Sherlock: Sick and tired. 1 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 1 Of 62 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter One: Sleeping next to you.
"John?" A rough voice called my name from my door, half asleep I roll over to see Sherlock watching me. His thin frame covered by a white sheet.
"What is it Sherlock?" I asked fighting the urge to close my eyes and fall back into a deep sleep.
"I wanted to ask you," He swallows a bit wincing at the pain he must have felt in his throat; I could tell he was sick. He looked paler than normal, his hair a mess and his face a bit flushed at the cheeks.
"If it would be alright if I stayed in your bed to night." I wasn't expecting that. Maybe for him to ask me for tea or to check to see what he had since I was a doctor, anything but him asking to come in bed with me. I would have said no any other night but him standing there by my door made him look like a child wanting to crawl into bed with his parents for comfort.
"Alright," I said shifting around in my bed to come loose from the sheets that I managed to twist around my body in s
All the Stuffed Animals at the FairAll the Stuffed Animals at the Fair2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Summary: The second Phil laid eyes on the green teddy bear perched atop of his desk he knew Barton was up to something. He just wasn't sure what.
All the Stuffed Animals at the Fair
It was dark outside and a cold wind and slow drizzle set the stage as they waited for their target to arrive. Everyone was alert, finger-on-the-trigger and ready to obey the first order given to them. Until then, lines were ordered into radio-silence.
"So, what's your favorite color, Sir?"
Phil Coulson resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He knew radio-silence meant nothing to Clint Barton unless the situation deemed it absolutely necessary. Absolutely necessary in Clint's opinion, that is, and since that always differed from his own, this was not a new situation of any kind. "Radio-silence, Agent Barton."
Clint's huff was loud and clear over the comm. "That's not exactly a color, Sir."
"The target is nearing from the south-east at rapid speed, Sir." Someone suddenly warned, voice a whisper ove
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 3Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 32 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious?
Chapter Three: Perfect Sherlock being perfect, John thought,
Mycroft sat in his office bored looking out over London out his window. Such a tedious job watching over his brother all the time but what else was he to do, Sherlock need to be looked after. Constantly putting him-self in danger and gallivanting around like he was bullet proof.
Mycroft sighed picking his mobile off his desk but there was nothing new just yet to distract him for a few hours so he found himself looking through his contacts. He found Greg's name popping out to him and he found himself grinning as he started to text.
How are you this evening? MH
Mycroft waited for a reply that took nearly ten minutes to come to him.
Mycroft, do you have any idea what time it is? GL
Mycroft grinned shifting to cross his legs.
I am very aware of the hour, how are you? MH
His reply came three minutes later; Lestrade was shifting around since Mycroft had woken him. Mycroft found him thinking of a half-na
Hearts (prelude/Chapter 1)John looked up from his notebook and looked across the playground. A small, somber boy, probably around the age of six, was looking steadily back at him. John eyed him curiously from the other side of the playground, across the sea of children yelling and playing. The other boy seemed to be trying to read his mind from across the playground. John shook his head slightly, trying to shake off the younger boy's gaze. He turned back to his notebook, and realized that he had been sketching without noticing. Blushing slightly, he realized his hand had drawn a truly excellent sketch of the younger boy across the playground. He glanced up at the other boy who was smirking as if he knew exactly what John had been doing. John's eyes flickered down to his notebook and then back up, but when his glance returned to the opposite side of the playground, the boy was gone. John had no idea who he was or why he had been watching John. He shook his head once again and returned to his notebook.Hearts (prelude/Chapter 1)2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
It was the
Sherlock: Sick and tired. 6 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 6 Of 62 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter Six: That Was Alright With Me, Everything Was Alright.
I wake with a start, breathing hard my limbs shaking. I cannot process my surroundings, I am to in shock, the dream I had I couldn't remember but I knew it was beautiful but what did I dream of? I had no clue. The last thing I remembered was Sherlock tied to a chair and a gun shoot. Am I at the hospital? I look around but I'm not in the hospital, had I dreamed about the whole thing?
I blink a few times realizing I was in Sherlock's bedroom, his bed my stomach flutters with a million butterflies. What happened to me, how was I here, how long of a time period had gone by. I couldn't tell.
"John, you are awake," I turn to see Sherlock standing in his door way, his cell phone in one hand. He was dressed in his usual attire, his blazer button up, slacks and shoes. His hair neatly in place but his eyes were so tired looking, and blood shot. He looked generally surprised that I was awake at the moment.
Thinking of You Part 2Thinking of You Part 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
There it was. That look of being defeated. Suddenly Steve felt a new confidence he'd never felt hardly before in his life, glancing to the door it was closed, he had only one chance with both of them here alone. Taking a step to Tony they were already in a close proximity, he leaned down, and could already see the other starting to tense up. He was taking a pretty big risk here because if Tony didn't feel the same way.. Tony may never speak to Steve again. But he was willing to take that chance, "Tony, theres...something I need to tell you." His voice was shaking a bit as he looked down at the man. Tony just stared, only nodding slightly, maybe that was a good sign? "...W-Well.. You see over time I've come to find myself growing more and more close to you. Since Bucky had already enlisted- but you know that. I told you that. I've shared...so much with you I never though I would with anyone. Even Bucky. But I did...you had gotten me to feel..so comfortable in my old body...and en
Sherlock: Sick and tired. 3 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 3 Of 62 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter Three: Anything for you.
Sherlock had not tried to leave the house in two days which I do give him credit for since he was not a person easily contained. Though he has started to wear holes into the floors from is pacing, it was obviously getting to him being inside, and he even got dressed this morning in his usual attire.
But his body was still fighting with him so it didn't take long for him to have to sit down then curl up in my lap as I watched telly. His head was resting in my lap my hand on his thin shoulder if we were anyone else. Any other two people in the world we would look romantic. I look down at his head trying not to think, wanting to run my fingers through his damp hair but instead I pulled the covers over him he was still fighting his fever and his throat seemed to be at a standstill.
I knew I needed to take him out soon; he needed to get some fresh air. I knew this but I felt uncertain, I think I was a bit scared he was catch somethi
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 2Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 2
Part Two: Is It Alright If I Come Home?
John stares down at the folder in his hands, it wasn't bulky but it kept John attention. His palms were sweaty when he opened it up. There wasn't much in there just a small stack of surveillance pictures. John takes them from the folder and looks them over.
The first few are of a blur image going in and out of a flat, the ones after that were closer to the blurry man. His black hair was cropped short and it was pushed back, he wore glasses and a tan overcoat, but the face was too blurry to actually make out features.
The last photo made John heart drop, it was a close up of the man.
A close up of Sherlock.
His hair cut and pushed back away from his face, he wore a pair of thin framed black glasses and a long tan overcoat over a white button up. It couldn't possibly be Sherlock, it couldn't be, Sherlock's dead. This man though looked so much like him, those cheek bones, those lips, no one could have thos
Changing BeliefsChanging BeliefsChanging Beliefs2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
a John and Sherlock story
John repressed a sigh when Sherlock's ringing phone pierced through the peaceful silence they'd somehow managed to create. He tried to focus on the article about another politician making promises he'd never be able to keep – been there, done that – but found himself listening for clues as to what the phone call was about. Sherlock was sitting in the kitchen, already working on an experiment early in the morning, his voice low as he gave the caller short answers.
There was a silent moment, a lot less peaceful than before, after which John heard the chair scratching across the kitchen floor's surface, indicating Sherlock was getting up. He held his breath, wishing almost desperately not today, not today, not today.
“You can stop pretending to read the paper, John,” Sherlock called as he exited the kitchen and made his way towards his bedroom. “Lestrade needs us.”
John finally let out his
UmbrellasLestrade thanked the barmaid and stared rather moodily at his martini. He plucked out the little paper umbrella that was the sole reason for ordering the martini, and twirled it idly. He'd never told anyone, but he found umbrellas strangely fascinating and attractive. He stared at the spinning spokes of the umbrella so intently that everything else in the pub seemed to disappear around him. He entered a state almost of hypnosis from the pattern on the umbrella. He hadn't realized his fascination was quite so intense.Umbrellas2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Greg was startled out of his reverie by a tap on the shoulder. He jumped and turned to see who it was. Mycroft stood there, abruptly close to Greg's shoulder. He had never noticed that Mycroft wore ties with an umbrella pattern. He found it oddly…
"I need you to come with me," Mycroft said, jolting Lestrade out of his musings. Lestrade narrowed his eyes.
"Why do I need to come with you?" he asked. He didn't know Mycroft very well, but if he was anything like his brother, b
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 1 Of 2Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 1 Of 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth.
Chapter One: Bored Again
Sherlock screamed at the top of his lungs, I barely looked up at him from my laptop screen. I was still angry with him from yesterday when he decide to call me at three in the morning and tell me he was kidnaped and dying, causing me to wake up frantic to get to him and realize he just wanted to use my phone. He honest to god just wanted to use my phone to send a text and me that he knew I would have ever had come if he just asked to us my phone.
"John, I'm bored," He says and I continue to type at the keys, "What are you doing?" Sherlock raises his voice walking over to me.
"Blogging Sherlock, I'm a blogger that is what I do." Sherlock peers over my shoulder, "No, the car was green John." Sherlock reaches over slapping my hands away so he could backspace the switch my words with his.
"Right, then why don't you just write the bloody thing?" I say and look over my shoulder at him, we were close really close anymore and I wou
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 1Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 12 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 1
Part One: Is It Alright If I Come Home?
My best friend Sherlock Holmes is dead.
This building never looked so tall before, honestly Bart's was never the tallest of all buildings but when I look up now it hurts my neck. Its blinding and I could see Sherlock standing up there, his black coat sweeping around his legs as he stared down at me. I cannot hear what he's saying; there is nothing but a droning sound coming from my phone.
I think he's cry, but I'm not sure if I know he's crying or my brain is making this up.
My brain must be making this up, I must be dreaming, because now I am running. I am running through the empty darkened halls of Bart's looking for Sherlock. I was searching for the door to lead me up to the roof, my mobile pressed to my ear and I think I'm shouting or Sherlock is shouting at me but I cannot understand the words.
Opening doors that lead to nowhere, these doors are all dead ends hundreds of doors, if don't hurry She
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 1Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 12 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious?
Chapter One: Bloody hell Mycroft, you have such bad timing.
Note: I promise you all this is a Johnlock fic XD there is a subplot to this plot! LOL I just didn't want to confuse any of you. Alright carry on.
"I'm getting fat," John stated aloud not really caring if Sherlock heard him or not, as he pinched a small roll of fat between his thumb and index finger. John made a face looking down at it then shoved his jumper down firmly over his stomach, John wasn't sure if he could shower tonight without noticing it.
"Mmm," Sherlock grunted a late reply as he lay on the couch in his dressing gown staring up at the ceiling. John knew Sherlock could care less about his physical appearance as long as John could still run after him during a case. John could proudly say he could still do that even with the bit of weight gain, which was now disappointing him.
'It must be the excess of takeaway I've been consuming with Sherlock' John thought as he crossed the sitting roo
Sherlock: Sick and tired. 4 Of 6Sherlock: Sick and tired. 4 Of 62 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Sick and Tired.
Chapter Four: Best Intentions.
Sherlock has been attached to his computer screen for the past two days; he has gotten better fever gone down and his throat better but still hurt him. I should have suspected one of two things, one I couldn't hold Sherlock back too long and the second that he was up to no good, no good at all. I should have suspected when he stopped pacing the floors or complaining, that something was off and when he started to mess around on his laptop for hours or check his phone every half hour. For some reason I ignored this and put it off as him trying to cope in indoor life while he got better, maybe Sherlock was right to be frustrated that people just don't think.
No I didn't question until I woke one morning tied to a chair facing Sherlock who was also tied to a bloody chair facing me. His head dipped swaying side to side; at least he wasn't dead, yet not until I got through with him. If we lived that long anyway, I looked around with ha
A Little Christmas Paradise at 221bJohn awoke with a start, eyes wide open, breath coming out in ragged gasps. His fingers shakily found the still-warm impression of a head on the pillow next to his, reassuring him that the nightmare of Sherlock dying was simply that – a nightmare. He allowed himself to linger in bed for a while longer, feeling the memories of the past few months lazily chase around in front of his eyes – that moment when three years later, he'd seen Sherlock sitting in his armchair one evening after John had limped back from work in the pouring rain; the easy way in which they had fallen together; the way their lives seemed so uncomplicated now, their own personal battles and demons fought and won.A Little Christmas Paradise at 221b2 years ago in Romance More Like This
A loud "John, JOHN! Get yourself downstairs, will you?" jolted him from his reminiscing, and John obediently scrambled for his robe and slippers, and yawning made his way to Sherlock. The air was dense with the acrid smell of burnt bacon and toast making his throat clench and eyes water, and – hey –Sherlock
4: Candy Canes: JohnLock"Sherlock, did you see the candy canes?" John asked aloud from the living room. "... no, I didn´t. You sure you bought some?" - "Yes, I AM sure."4: Candy Canes: JohnLock2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John searched everywhere to find them. In the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, also in the fridge (and hoped Sherlock did NOT misuse them for an experiment) - but they were gone.
"Come on John, it´s ok. We can survive without them." - "But I like them." John pouted. Sherlock kissed him. "You can have my kisses instead." - "Well... this is a good offer. I think I´ll forget about the canes ~ "
John tousled through his dark curles and smiled. "I´ll go and buy a present for Ms Hudson now. See you later!"
After he left, Sherlock hung the candy canes he hid on the christmas tree with a sign on one which said "Surprise, my beloved. XXX, Sherly."
7: Pie: JohnLock"I´ll make a pie for Ms. Hudson, so please do NOT disturb me" Sherlock told John.7: Pie: JohnLock2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You... make a pie? YOU?!" John asked bewildered. "Wow, very interesting!" He chuckled.
"Don´t laugh. It´s my first time doing this... so please shut up."
Sherlock pouted. John pet his dark hair and smiled. "Can I help you?" - "No, I want to do it on my own." - "... just use the ingredients listed in the recipe, Sherlock. I´m serious. Don´t blow up the flat." - "I´m not an idiot."
John didn´t answer, he just smirked and went back to the living room.
One hour passed. Two hours passed.
A small "Boom!" was heard from the kitchen which caused John to look at the door. He was alarmed, stood up and ran directly to the kitchen.
Sherlock opened the door at the same time. He had dough in his face and on his hands, looking sheepish at his husband.
"Can you help me, John...?" he asked with a small voice. John smiled lovely, licking a bit dough off his cheek.
"Of course, swee
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 2Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious? Part 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Is It Not Obvious?
Chapter Two: "Sherlock is in love with you,"
"What do you want now?" John said with annoyance seeping from his words as Mycroft sat with his legs crossed and his tight lipped smile on his face.
"Just checking in of course," John clenched and unclenched my hands standing in Mycroft's office feeling a bit numb. John doesn't respond to him, just stares him down hoping he would get the point.
"Does my brother know about your little, midnight snogging?" John furrows his brow at Mycroft licking at his bottom lip, "I take that as a yes, poor baby brother," Mycroft shakes his head.
"What do you mean by that?" John asks him and Mycroft presses his lips together amused, looking down at his lap then back up to John.
"Sherlock is not good with expressing himself, but I thought you would have figured it out by now," John presses his eyes closed suppressing the urge to punch something, He hated when Mycroft was cryptic.
"Can you just get to the point?" John then says ste
Rock A Bye Time LordRock A Bye Time Lord2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Rock a bye Time Lord
Make this war stop
When whistles blow
River's cradle will rock
When the Flesh breaks
Silence will fall
And down will come Doctor
TARDIS and all
Rock a bye Time Lord
Once this all ends
To all of your friends
1 will fade
And 2 will die
But remember not to
Blink your eyes...
Sock It To HimSanta Claus delivers everywhere, and the Doctor finds a stocking on his door...Sock It To Him2 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
The Doctor stepped out of the Tardis, there was a sock pinned to the door.
He reared back in surprise and brushed his quiff out of his eyes. Yes, it was still there. He looked around. The Tardis was sitting on a grassy hillside, it was a quiet, dewy morning, the sky just lightening with peach and birdsong.
His Companion had requested a setting where she could take a morning stroll without having to worry about monsters or weird alien plants. Someplace pretty, but boring.
He'd landed them in the Lake District in the 18th Century. As usual, his Companion had overslept. She wasn't really good at mornings. For whatever that was worth in the Tardis.
He stared at the sock on his door.
It was a Christmas stocking. Traditional white ruff and red foot shape. As long as his arm. He looked around the hillside, there was no one around that he could see.
He reached up and pulled the stocking free. It had been sec
Sherlock: Youve gotten into my BloodstreamSherlock: Youve gotten into my Bloodstream2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: You've gotten into my Bloodstream
"I think I might have inhaled you,
I could feel you behind my eyes,
You've gotten into my bloodstream,
I can feel you flowing in me,
The spaces in-between two minds,
And all of the places they have been,
The spaces in-between,"
Bloodstream - Stateless
Sherlock: "A jump start of the heart,"
A, symphony all of your own, moving with quiet grace, a structured, practiced flow of music in the form of skin and bone. Every dip, lining up with a perfectly high pitch of tone, anyways something unexpected in-between, something unseen that leaves you on the edge of your seat as if the only thing that matters is to understand the music. To figure out what makes it tick, what makes it fall flat or speed to a conclusion, what make it linger on a tone?
A Pandora's Box I thought I would never open.
A musical instrument I've learned and inspected closely, as perfectly balanced like strings on a violin. Every touch creates
5: Christmas Tree: JohnLock"We can´t assemble a christmas tree in our flat. It´s too small." John said while looking around. "Anyway, it´s boring. Why cutting a tree and decorate it? It looks better in a forest." Sherlock was lying on the couch - bored again. There was still no case to solve.5: Christmas Tree: JohnLock2 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"But it´s a tradition to put a tree inside your flat or house and decorate it..." John sighed. "A small plant, at least? Please, Sherlock... this´d make me happy..."
Sherlock looked at his lover who had puppy eyes now. Sherlock couldn´t resist those eyes...
"Well, ok. A small plant with a small chain of lights... and more Mistle Toes. One is not enough." - "One is not enough?! Sherlock, you´re standing under this Mistle Toe once per hour! One IS enough! Also, we´re having "fun" every night in your bed, you even wake me up for this...!" John blushed a bit.
"But you like that." Sherlocked grinned.
"I´ve nothing against it, but you´re assigning me like hell... I still
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 2 Of 2Sherlock: The Drunken Truth 2 Of 22 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: The Drunken Truth.
Chapter Two: The Understanding.
When I woke up everything from last night felt like a dream but when I tried to move Sherlock was there pressed against my side. His long limbs draped over mine, still asleep. I shifted my head to look at him, to really look at his beautiful face. He looked younger when he slept and he already looked like a very sexy sculpted baby when he was awake and about. I grin knowing how creepy that last thought was but it's not like anyone will hear me anyway.
I don't move an inch; I just lay there under Sherlock listening to his soft breathing. I could feel his heart beating against my skin, a pulsating point of energy with one objective, stay alive. It was strange to think that without that one organ moving constantly Sherlock wouldn't be here with me. I had no idea what to expect when he did wake up and I didn't want to lose this, this right now where nothing mattered but him laying here with me. This where there were no murders, n
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 4Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 42 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock: Caring Is Not an Advantage Part 4
Part Four: Is It Alright If I Come Home?
I saw you in the street today, you didn’t see me. SH
I know you still eat, let’s have dinner. SH
BBC1 right now, it will make you laugh. SH
Your bedroom is still empty, want to have dinner? SH
Mycroft won’t play cluedo with me, want to have dinner? SH
Breathing is still boring. SH
Nothing on the telly, get in a cab, let’s have dinner. SH
At the morgue with Molly, Want to have dinner? SH
My hair has grown out a bit. SH
You should wear your stripped shirt in public, it suits you. SH
Donavan passed out when she saw me today, would you like a picture? SH
You don’t write much in your blog anymore, want to have dinner? SH
Angelo’s seven o’clock. JW
Three months since Sherlock returned from the dead and three months of Sherlock’s one sided conversation with John.
John wasn’t sure why he wanted to meet Sherlock, maybe it was that he missed Sh