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
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 - Freak5 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
Incant and Deduct Part 3 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 3-In which the author discovers 'plot'Incant and Deduct Part 3 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Whispering started early on the Thursday morning. Carl Powers, second year Hufflepuff, had never made it to his common room or dormitory the night before. At first Sherlock didn't think much of it; kids were always getting lost. Still, it was usually the first years who took wrong turns on the staircases or got led astray by some of the cheekier ghosts. A second year, missing all night was not unprecedented, but it still wasn't normal.
By first break the whispers had increased, become distorted and salacious as long hours passed and Carl had not returned with a bashful smile or delivered to the infirmary with some minor injury.
"Someone saw him going down to the lake, is what I heard. He's a swimmer, you know...."
"I heard he's been visiting the head of Hufflepuff loads and he went to see the headmaster the other day. Wonder what that's about?"
"His parents were splitting up..."
"There are an awful lot of corrid
BBC Sherlock - UndercoverSince he had started living with Sherlock Holmes, Dr. John Watson had gotten used to coming home to strange sights.BBC Sherlock - Undercover5 years ago in Humor More Like This
However, he had to admit to himself as he stood in the doorway, this one took first prize for out-and-out weirdness.
Okay, this one even beats the time I came home to find him systematically nailing himself to the floor by his clothes. And the time I found him re-enacting a black magic ritual to get inside the mind of a murderer. Come to think of it, you can still see the chalk from that pentagram on the floor. I'm surprised Mrs Hudson never said anything about that . . . Oh, and then there was that time with the dead octopus . . .
John was well aware he was doing a lot of mental babbling, but the alternative was that he consciously took in the fact that Sherlock Holmes, the world's only consulting detective, was currently being laced into a corset by his eldest niece and her friends.
Sherlock wheezed out an expletive. "Chr-ist! Gently Squid!"
"Sorry Mr. Ho
BBC Sherlock - The Bored SongIf you're bored and you know it shoot a wall! (boom, boom)BBC Sherlock - The Bored Song4 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)
Incantations and Deductions Chapter ElevenChapter ElevenIncantations and Deductions Chapter Eleven4 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
Incantations and Deductions Chapter TwelveThe expression of shocked surprise on Sherlock's face would almost be comical if John felt anything like laughing. Someone died after jumping from John's window: of course Sherlock would want to check out the room. Obviously Sherlock's surprised that anyone as 'dull and mundane' as John could have worked out his plans.Incantations and Deductions Chapter Twelve4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John." Sherlock begins and then seems to just stop.
John rolls his eyes. "It's alright, I know why you're here, I'm not going to bother you, just wanted to make sure you didn't do any weird experiments on my stuff."
Sherlock just nods, seemingly nervous. He doesn't move; it's as if his feet are rooted to the rug he's standing on.
"Aren't you going to get on with it, then?" John asks. He knows his tone is blunt, and if he's honest, verging on rude, but he's not the one who has just broken into someone else's room. It seems especially egregious after nine months of no contact between the two of them.
"Well, I-" Sherlock starts again and then breaks off his eyes darting up
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 One5 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
Incant and Deduct Chapter 9Chapter NineIncant and Deduct Chapter 94 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John is determined.
This year will be different. He isn't going to let the incident affect his life anymore. It had happened nine months ago, it was time to get over it.
He's going to move back into the Gryffindor dorm. He is, he is. He's a fifth year now he can't sleep in his own cordoned off bedroom because he has pathetic nightmares. He'll be taking his O.W.Ls at the end of the year; he's damn well not going to wimp out, crying off due to illness.
It's not as if he's actually ill, really, the twinge in his leg is nothing, and yes, he has a hideous scar on his shoulder but the physical therapy he's been doing over summer has meant that he has managed to strengthen his muscles. He might even make it back onto the Quidditch team; they've been doing abysmally since John has been unable to fulfil his role as keeper. And he's been doing really well getting back to the old John Watson, the Quidditch keeper and good friend, rather than the shadowy stranger he had bec
BBC Sherlock - StudentsDr. John Watson shook his head in bemusement as he entered the flat.BBC Sherlock - Students5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He could smell food, Carbonara if he wasn't mistaken. This could only mean one thing.
One of Sherlock's lesser known but more endearing habits was his tendency, when a case had been solved, to make up for his lack of eating and sleeping during his investigation. Running on the glee and adrenaline high of being proved right, he would go whipping around the kitchen like a whirlwind as he ate half his body-weight in food before crashing on the sofa and sleeping for about twenty hours solid. As the detective found the depression and boredom of inactivity began to sink in soon after, John had learned to savour the time while it lasted as soon after he knew Sherlock would be shooting holes in the walls again.
As John entered their front room, his eyes were automatically drawn to the sofa.
Sherlock was curled up on the sofa in an angular tangle of elbows, knees and lanky legs. He was snoring quietly, one hand resting on Glad
BBC SH - The Irregulars' Epilogue - ALife goes on.BBC SH - The Irregulars' Epilogue - A4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
In so many ways. And sometimes endings must happen. For better or for worse.
The Ghost of Covent Garden case was the beginning of an ending for the Irregulars.
Ophelia dropped out of university soon afterwards; there was nothing to keep her there now. She began to work with Sherlock and John near immediately.
Apparently the arrest and prosecution rate of Lestrade's team was higher than every other division in Scotland Yard for a good ten years afterwards, as a result of the two Holmeses working together.
Due to her odd hours, meeting up was hard.
This was not aided by Joey.
The voice coach, despite her initial shock at the fate of Arthur Hall, adored Joey and with proper tutoring her voice became moulded into an example of auditory perfection.
The Irregulars, even Ophelia, made it to her first performance as a member of an operatic chorus. And to her first minor lead role. And her first major lead role.
But they didn't meet up as much socially anymore.
Life was getting in
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
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
Tabletop PinnedTabletop Pinned3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Oh…yes!" Sherlock shouted, clapping his hands together and smiling triumphantly. "Of course he would do that, he can't help but gain back the confidence he feels that he's lost from the castration so–oh yes! It all makes so much sense!"
"Sherlock! What makes sense?" Lestrade said, raising his voice in the hopes of shaking Sherlock from his excited daze.
"Collins is going to the place where it all happened. To him it's symbolic justice."
"Which is where…?" John asked, looking at Lestrade, equally bewildered by Sherlock's epiphany.
"Oh for God's sake. Have none of you been paying attention? The Tube!"
Lestrade's eyes widened and he immediately whipped his mobile from his pocket.
"I need a team at the South Kensington Tube station immediately. Yeah. It's urgent. We've got a embezzling murderer hiding out there, waiting for his next victim. Go. Hurry. I'll meet you there." He turned to Sherlock. "Any further tips on where to look?"
Sherlock scoffed. "Believe me. Not an
Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 2 (BBC Sherlock/ Harry Potterverse)Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Even though Sherlock was fairly assured of his new friendship with John Watson he didn't expect John to come and talk to him at breakfast in the Great Hall on Monday morning. John only ate breakfast at the same time as other students four days out of seven, as the Gryffindor Quidditch team practiced on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays before lessons. Usually John would eat his breakfast and then chat with his (many) friends in Gryffindor or read whatever the owl had brought him.
Today though John sits down on the bench next to Sherlock, still eating a round of toast with jam, a cheerful "Good morning" mumbled around the bread. Sherlock is so surprised he closes the book he's reading (Brewing Charmed Possets from Everyday Kitchen Ingredients by Delilah Smythe) without marking the page.
"Morning." Sherlock replies. He's is acutely aware that all the students around them, particularly those sitting by the spot
Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HPIt occurs to Sherlock while hurtling down the corridor, that he and John didn't even have to exchange a look before they started sprinting in the direction of the screaming. That probably meant something; either that they were completely in tune with each other or equally barmy enough to run towards potential danger.Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They found the source of the scream on one of the main corridors; surprisingly it was Rachel Howells, the vindictive little idiot who'd nearly killed John last year. Unsurprisingly she was overacting, Sherlock could see it as he and John round the corner and jog towards the small group that was slowly forming around her.
The scream was in response to a message, daubed on the wall, in what looks suspiciously like blood. Much too suspiciously like blood. Sherlock is itching to get a sample of the stuff.
"Oh god..." John whispers under his breath as he reads the message. Sherlock can't help reflecting the sentiment in his own mind. Not because he thought for one mo
SherlockI was calling your name.Sherlock4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
My whole existence revolved around that one name, that name that always appeared to be readied inside my throat, ready to escape my lips at any moment.
Whether questioningly, or with exasperation, admiration or with frustration; your name was the one that was always there.
It was your name that I heard the most.
People talk about you a lot.
It's your other names that I hear as well.
It was the tones with which they say it, the slight hesitations or intonation of their voices as they say your syllables. It brings with it their feelings towards you.
But now I am screaming your name with pure and total fear.
It is omniscient, consuming, terrifying to hear. It shakes my core and being, my morals are shaken and spiralling and I feel anger building in my veins in foresight of what could've happened.
What, surely, can't have happened?
I am falling to my knees involuntarily. Meaning wavers and slips from your name, it becom
Incant and Deduct Part 6The next morning John is in a fairly good mood when he first opens his eyes and is met with a room bathed with late autumn sun. Mondays means extra time in bed as he doesn't have to haul himself off for an early breakfast before Quidditch practice. Then he remembers the events of the previous evening and his good mood dissipates somewhat.Incant and Deduct Part 65 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Not that there was anything particularly distressing about his interview with Mycroft Holmes. Even though he'd been collected by a frankly eerie looking assistant (pointy face, stick thin to the point of being a broom handle, that straight blonde hair that marked her out immediately as former Slytherin fodder, immaculate white robes that John would manage to get dirty by simply looking at them if he were the one forced to wear them) and taken on a frankly baffling tour through back corridors, side passages, courtyards and possibly even a fourth dimension or three until they reached the room Mycroft had appropriated for their 'lit
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 Two5 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 - 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 SH- Great Wall of PillowsJohn Watson knew for a fact he was a boring sleeper.BBC SH- Great Wall of Pillows4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Despite Sherlock's many quips about his snoring shaking plaster dust off the ceiling, John still was certain that his flatmate was joking and that in fact he was a placid, uneventful snoozer.
Sherlock however slept only sporadically. And when he did he would wriggle and mumble to himself in his sleep, as well as clutching onto anything within the reach of his sleepy arms and cuddling into it contentedly. But, even with John's firm guidance Sherlock could only be coaxed into a semi-regular sleep pattern and even then only when there was no case to be had.
John got the feeling however that this was not to be one of those nights.
They had spent the entire day chasing around Manchester in the course of a case and they had only resolved the matter after a tense chase through the city that had involved Sherlock misjudging a rugby tackle which sent him and the suspect flying into the River Mersey.
It was December. It was freezing. It
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
Lestrade and Laryngitis"So, when is the divorce final?" Sherlock asked, one eyebrow raised.Lestrade and Laryngitis4 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