BBC SH Reunion - MollyThere was nothing nicer than being curled up warm in your bed with nothing but the hypnotic dance of the rain on your window to gentle the silence.BBC SH Reunion - Molly3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Molly Hooper was balanced on the very cusp of sleep, her duvet snugly moulded to the shape of her body like an embrace.
One of her eyes cracked open slightly.
She mentally scolded herself for falling asleep with her book in her hand and the bedside light on, but was too comfortable to get too irritated at herself.
She sighed, contented, and let her eyes slip shut once more.
Molly Hooper had always wanted to help people. Born cleverer than average, her father and mother had been so proud when she'd became a doctor. And she had loved it. For a while.
But, like sand in an hourglass creeping up the sides of the glass, the ones that she simply couldn't have saved began to accumulate.
Her parents worried about the falseness of her smile. She never had been good at pretending she was alright when she wasn't.
Then one day, she quietly informed them
BBC SH - Reunion - Mrs HudsonThe door clicked closed with a barely audible noise.BBC SH - Reunion - Mrs Hudson3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Mrs Hudson let her shopping bags drop to the floor, sighing as her tired arms gained relief for the first time since she'd left the shop.
Above her 221B felt shadowy and cold.
It always did.
Oh well, she was old. She had lost many. She knew better than to dwell upon the past.
But it would be dishonest to deny that she still felt the painful little tugs on her heart whenever she thought of her boys.
Her poor lovely boys.
She sighed. She was being maudlin again.
Her joints were aching with the damp of the persistent January rain which numbed her toes and chilled her to her bones so she reluctantly hauled her bags up again and waddled awkwardly through to 221C.
She needed a cup of tea.
She paused as she reached her door.
It was partly ajar.
She bit down a moment of panic, shaking her head miserably. She could have sworn she had closed it.
Must be going senile. Oh dear, oh dear . . . It was all downhill from here. Next thing she'd
BBC SH - Reunion - LestradeHis phone rang.BBC SH - Reunion - Lestrade3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Lestrade sighed and reached for it, noticing how Donovan looked over her shoulder at him from where she was driving the car. "Hello?"
"Sir," He recognised Evelyn's voice. Young, relatively new, he had recognised her potential when she first joined and helped her learn the ropes. As such Sergeant Evelyn 'Evie' Makepeace was fiercely loyal to him.
Even now after everything that had happened.
He sighed. "I'm not 'Sir' anymore Evie. I'm just Greg, remember?"
To her credit, Donovan tried not to look too smug at that.
"Whatever you say, Sir." Evie said, slightly darkly. "You need to get back, Sir. Fast."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Someone you need to see."
" . . . You'll want to see for yourself, Sir."
"Wha . . . Look, alright . . . We're an hour and fifteen minutes away. Tell whoever it is they might want to go away and come back later."
There was a pause.
"He said he'd wait."
Lestrade frowned. That did sound odd. Informers never lingered long at the Yard for fear they mig
BBC SH - Reunion - MycroftThe Diogenes Club was old. The dark wood panelling and the high ceilings marking it out as a relic of a bygone era.BBC SH - Reunion - Mycroft3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Rather like many of its inhabitants.
And like every old thing, it was a bit battered around the edges.
Normally, Mycroft Holmes saw the grandeur and the glory of the building's past.
But today, in the gloom of January with the rain pattering with insistent consistency against the window, Mycroft found it hard to ignore the flaking paint and chipped wood surrounding him.
But then again, the entire world seemed a little bit tarnished now.
He sat in the window seat, a glass of brandy cradled in his lax fingers, gazing numbly down at the hooded and umbrella-d figures hurrying along in the street outside.
The door opened and closed quietly; informing him that someone else had entered The Stranger's Room.
He raised his brandy to his lips and gave it a sip.
The figure moved towards the window, following Mycroft's line of sight.
They stood in silence for a moment.
Then a low voic
BBC SH - Reunion - OpheliaThe sterile tunnels of the London Underground were familiar territory for Ophelia. She had trod the paths to Oxford Circus and Liverpool Street and Mornington Crescent so often that frequently she did not even open her eyes. Just let her feet guide her.BBC SH - Reunion - Ophelia3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
She knew every crack in every tile, every dot of gum on the floor, the optimum places for the musicians who performed in the winding passageways to stand to achieve the best harmonics.
And today, with the January rain streaming off her purple hair to run in rivulets down her clothes, Ophelia Holmes trod those tunnels for the last time.
In her damp hand- protectively wrapped in a clear, plastic bag- she had a plane ticket to Canada.
The flight was due to leave at 03:45 tomorrow morning.
She'd never really thought about her country much. In her heart she knew that no matter where she ended up she would always be English. The same way that Anya, despite her Ontario accent, would always be the girl from Archangelsk. Despite the million char
LostThe two men were relaxing on the leather sofa, the sun seeping in through the moth-nibbled curtains. Particles of dust floated aimlessly through the air.Lost3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It was a lazy Wednesday.
No good programs on the telly.
The overall atmosphere was quite dismal and warm.
Sherlock paused before responding.
Nothing to deduce. Nothing to pick apart.
"Why? You afraid I hid another cow appendix in your dresser? 'Cause I didn't."
John smiled faintly at the joke. Even though it wasn't a joke. There had been a cow appendix in his dresser before. He wasn't very fond of it.
"No, no...it's not that."
Sherlock leaned his head back and gazed up at the ceiling. "Let's see...you've been abducted, covered from head to toe in semtex, run through the streets of scary-ole-London at midnight while being chased by the police, been in the army, shot and killed a man...what does that leave?"
John looked blankly over at the window, gripping Sherlock's arms he had wrapped around him tig
And Found"I'm afraid I'll lose you, Sherlock..."And Found3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Where did this come from? Everything had been perfect between them up until now.
John seemed to have been enjoying himself. Their midnight sprints through the street, the pranks they'd pulled on his brother (make sure you observe before eating a doughnut that's clearly been filled with mayonaise instead of custard next time, Mycroft,) their early morning dinners, late night breakfasts- surely John loved every minute of it? How could anybody not be addicted to such a fast-paced life?
John isn't just 'anybody.'
But how does he not see that?
How can he call himself boring when he's one of the most anti-pedestrian people in the country? In the world?
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah. Exactly. Brilliant. Pure brilliance. Mystery solved, my Dear Watson.
"You broke me."
John's brow furrowed and his nose cr