SH: After the Bombs ChapterIIILestrade had never particularly warmed to John Watson. He felt no real dislike for the man, more a disinterest. And Lestrade had never understood why Sherlock had suddenly decided to work with this army doctor. He seemed to bring no new knowledge to the table and merely played into Sherlock's vanity by regularly complimenting the - admittedly impressive - deductions the man made. Lestrade had suspected John Watson had been a tool to annoy the police. Something they should object to and something Sherlock could then demand to keep near him, thus showing them all that Sherlock Holmes was too important to obey the rules.SH: After the Bombs ChapterIII5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes had not changed in the 4 - nearly 5 - years Lestrade had known him. His brilliance was the only thing that made Lestrade swallow his anger time and time again. The truth was, sometimes - just sometimes - he needed Sherlock's help. And he could swallow his pride and bear the insults, because at the end of the day Sherlock would help Lestrade solve the case.
SH: After the Bombs Chapter ISherlock was staring at John. The conversation was one-sided, but that was nothing new. As was John's vacant stare. Sherlock was sitting in his own chair, leaning back while staring at John's gleaming forehead. Sherlock's hands were under his chin, fingertips touching. He did this so often he was scarcely aware of doing it now.SH: After the Bombs Chapter I5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Without warning, Sherlock leaped to his feet. Suddenly irritated by John's silence. Stepping on the coffee table to get to the couch, Sherlock deliberately didn't look at the plastic face that seemed to be accusing him of not caring about people. Sherlock let himself fall on the couch and rolled over on his side, his back turned to the room. But mainly turned to John.
Sherlock couldn't remember why he had kept the dummies, but he'd had both of them stuffed in his bedroom closet. He'd put John's dummy in John's chair, telling himself he'd simply done that to have something to bounce ideas off. And honestly, the dummies input was about as useful as John's input ha
ComfortComfort4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Molly looked from the door to her kitchen at the man who was clearly too tall for his chair. She was used to being ignored by him in the lab, not talking to her or even looking as she would hand him what ever tool he asked for. But that was usually in front of a microscope, and this This was after an impossible situation. One that she herself would not be able to get through on her own.
Sherlock seemed determined to be alone.
Leaving John would possibly be the hardest thing Sherlock would ever have to do in his life. Knowing that John would have to go through every day believing his best friend had killed himself right in front of him made Molly want to shove Sherlock out the door and straight back to Baker Street. It was hard to look at him. Just sitting there. Like nothing mattered. Not anymore.
His voice surprised her. It was oddly calm and emotionless. Not that Sherlock talk with emotion before, but this was just Empty.
"I'm sorry," Molly said, walking
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)
The Art of TrollingThe Blog of Dr. John WatsonThe Art of Trolling4 years ago in Humor More Like This
He was my best friend and I'll always believe in him.
Hi sexy, it's me again. I'm bored. Let's play.
Rich Brook(geddit?) 29 June 15:23
I didn't actually shoot myself in the face, you know. Obviously.
Rich Brook(geddit?) 30 June 12:20
I've got your adorable conversation with Johnny-boy recorded on my phone, you know. Maybe I'll post it to Youtube.
Rich Brook(geddit?) 30 June 12: 34
"I want you to tell Lestrade, tell Mrs. Hudson, tell Molly – in fact, tell anyone who will listen to you that I INVENTED Moriarrrteeeee for MY OWN P URPOSESSS"
Rich Brook(geddit?) 30 June 12:36
And so forth. Amirite?
Rich Brook(geddit?) 30 June 12:40
Incant and Deduct Part 8John was pretty excited about Christmas for once. Usually Christmas meant boring family occasions, Harry throwing a tantrum and eating too much. It was probably because his birthday was fairly close to Christmas anyway; he just couldn't get very excited. This year was different. This year the Triwizard Tournament meant he'd been able to meet up with his friends from Durmstrang (the ones on the Quidditch team and a few of the boys he'd met in the summer dragon training in Romania.) There was the prospect of watching the Triwizard tournament itself in the New Year. The school had decided that they would postpone it till January in response to the death of Carl Powers. And of course there was the Yule Ball. He was looking forward to an enjoyable occasion after the miserable business earlier on in the term, and it was nice to have an excuse to dance with Sarah.Incant and Deduct Part 84 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It didn't really surprise him that Sherlock wasn't exactly enthused about the whole thing. He'd only relented to John's nagging ve
SH: After the Bombs Chapter IVGood old John Watson never let any of his friends down. Loyal to a fault, he would do anything he could to help. Talk to powerful siblings, go to the police, and do it all again. Despite the fact that Sally Donovan clearly hated the idea of anyone willing to help Sherlock Holmes, she was willing to help John Watson. She was cursing Sherlock all the way through and being her aggressive self, but she did give John what he wanted.SH: After the Bombs Chapter IV5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Inspector Lestrade is at a crime scene," Donovan said as she shuffled through papers that clearly weren't her own. "But he did mention they found something." Donovan glanced at John. "Though I'm not sure if I should give you this information."
John let out a long sigh. "Donovan, Sherlock isn't the criminal, and we need to stop Moriarty."
"I know that," Donovan said, clearly trying to restrain herself, but as always she found that difficult when it came to Sherlock Holmes. "But you're talking about risking your life for him and he isn't worth it!"
John shook his
Incant and Deduct Part 4 SH HPIt's almost shamefully easy to get into the Hufflepuff common room then into Carl's former dorm. No one questions their presence or even seems to notice as a bespectacled, loping and unrecognizable Sherlock, cloaked John and a decidedly jumpy Greg head towards one of the many round doors which lead to the dormitories. The fact that they pass several students and no one pays them any heed is of no surprise to Sherlock. Everyone is understandably quiet, lost in their own thoughts. Some people are by themselves staring into space, some huddled in little groups, offering comfort.Incant and Deduct Part 4 SH HP5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
They pass quickly down the warren like corridor which leads to Carl's shared dorm. Fortunately the room is empty for the time being.
"If you'd told me what you were looking for," Greg is saying, "then I could have just got it for you." His arms are crossed over his chest and he's leaning against the four poster bed opposite from Carl's.
"Well yes, that's all very well and good, but I don't know what I'm
After the Fall"I've been expecting you," came a voice from behind the high-backed chair.After the Fall3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sebastian Moran stopped in the doorway, his heavy coat only half off.
"Knock it off, Jim, I've had a hard day," he muttered, shaking off the other coat sleeve and kicking off his boots.
"Oh, the little soldier had a tough day," the voice cooed sarcastically.
Sebastian hung up the coat, frowning slightly. The suicide had gone off without a hitch, so why did he have this sick feeling in the pit of his stomach?
"You kind of left me up there. Could've let me know I could disengage?"
The voice was silent.
"I said, you could've let me know," he repeated, his voice tinged with anger now.
The fire flickered, the only light source in the dusty old room. Sebastian peeled off his leather gloves, eyeing his prized kill, a Siberian tiger, mounted high on the wall.
"Hey, you listening?" Sebastian hissed, his ears burning a little. "You always let me know, what was the prob-"
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
SH: After the Bombs Chapter IIJohn swallowed. Desperately he looked around the room. Expecting an envelope or a phone. In his panic, John could only think of the last time Moriarty had send Sherlock a message. The case he had come to call The Great Game.SH: After the Bombs Chapter II5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Lestrade's brow furrowed. He looked at Sherlock then at John. He seemed unsure whether to show it to them. But eventually he signalled to someone standing behind Sherlock and John. It was Donavon. As usual she did little to disguise her hatred for Sherlock, however she didn't say anything and the short glance toward John told Sherlock this wasn't going to be pleasant.
Donavon handed over a small plastic evidence bag. Lestrade took it and held it up so both John and Sherlock could see its contents. It was a small scalpel. Clean and shining, but all the more terrifying for it.
John felt trepidation building inside, but he couldn't understand why. And why had Lestrade thought this was a message for Sherlock from Moriarty? It was just a knife, a scalpel, it was
ReichenbachOnce upon a time in a kingdom united,Reichenbach4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
The angels and the demons so furiously fighted.
They battled on concrete, traffic lights and jewels
And belived they were better, although they were fools.
Up in the tower the devil began his plan
For the angel to suffer, and so the angel ran.
Whispers from knights at a round table
Stopped believing in the poor angel's fable
The genius was broken; there's no going back,
One name with a reference to Reichenbach.
But what's in a name, my darling, my dear?
Moriarty or Brook, there's still plently to fear.
And he stood on the roof with the sun in his eyes
And the devil was waiting to say his goodbyes.
Three people, three bullets, but this is so dull;
The devil left this world with a hole in his skull.
It dawned on the angel what had to be done.
He flew from the roof in the morning sun.
For a moment he faltered; he felt he was flying
Whilst the doctor on the pavement began 3 years of crying.
His body was broken and the angel was go
Home- BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 1221B Baker St.Home- BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
You wondered if your brother, Sherlock, would be surprised to see you or if he would have anticipated your return. You hoped he’d be surprised as you adjusted the duffle over your shoulder. You rummaged around in the pocket of your military issue camouflage pants for the set of keys you always carried.
You hadn’t bothered to change when the plane had landed, instead opting to go straight home in uniform, pulling off your jacket to reveal the white tank top underneath so you could enjoy the cool London air.
Quickly unlocking the door, you forced yourself to take the stairs slowly and with the upmost stealth even though you were itching to bound up them excitedly. You carefully skipped the squeaky step, holding your dog tags so they wouldn’t clink together as you did, and came to a stop in front of the door. You caressed the knob lightly with a slight smile- Home.
It was unlocked you noted, meaning he was home or that Mrs. Hudson was cleaning, but t
Dead and Buried(After Reichenbach)Dead and Buried4 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
Ice - Mycroft x Reader (Chapter One)Mycroft Holmes was a busy man. He was constantly working, protecting the citizens of Britain and even though he only claimed to hold a ‘minor position’ everyone who knew him knew better than that.Ice - Mycroft x Reader (Chapter One)2 years ago in Drama More Like This
Mycroft’s life was surrounded by threats so much so that on occasion he would almost fear for his life. So when it came to you, the one thing that could thaw the heart of the ice-man, he wanted to keep you separate from his work as much as possible. He wanted to keep you safe and protected and innocent from the things he heard and saw.
However that proved harder and harder as your relationship became more serious: and now, Mycroft was internally going out of his mind while he maintained a calm façade.
You should have been home an hour ago.
For most relationships this would seem controlling, but you knew enough about Mycroft’s work to understand his reason to fret about you. So the fact that you hadn’t returned home or, after checking, had actually been see
Sherlock : TextsThank you. Please, take care of him. Watch after him SHSherlock : Texts4 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
Jim's Suicide Note"Oh, Mr Moriarty, you're so mean!"Jim's Suicide Note3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
That's what you're thinking now, isn't it? Wondering why I had to end the final problem. And Sherlock.
"Poor Sherlock Holmes! Look what you made him do!"
Well, sweetheart, ever thought of how I feel? I'm not walking away from this, either (except on the off chance something doesn't go according to plan). But you see, I don't have a choice. This is what I was born to do. Wolves hunt, birds fly, and I...well, verbs defy me, what can I say? Sherlock Holmes and I cannot both exist. But without one of us...well, the other'd get out of hand, wouldn't he? So if I have to go, curse it, I'm taking your dear detective with me. But it's not as simple as that. Oh, no. It can't be clean. That's a bit...anticlimactic, isn't it? And you know how I love a good story.
So I will make Sherlock Fall.
By now, it's already happened. Don't you just love today's media? It's almost too easy, my dear. He's a fake, he's a fake, he's a fake, and I win. No one besides me and you
The Reichenbach FallThe Reichenbach FallThe Reichenbach Fall4 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Together they fell
Through the dark abyss
Of heaven and hell
Rivers of red
Rivers of blue
It was a great fall
I'm telling you
Tears of loss
Tears of sorrow
It made one man
The Spider weaved his web
of hate and gore
And the Reichenbach hero
Was a hero no more
Sherlock : Dobrze wiedziec John Watson był wdowcem, ojcem, miał siedemdziesiąt lat i wciąż mieszkał na Baker Street z swoim nieprzewidywalnym współlokatorem Sherlockiem Holmesem. Przez te wszystkie lata wyprowadził się stąd tylko na krótki okres małżeństwa z Mary, ale po jej śmierci wrócił do tego domu wariatów. Potrzebował hałasu, wybuchów, części ciał w lodówce. Musiał mieć obok życie, nie tylko płacz dziecka. I Sherlock dawał mu dokładnie to, czego potrzebował.Sherlock : Dobrze wiedziec4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Spojrzał na przyjaciela, który w milczeniu mierzył sobie ciśnienie. Zaraz obok leżał glukometr. Dzisiaj wszystko było w porządku. Dobrze. Holmes ostentacyjnie połknął tabletki i spojrzał na niego, uśmiechając się sztucznie. Niemal się zaśmiał, codziennie odstawiali t
The StairwellEverybody worried about Amy losing her baby. Sometimes people forget Rory lost his baby as well.The Stairwell3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"How are you doing, Rory?" the Doctor asked. He'd found the young father sitting in a stairwell in a remote part of the Tardis.
Amy was busy fixing sandwiches for lunch. It had been three days since they'd left River with the Sisters of the Infinite Schism, and gradually things were getting back to normal.
Except things weren't normal.
Rory was hunched up on the stairs, sitting crossways, he was smoothing something over and over and over on his knee. He didn't look up. The Doctor sat down beside him. He saw what the boy was holding was the prayer leaf from River's cradle.
Rory looked up, his face was wet and red, his eyes puffy. He glared at the Doctor with very old eyes. "I'm never going to see her again."
"Oh, she'll come looking for us," the Doctor waved airily, knowing full well that's not what he meant.
"Not River," Rory said with that mile-deep calm. "My baby." A single tear tr
Puttering Around(11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River)Puttering Around3 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
All they wanted, was to play a little golf...
The Doctor wiggled his backside and lined up his shot very carefully. With a well measured tap he sent the ball rolling. And completely missed the cup.
"Hah!" Amy said, and licked her pencil, she wrote down his score with a flourish. "My turn!"
She grabbed her putter from where it leaned against a cheap plastic statue of an angel and flagrantly tapped her ball into the hole, it had been practically sitting on the rim anyway. "Par for me!" she said cheerily.
The Doctor pulled a grumpy face and glared down at the ground. "Yes, well, I'm used to playing on real grass, not this astroturffy stuff," he said, scuffing his boot on the thin prickly green carpet that lined the putt-putt lane.
"Break time!" Rory called as he and River wended their way through the convoluted courses of the miniature golf course. He held up a cardboard tray that held three drinks. River, beside him, held up a tray stuffed with chip
DaddySometimes River would catch Rory just staring at her. She knew he was looking for his daughter.Daddy2 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
Sometimes River would find Rory staring at her. He tried not to be obvious about it, but she could feel his eyes cataloging each of her features. Memorizing them, almost desperately drinking them down.
It was strange, she knew he was memorizing his daughter’s features. But this was Rory. She’d played tag with him as a child. Watched him being a total wet rag where it came to Amy and generally grew up with him, knowing him as the loyal but somewhat pathetic dork.
It was disconcerting to have him staring at her. Oh, she’d always known she was his daughter. It had been a bit of a secret joke when she was Mels. But now. Now it hurt. Because now he knew. He’d held her as an infant, and cried over how beautiful she was.
He had the heart and soul of a father. And she could never give him his baby back.
She felt his eyes on her again.
She turned abruptly in the
Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 1John bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. What was taking you so long? The scheduling board said you had arrived over 15 minutes ago and you were usually efficient and quick with moving to your next destination, so where were you?Observers- BBC Sherlock x Reader Chpt. 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Spying your older brother across the station, you crept up behind him with a mischievous grin and pounced on to his back. “You really need to be more observant, Johnny.”
He laughed and yanked you over his shoulder so he could sweep you up into a warm hug. “(F/n), you little brat! I was starting to worry. What took you so long?”
You giggled, pulling him to you tightly. “You always worry, you old worry wart. I was just delayed a bit. Arg It’s so good to see you!”
“It’s good to see you too, Squeak.”
He swept you off your feet again and you squealed, “John, put me down this second!”
When he wouldn’t, you poked his side lightly, causing him to
Sherlock : Goraco- Jooooohn...Sherlock : Goraco4 years ago in Humor More Like This
Lekarz poderwał głowę, a na biurko spadło kilka kropel potu. Ciemne zasłony, zawieszone w oknach sprawiały, że w pokoju panował przyjemny półmrok. W kącie pokoju warczał wentylator. Na dworze było ponad trzydzieści stopni.
Spojrzał na detektywa, który siedział nie, na wpół leżał w fotelu. Wyglądał prześmiesznie. Jak parodia samego siebie. Nie miał na sobie idealnie skrojonego garnituru, ani przyciasnej koszuli, której guziki zdają się trzymać na miejscu wbrew prawom fizyki.
Nie. Tego upalnego dnia Sherlock Holmes miał na sobie jedynie materiałowe szorty. I nic więcej.
- Tak? O co chodzi?
Detektyw jęknął żałośnie. Wyglądał jakby się roztapiał. Był cały mokry... John przełknął głośno śli