twilight Sparkle. What of it?"
The unicorn lifted her head.
"Sherlock! It's talking to me! Should I be worried?"
"You sure?" John frowned worriedly.
"But we ca
I Find You Aesthetically PleasingI Find You Aesthetically Pleasing3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John had always been a serious child, nearly grim at times and for that most of the kids in his class had been a constant source of teasing. But when you meet the boy who has yet to grow into his ears and appears to own a rather large assortment of oddly patterned sweaters, you were instantly drawn to him. John wasn't all that interested in all the boring things the other kids were- coloring and all that nonsense (though he did have a secret passion for dinosaurs you easily deduced)- and so you were certain that you would get along quite well. He didn't seem like he would be as easily put off by your intellect as the other children and you had a secret of your own- you had always wanted a friend.
It took three days of constant scrutiny for you to uncover enough of his hobbies, likes, and dislikes in order to maintain a steady stream of conversation and hopefully establish a friendly acquaintance. It had been a while since you had attempted to make a social connection though, so it took
Oneword: WallsOneword: Walls3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The walls of 221B Baker street could tell stories, even to those not as gifted at reading details as its world-renowned resident. The bullet-hole-riddled yellow spray paint smiley face was, of course, the most distinguishing feature, a playful reminder of a successful case and the ensuing boredom. Alongside the remaining ash from the explosion next door, and the few scattered drops of blood flung about from a harpoon, the smiley face almost seemed to be hiding the secrets of its owner.
John Watson sighed as he ran a hand over this scar in the floral-printed paper. When he'd first moved in, there had been plenty of walls between him and his flatmate. And to be sure, there were still a few remaining. Sherlock did not easily volunteer information about himself, only others. But as the two grew closer, John could begin to see the walls coming down, one by one. Sherlock's giddy laugh of excitement, his smile at a compliment, or his concern for John and Mrs. Hudson when they were
Sherlock x Reader: You Bleed Where?Blood.Sherlock x Reader: You Bleed Where?1 year ago in Humor More Like This
You cursed as you took your towel to wipe the running crimson streak down your leg.
Every. Single. Month.
You hated having to bear this stupid hormonal crap called a period. It was horrible having to go through it for an entire week. Mood swings, unusual food cravings, and the fact that you were tired all the time didn't help at all.
Walking out of the loo in an oversized t-shirt and sweats, Sherlock caught your sleepy form. He had no idea why you were so tired and cross all the time. A cramp seared through your stomach, causing you to stop and clutch it in pain. Luckily, you were used to this kind of thing, and knew it would pass in a moment. Sherlock, however, didn't, and rushed to your side to help you to the couch.
"(YN)? (YN), are you okay?" he asked as he sat you down and studied your actions. Your face was a little pale, and you were absolutely exhausted. "What's wrong?" You shook your head as the cramp pain passed and you sat back.
"I'm fine, Sherl, I'm
Holmes and Watson - HurtCracked ribs, fractured jaw, broken nose, several bruises, possible internal bleeding. Fantastic.Holmes and Watson - Hurt6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Watson had known Holmes for years, and yet it never seized amaze him how this man deliberately sought out violent encounters. He sighed, and grabbed a cloth and some disinfectant from the side table. Dampening the cloth with the disinfectant, he moved to cleanse his friend's wounds.
Holmes hissed when he brushed the cloth over a rather large gash in his abdomen. Watson glanced at him, and moved to examine the cut that was quite clearly
"A knife wound? Holmes, you told me it was a fist fight!"
"Fists, knives, cannons! What difference does it make? The bottom line is, I am injured and in need of your expert skills as a doctor." Holmes paused to take a breath. "Besides, I knew that if you knew what I was doing, you would have made a scene."
"Made a scene?" Watson huffed. "When have I ever made a scene?"
"You're making one right now, old friend," Holmes pointed out casually.
An Imperfect ConfessionJohn, I am going to tell you something very important, and you must listen closely. It is absolutely vital that you understand me. Can you hear me? Good. But are you listening? I mean really listening? Yes? Then I will tell you.An Imperfect Confession3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John. I have wanted to tell you this for a very long time. Every time I talk to you I just feel it welling up inside me, and so I just have to, I just need to tell you that
You are an idiot.
I have never met anybody quite as idiotic as you, John. There is nobody like you. Every time you tell me how amazing I am, how amazing my intellect is, all I can think of is just how much of an imbercile you are, with your trusting eyes and your hopeful expression. Don't make people into heroes, John. I am not one of them. I really cannot begin to tell you just how stupid you are, and I always wonder why you can't just think, John, because if you thought then maybe you would see, I mean really see, what you have failed to see all along, because then
Maybe you wo
MoD 2: Astrophysics (Sherlock x Reader)What had just happened?MoD 2: Astrophysics (Sherlock x Reader)1 year ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Once second he was desperately trying to remember any information on his hard drive about astrophysics- damn that pointless field- and the next you were flawlessly gabbing with the target, keeping your cover from being blown wide open. There was a definite advantage to having you along. Though he’d already gathered that from the tennis case.
Stupid sweater vest had given him a rash.
Sherlock blinked, glancing over at John to find your brother was equally confused, if not more so.
Definitely more so.
“Don’t mind them. He’s a chemist. You know how they are- no consideration for the bigger picture... and my brother there is here for a theater lecture. Token creative type, you know,“ you offered the young scientist, giving a quick grin as you adjusted the thick framed glasses on your face.
Shame they were fake. You looked… presentable with glasses.
Now that he thought about it the
Incantations and Deductions Chapter ElevenChapter ElevenIncantations and Deductions Chapter Eleven3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John makes his way to the Great Hall trying not to feel too downhearted. The beginning of fifth year has so far not been great: seeing Sherlock has churned up feelings that he doesn't want to examine too closely and which hadn't put him in the best of moods. Then his meeting with the head of Gryffindor had just been...well, shitty.
"I understand your desire to be back with your friends John, but you must understand that you attacked a fellow student in the midst of one of your nightmares. Now, whilst your Healers tell me you're improving they cannot guarantee that you won't relapse."
Arguing, John had realised, would have been pointless. The housemistress had been sympathetic but stern. It was an important year for everyone of his age at Hogwarts: they needed no distractions, least of all from one of their friends waking them up every night, screaming at things that weren't really there. John supposes he should just consider this as another case of 'taking one for the te
Cupid. Mike Cupid. SxJAlright, this was an absolute piss take. The higher ups had gone mental, maybe it was something to do with the bad winter or the economic downturn or sodding X-Factor but someone had clearly gone loopy. And now Mike was paying the price.Cupid. Mike Cupid. SxJ5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It had been a normal Tuesday morning. A sudden lurch into consciousness as the alarm made that tinny invasive beeping sound, followed by the usual morning routine of staggering to the bathroom and performing the daily ablutions. Gargling his Listerine Mike had the sudden feeling that it might actually be a good day. His teaching duties were fairly light, he'd done most of his marking, seminar and lecture prep the evening before and look, the sun, bless it, was trying to break through the early morning misty fug that was hanging over the city. This really should have tipped him off. If you're feeling optimistic at a quarter to seven on a Tuesday morning then something is definitely about to go wrong.
Actually, life didn't start going downhill till about
Sherlock/Mycroft textsWhere are you going? MHSherlock/Mycroft texts3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Take a guess. SH
I'll get someone to figure it out for me. MH
I hate you. SH
I should hit you on the head with my umbrella, you know. MH
You're irritating me. SH
That's the point, if I'm not mistaken. MH
-Ignoring your irritating messages. SH
Just doing my job; but you know you'll get bored. And being bored is well, "dull" in your words, I recall. I dare you to ignore me. MH
Challenge accepted. SH
And challenge failed. MH
Truce? Handshake? MH
My ring contains a needle dipped in poison from the South American poison dart frog. Handshake= bad idea. It's truce enough that I told you. SH
Fair enough. *shrugs casualy* I'll just tell you my secret later, then. MH
You spelled "casually" wrong. SH
You still got to what I was trying to say, though. MH
It makes you look like even more of an idiot than u
The Red Shoes Chapter 1 part 1"I told you a million times I did not want to go on vacation," Sherlock said as he, John, Lestrade and Mycroft began walking out of the airport. "Here we are, in another country with no other purpose than to just relax and have what you normal people call fun. I'm just going to be bored the entire time. Why did you have to pick the United States of all places? Why did Lestrade and Mycroft come along?"The Red Shoes Chapter 1 part 14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"You never know," John said. "Something horrible might happen...like a murder. Wouldn't that be great?"
"Don't tease me, John."
"I really do hope something happens so you won't have to be bored the entire time we're here."
"Thank you for caring."
"What are friends for?"
"Gregory and I came along to keep an eye on you two," Mycroft explained to his still pouting younger brother. "Partially to keep you safe and partially so you don't do anything objectionable."
"What objectionable things would we do?" Sherlock aske
As You WishSherlock loved John Watson. He couldn't really deny it anymore, and he had to accept the fact that love wasn't all just neurotransmitters and serotonin and a biological desire to create perfect offspring.As You Wish3 years ago in Romance More Like This
It was real. A state of being. One that overruled anything Sherlock wanted for himself. And although he knew that any other day would be just as good as to show John that he loved him, he knew that John, being the normal man that he was, would at the very least be subconsciously expecting something on a day devoted to love.
But Sherlock Holmes just didn't know what that could be. He, the most brilliant man in England, couldn't think of something worthy of John's appraisal. Of course, there was the cinema, expensive dinners, flowers, overpriced candy…but Sherlock felt disgusted for having merely thought of something so common and vulgar. He couldn't live without the man, the least he could do was to think of something significant and original.
And yet, nothing came. In the week
JohnLock - GravityGravity JohnLockJohnLock - Gravity3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Something always brings me back to you
It never takes too long
No matter what I say or do
I still feel you here 'til the moment I'm gone
Sherlock Holmes stood by the grave that was beside his own fake one.
He visited it frequently, because he could not stand to be back at the flat where Mrs. Hudson was. He could not stand that sad, broken accusing look in her eyes when she saw him.
It was his fault that his good doctor now was laying six feet under, side by side with nothingness; side by side with what he had thought was Sherlock.
Every time Sherlock stood or sat or just was in the cemetery, he could feel John's presence.
He was uncertain if it was a good or bad thing, because there was no resentment in that presence; just a feeling of love and home that did not belong in such a place.
You hold me without touch
You keep me without chains
I never wanted anything so much
Than to d