Pillow TalkPillow Talk3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Mm... why 'r'nt you sleep'n yet?"
"And why aren't you sleeping, John?"
"'m waitin' for you."
"Don't worry John, just go to sleep; I'll follow soon enough."
"I love you too, John."
I'm sorry, MycroftI'm sorry, Mycroft3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
He just stood there, hands in pockets, looking at his big brother as nothing had happened. Well, it was his usual look, the one that couldn't tell you much of the thoughts and emotions hidden behind those eyes. Actually, Mycroft was not much different, they were brothers after all and they were both extremely good at hiding feelings. So they were standing staring at each other trying to guess the following movement of one another. Sherlock expected everything, just everything, he never knew what could Mycroft do if his honour was wounded, and Sherlock was sure that it was. He hadn't told his brother about the plan, he had made him consider his little brother dead. It hurt, it definitely hurt. Not his feelings, but his pride. He had always been the person who knew everything about everyone. And now he was fooled by his own little brother. And that fact made the great Sherlock Holmes feel nervous. Like he was again five years old standing before his brother with his broken toy in one han
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
Freaky and his little Johnny - Prologue (ITA)Freaky and his little Johnny - Prologue (ITA)3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Anche quella sera pioveva.
Grosse nuvole si erano addensate due giorni prima, verso mezzogiorno, e da allora lo scroscio d’acqua non aveva smesso di battere sulle case.
Le strade erano tristi e vuote, nessuno aveva voglia di uscire con quel tempaccio, erano tutti rinchiusi in casa o in un pub, per rallegrarsi e scaldarsi in compagnia.
Bé, non proprio tutti.
Nelle cantine di una delle case più antiche della città un’ombra si muoveva lentamente, sola e infreddolita, facendo tintinnare lievemente le catene che la tenevano legata.
Dopo molti giri a vuoto della cantina, l’ombra finalmente si sedette in un angolo, quello più lontano dalla finestrella sbarrata che dava sulla strada.
Odiava quella finestrella.
Gli dava una visione del mondo esterno che, seppur ristretta, lo faceva stare male, perché lui, di un maschio si trattava, rinchiuso in quella cantina, non sarebbe mai potuto uscire.
E in più quando pioveva, spesso faceva entrar
Toby the Yogurt FinderToby the Yogurt Finder3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Sherlock?" John called out into the flat. When he was met with no response, he continued, "So, we've got a guest, who's going to be staying here for a few days."
The box he had picked up off of Park Street seemed to grow heavier in his arms.
"Okay." John heard Sherlock's voice from the kitchen. He must've been in the middle of an experiment, or else he wouldn't have sounded as uninterested. So John, a little relieved that he didn't have to confront Sherlock right at that moment, breathed a sigh of relief, put the box down, and opened it.
It took Sherlock two hours to notice, and whether it was due to Sherlock's intense focus on his experiment or Toby's quiet and docile behavior, John didn't know. But he didn't have to guess about Sherlock's reaction to Toby.
He had taken one look at him and said a definitive, "No," with the look of someone who was greatly vexed that they even had to voice their opinion at an idea so ludicrous.
"I know. We're not keeping him. Relax. I saw the number on
Oneword: MedicalOneword: Medical3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
The two Londoners had unknowingly pinned a Gallifreyan against a brick wall in a dark alley. Having caught him suspiciously breaking into a high-tech facility, Sherlock feared that the tall, gangly man in the tweed jacket had been another member of Moriarty's web. John, not familiar with the technology contained in the stranger's little green-bulbed instrument with extendable claws, had pointed his gun at him for a sense of safety.
"Whatever went wrong," pleaded the man, both hands in the air against the wall, "I can assure you with... um.. about eighty six percent certainty that it wasn't me. Probably."
John wrinkled his nose at Sherlock in confusion. "Who are you?" he demanded of the stranger, lowering his gun by a couple inches.
"I'm the Doctor," he claimed, eyes darting back and forth between the darkly-clad man whose cheekbones he could sympathize with, to a shorter blond man who would almost remind him of the Master's last form if not for his kind, tired eyes.
"Yeah right," snort
HAPPY NEW YEARHAPPY NEW YEAR4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock was already dressed and sitting in his armchair, reading, when John came downstairs for breakfast.
"How long have you been awake then?" John called from the kitchen, not even glancing in the detective's direction. Sherlock peered at the robed man over the top of his book and turned the page nonchalantly.
Sherlock's ears picked up the tell-tale chink of the kettle turning on before John started rummaging through the fridge for something even remotely edible.
"Sherlock, what happened to the fruit I bought yesterday?"
"I let Mrs Hudson use them for a pie she was making,"
John shut the refrigerator door with a snap and squeezed his eyes shut in silent frustration.
"So much for breakfast."
"There's a tub of cream cheese on the top shelf of the fridge,"
"Yeah, and would you consume an entire tub of cream cheese plain for breakfast?"
John just shook his head and turned the kettle off, tipping scalding hot liquid into his mug as he heard Sherlock turn
PleaseJohn is there again; at the cemetery. He spends a good deal of time there.Please3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
An "unhealthy amount" according to his therapist. But he doesn't really care what she thinks. He's really only going to a therapist so that his friends; mainly Lestrade and Ms. Hudson, don't worry about him to much. It's better to let them think he's recovering. They don't need to be fretting over him when they're battling their own grief.
He goes at least four times a week; and talks to Sherlock. There are so many things he never got the chance to say to Sherlock; so now he tells his tombstone. The cold marble just sits there silently; mocking him. Reminding him that no matter how much he talks; there will be no reply. But it doesn't stop him. He's not really religious; but he still likes to think that wherever Sherlock is; he can hear him.
"You know what I wanted most Sherlock? It's going to sound absolutely ridiculous.
It still seems a bit weird to me and it's something I've wanted since we survived the pool.
BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction - Revisiting The GraveThe gravel crunched softly beneath John's feet as he made his way up the path to the grave yard. Row after row of moss covered stones reared out of the encroaching night, and the evening chorus was fading into the dusk. Clutched under his arm was a ratty old tent clearly on its first outing for a very long time a blanket, pillow and a packet of digestives. In his other hand he held a large torch and a thermos of tea. He fumbled for a moment to open the gate to the church yard, and switched on his torch. Humming softly under his breath, he wandered towards a grave beneath an isolated tree, and stopped. Smiling at a person who wasn't visible, he seemed to be continuing a conversation with an old friend. "Well, what did you think I was going to do? Leave you on your own? It's or was your birthday " He paused for a moment; perhaps listening to a silent reply. When none came, he continued. "We had a sort of celebration you know; Molly came round,BBC Sherlock Fan Fiction - Revisiting The Grave3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
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)
Texts - Ch.2 BoredomTexts - Ch.2 Boredom3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Ch. 2 A Case of Boredom
-----It had been utter child's play. John hadn't even the chance to join him. The investigation and the clues came together so quickly that his flatmate had only managed to pop in toward the end to corner the culprit. Sherlock knew that John would want all the details for his blog. Everything from the drowning being a murder and the cover-up being an insanely quick and clean installation. Although the sleuth detested those who wished to inflict upon the world their horrible opinionated writing, Sherlock found John's detailed online diary an interesting insight into the man's opinions and personality. If anything it was a way for him to detect how John felt regarding his sociopath roommate.
-----Removing his mobile as he walked down Cherry Crossing, Sherlock thumbed through the contacts before sending a message to Mycroft.
Case solved. Unauthorized frozen fish trade. Embezzlement. Northbank Construction: 2nd line manager.
Naturally. John's Browning wil
SH: Sleeping With Sherlock Pt1SH: Sleeping With Sherlock Pt13 years ago in Humor More Like This
Sleeping With Sherlock - Part 1
John Watson was not a morning person; and the migraine pressing on the back of his eyes promised to make this one rougher than usual. Fortunately he'd remembered to pull the drapes last night before collapsing into bed, so the sun couldn't greet him with piercing needlepoints of light.
He laid there for a moment, keeping his breathing slow and relaxed as his head throbbed with the barest of movements. He'd have to down an Imitrex or two; sooner rather than later, if eating breakfast and hydrating didn't work. The medication made him feel strange, in a way he didn't care for at all, but it was the only thing that relieved his powerful headaches.
With that tentative schedule planned, he next concentrated on getting himself from the bed to the sitting room- a considerable feat, as the stairs were a part of that path. He allowed himself a soft grunt of pain as he cracked his eyelids open, his hands unfisting from the sheets.
Asperger'sAsperger's3 years ago in Drama More Like This
"You know, he's secretly pleased to see you here."
"Yeah, he likes to see familiar faces together. It appeals to his "
The large pile of papers made a satisfyingly large thumping sound as they hit the bottom of the recycling bin.
John smirked, rubbing his hands against the knees of his jeans in an attempt to rid them of the inevitable dust and dirt. Slowly, he stood up, straightening with a grimace, stretching his back after long hours of cleaning. Looking around the room, John saw progress.
The room was far cleaner than it had been in the morning. John, finally convinced Sherlock to move his most important papers into a cabinet and allow John to throw out or organize th
Sherlock : TextsThank you. Please, take care of him. Watch after him SHSherlock : Texts3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Oh, I know. I'll water him twice a week Molly
Don't, Molly. Don't try to joke SH
Sorry - Molly
How is he? SH
Depressed. He misses you Molly
I knew he would. SH
How about you? How are you? Molly
Bored. And terrified by food. That bigos thing looks strange SH
Oh! I heard it's good! Fetch me some? Molly
How? I won't be in London for... I don't know how long SH.
Here, have a picture of bigos SH
You're right. It looks strange Molly
He got himself a puppy Molly
Oh God. It's worse than I thought SH
Yup. It's a bulldog. Gladstone! It's drooling everywhere and it's rather lazy Molly
He should have gotten himself a Labrador. At least he didn't call him Sherlock SH
He was thinking about it. I told him it was stupid Molly
Thank you SH
He has a girlfriend Molly
Her name is Mary. She's nic
Sherlock and the Baby pt 1"Stop sulking around like a child," John Watson scolded, turning over the page he was reading. His flatmate ignored him and stood at the window.Sherlock and the Baby pt 15 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Nothing's happening," he stated, observing the events out of the window. "It's sickening."
"Here's an idea; why don't you answer your brother's calls?" Sherlock scoffed at this. Folding the paper, the blonde turned to look at his flatmate. "He's called four times in the past hour alone. It might be important."
"Oh I'm sure it is. Top secret government project something or rather," Sherlock turned and flopped down effortlessly onto the couch. "I'm not dealing with his problems. They're boring."
This answer wasn't much of a surprise, but John sighed and shook his head just the same. "It's not as though you have anything better to be doing."
Picking up his violin from beside the sofa, Sherlock took it from its case and plucked a few strings indignantly. "I do so."
John stood up and threw his paper on the seat as he walked towards the kitchen. "R
I Could Watch You For A LifetimeI Could Watch You For A Lifetime3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Running, running, more running. Thats what most of John's days now consisted off, that and watching the back of Sherlock's tailcoat, and broad shoulders, and slim waist, and....He always did this, getting caught up in Sherlock's appearance, but how could one not? With those tall cheekbones, sharp, silver eyes, and full lips....He did it again. He knew it wasn't healthy, he would never do more than look at Sherlock, but he was content to do that for the rest of his lifetime.
Sherlock and John stopped to breathe as their chase of the china-vase-thief was brought to an end, by cornering him into Lestrade's waiting people. Their breathe's came out heavy as both tried to regain their posture and John let out a chuckle at their struggle. Sherlock caught his eye and laughed once enjoying the way John's mouth turned at the edges with his grin and the small lines around his eyes crinkled. Once they f
Four patch problem?It wasn't often that John Watson woke up in the middle of the night for reasons not concerning his nightmares.Four patch problem?4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The nightmares had certainly woken him up, screaming into his pillow for soldiers lost, but there was something that was keeping him from drifting off again.
From his little room upstairs, John woke to hear the sounds of Sherlock stirring in his sleep. He sat on the edge of his bed, head in his hands, just for a few seconds so that he could slowly wake up before investigating further.
Sherlock didn't even try sleeping most nights; he'd just stay up with his cases, or his experiments. After almost a week of sleepless nights, he'd cave in. Rarely in his own bed. John, if ever he got up in the night, which was likely, would often find Sherlock asleep in the oddest of places. Most unusually on the sofa, but other times, his flat-mate would be snoring gently on the kitchen floor, perhaps not quite making it to the fridge or the sink, and letting his tiredness overrule his defiance
John's Best Man 3-New Message.John's Best Man 3-3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
HEARD YOU COMMITED A MURDER.
BORED AGAIN, LITTLE BROTHER?
Sherlock scowled at his mobile that had pinged shrilly against his chest from its resting place in his inside jacket pocket. He sat back on his ankles, peering over the dead girl's body. He had insisted that nobody moved her, just in case evidence was being hidden from view. Around him, the crowd had dispersed, but replaced them were some of Scotland Yard's best people: Lestrade and Anderson. Lestrade was standing far back, as though standing too close to Sherlock would cause him to singe. Sherlock tossed John his phone.
"Don't bother replying," Sherlock grumbled, teasing a pair of latex gloves over his hands.
YOUR FLATMATE NOT KEEPING
YOU ENTERTAINED ANYMORE?
John scanned the text, opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. Sherlock grunted his thoughts then narrowed his eyes, like a sniper homing in on his target. There were some stragglers, two voluptuous elderly woman
The Sound of Falling CatCrackle-crackle-monotonevoice-cracke-crackle-hiss-crackle-crackle-crackle-giggle-crackle-crackle-crackle-MRAOW!-crunch-wheezinglaugh-CRACKLE.The Sound of Falling Cat3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock's brows creased an increment closer together, but his eyes remained closed and he made no move to alter his posture on the sofa in any way. Whatever John was watching would be closed in a few seconds, as soon as he finished laughing, and the grating, tinny sound of a home-made clip of what he could assume was a cat of some description - through small laptop speakers would cease, leaving him to drift off into silent pondering once again...
As the frustratingly terrible sound of the clip ground itself across the room again, Sherlock cracked one eye open lethargically and peered over to the source of the disturbance.
John sat in his armchair with his laptop perched upon his knees, one hand poised over the laptop mouse, the other propping up his head and the ri
Sherlock Holmes: I'll Admit ItHe'd say that it was worth the wounds.Sherlock Holmes: I'll Admit It4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I was rudely woken by someone slapping me, shaking me, calling my name. I'd figured it all out. I knew Blackwood's plans and I knew how to stop him. I knew the reasons why everything had happened. I'd finally managed to drift off into a somewhat uneasy sleep, but at least I was sleeping. So who was this person and why wouldn't they leave me alone?
I opened my eyes. I blinked. My mouth dropped open. It couldn't be.
He smiled at me, looking no worse than he had days before. His arm was in a sling, yes. He had burns on him, abrasions, bruises, but he was here, and he was smiling at me. In those few moments after he woke me, I completely lost myself. Whether or not I was still drugged, I do not know, but I sat up faster than he could push me back down again and wrapped my arms around him tightly. He was sat, stiff backed, not sure what to do. I didn't care. I gripped his jacket and buried my face in his chest, breathing in his smell. Af
AkuRoku- ObsessedIt's a crimeAkuRoku- Obsessed5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It's a crime
It's a shame
It's a crime
Roxas sat in his bedroom on the bed, his leg bouncing impatiently. He should have been here by now Roxas thought, looking at the clock that said 2:00 a.m.
I'm climbing the walls
Losing my mind
It's all your fault
Roxas stood up and began pacing, switching from looking out the window to the street below, to the red numbers on the clock.
I'm breaking the rules,
don't really care
if I get caught.
The blonde walks to his bedside table, picks up the phone, and sets it down again. No. He said he'll be here. Roxas reminded himself.
Can't you tell that I'm in love, love, love,
can't get enough of you.
Need you night and day.
When you're not around, I'm tested
I could get arrested,
carrying on this way.
Roxas runs his hands through his spiky blonde hair and runs into the bathroom, splashing his face with cold water. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, a light-skinned boy with big blue eyes, golde
Can I Keep You?Can I Keep You?: A BBC Sherlock AU Fic.Can I Keep You?3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters.
A giant grey eye peered curiously over the dominion of insects through an old magnifying glass. A little boy, no more than five, crouched in the dull green grass on his knees as he steadied himself with his free hand. He crawled forward an inch or two, rubbing grass stains into the threads of his designer jeans, as he followed a small, hairy caterpillar through the tall blades. He studied its movement and behavior patterns through the glass his parents had given him for his birthday that year.
The boy set the magnifying glass on the ground and brushed the dark, curly hair from his brow so he could keep the bug in his sights. He pried his eyes away for a second to grab a clear, plastic cup with an aerated lid at his side. He opened it, threw in a fistful of grass, and placed it in front of the caterpillar's path so it would crawl in of its own accord.
The boy smiled, his nose crinkling sli
Sherlock Holmes: I'll Admit ItIs that the best you can do?Sherlock Holmes: I'll Admit It4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The case was over. Blackwood was dead. Everything had returned to normal, save one thing. 221B Baker Street was empty and lonely. John had been gone for what seemed an eternity. Mrs Hudson had tried to assure me several times that it hadn't been much longer than a week, but the monotony of everyday made it feel like so much longer. The dear fellow had left Gladstone with me, something I had suspected would happen anyway. No doubt the future Mrs Watson would want new animals to take care of. Only the best for the future wife of the man I love, I suppose, but I still felt that bitter resentment I reserve only for the female of our species. John loved this dog, and I knew that the hound so terribly missed his old master. All I could do was to keep him from lying about and dwelling on the thought of it too much, which I do believe helped my mind to steer clear from it also.
On one particularly unpleasant morning, I found myself waking on the bare mattres
Sherlock and John - An OutingTo be honest the outing had been my idea. I will confess to that now as to clear up any quarrel later on.Sherlock and John - An Outing4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
We were in between cases, just finished the blind banker murder and Sherlock was bored.
Mrs. Hudson had packed us a marvellous little picnic; she does too much for us that woman. I had grabbed Sherlock's coat and scarf and entered the kitchen where he was busy doing an experiment, he'd just spilt some acid on himself and was dancing about as he pushed his way to the kitchen sink.
I watched him turn the tap on and rinse his hand, the momentarily tenseness leaving him as the cold water cooled his hand from irritation.
"Iodine, nothing serious, just a bit tingly" He stated, his back still turned from me as he continued to wash his hand.
I open my mouth to question his usage of the chemical and his apparent lack of gloves but then I close it. There is no point today. Anyway, I actually have something better planned than a day of bantering back and forth. I let myself