BBC Sherlock: NightmaresThe moment John woke up, he knew something was wrong. He was a light sleeper, courtesy of Afghanistan, so any sign of danger could instantly jolt him wide awake. And now he clearly sensed that his life was hanging by a thread. However, John decided to be cautious and not to make any unnecessary movements, which might provoke an assault. Instead he just opened his eyes slightly and carefully scanned the room shrouded in darkness. Yes, his instinct didn't fail him. There was someone standing at the door. The stranger was motionless, but John could hear him breathing irregularly, as if he just stopped running and tried to calm down. A shadowy, anonymous silhouette, like a monster from children's nightmares.BBC Sherlock: Nightmares4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
John felt fear rising in his chest, but years of being a soldier helped him to maintain his cool. His mind started racing, desperately trying to figure out what to do. He thought about the gun he kept in a bedside table's drawer, but he doubt he'd be quick enough to grab it before th
A Pirates life for me?"Now you stay right there, Sherlock." Mrs. Hudson admonished him as he sat down in the living room. "John! Bring your medical bag, hurry, please."A Pirates life for me?4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Quick stepping, John came in from his bedroom, his black leather medical bag (compliments of Sherlock on Boxing Day) in his hands. Sherlock sat on the couch holding a bloody handkerchief to his left cheek.
"What happened here?" John lifted Sherlock's chin to better view his face. On his left cheek a gash was bleeding profusely. John immediately took a sterile gauze wipe and applied direct pressure to the wound.
"What have you been up to Sherlock? Mrs. Hudson can you get me a basin of hot water and some towels? This might get a bit messy."
"It's only a tiny cut, John. I'll be alright."
"It's a deep penetrating wound on your head and it's bleeding rather profusely, which is good by the way. Hopefully, it will purge any debris that was left in the wound. We will still have to wash it out and you might need a few stitches."
"Let me know when you
BBC Sherlock: In Bed"I'm dying, John!" Sherlock whined, looking at his flatmate like a sad puppy.BBC Sherlock: In Bed3 years ago in Humor More Like This
John rolled his eyes.
"No, you're not. You've just got a cold," he explained patiently, pointing his finger at Sherlock to show who was to blame for the whole situation. "I told you not to run around the flat barefooted and only in your dressing gown!"
Sherlock sneezed loudly three times in a row and then huffed with annoyance.
"My head is pounding, I can't think!" He protested while wrinkling his nose in indignation.
John sighed heavily.
"No wonder, you have a high fever. Just stay in bed and wait till the medicines I gave you will kick in."
"I won't, staying in bed is boring!" Sherlock stated defiantly, sat up and folded his arms on his chest.
"Sherlock, lie down!" A note of warning could be heard in John's voice. He used that tone to his most problematic patients at the hospital.
"No!" Holmes pouted like a stubborn child, ostentatiously not looking at John.
"Lie. Down." John repeated more force
ForeverJohn was sitting in his arm chair, reading the paper as rain hit the window on the other side of the room. He felt eyes on him. He could feel the stares but he didn't dare look up. He was mad. Ferrous even. Mad that he had done this to him. Mad that he had left him alone for three bloody years.Forever4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Mad that he loved him after it was all said and done.
"John..?" Sherlock's voice was barely audible being just above a whisper.
John ignored him.
"John? Please..." Sherlock sounded pitiful.
John turned the page to the paper. He was going to make Sherlock suffer as long as he could. He was alone for three years. He was depressed, alone, and pissed all that time. Depressed his best friend had killed himself. Alone in the world he didn't want to be in anymore. Pissed that Sherlock had done this to him.
Sherlock stood and moved over to John, snatching the paper out of his hands.
"Listen to me..." He begged, his eyes sad and a little annoyed.
"Give me the pap
That's it?When Sherlock Holmes woke up, he was on the sofa, in his dressing gown. He rubbed his eyes and deduced that he must have fallen asleep in it the night before.That's it?4 years ago in Horror More Like This
The night before
He narrowed his eyes. He had absolutely no recollection of the previous night.
He sat upright on the sofa and ran his hand through his hair.
He looked up and saw John sitting on the windowsill, staring at the passing traffic, with his mobile sat next to him. Sherlock pressed his fingers against his eyelids.
"Can you pass me the coffee?", he said, gesturing lazily to the steaming mug on the table opposite John.
John continued to sit there, and sighed to himself, but ignored his flat mate.
"John." Sherlock tried again. The doctor was never usually this annoyed with him so early on in the morning. "The coffee, please?" Still no response.
A few seconds passed, and then John picked up the coffee, and drank it himself. Sherlock snorted quietly.
"Charming," he said "You're getting better and better at ignoring me
We Would Be Warm Below the StormJohn. Come home immediately. - SHWe Would Be Warm Below the Storm4 years ago in Romance More Like This
John's eyebrows furrowed; Sherlock was pushy, no doubt about that, but there was something odd about this. John knew urgency when he heard it, and he heard it in Sherlock's text.
OK. I'm at the store. I just have a few more things.
He put it back in his pocket and went back to looking for his crisps. Literally two seconds later his pocket pinged again.
Leave the bloody shopping. Come home *now.* - SH
John didn't even think twice. He left his basket in the middle of the aisle and ran out of the store and into the rain. What had been dark and foreboding skies when he entered the store were now horrendous buckets of rain, but since he didn't have any food to carry, he decided to walk. (He knew that it would take longer to try and get a cab, seeing as everyone else was trying to, and even if he managed to get one the rain would just delay his arrival even more). He could always just change clothes when he
Sherlock BBC: The Meowing ProblemSensing that it was John, who was coming home and not someone else, didn't prove a challenge to the great Sherlock Holmes. Doctor Watson had this very specific way of opening the front door, unique pace of climbing the stairs and breathing pattern that somehow felt soothing. But Sherlock, sitting in his armchair and browsing through a newspaper, knew that something was different today. All those little habits of John's were slightly altered. Perhaps due to the rain that kept falling incessantly for the whole day. Whatever the reason, Sherlock was mildly intrigued. Something was afoot.Sherlock BBC: The Meowing Problem4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Hello, John," he said casually, eyes fixed on John.
"Hello, Sherlock," John replied quickly and hurried to the kitchen, clearly trying to avoid the attention of his flatmate. Obviously, that had quite the opposite effect, especially when a muffled "meow" could be heard coming from the general direction of John.
"John?" Sherlock asked with misleading calmness.
"Yes?" The water was dripping from him as if
Asperger'sAsperger's4 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
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?5 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
Wrong DeductionSherlock was sitting in the chair, holding a cuppa in one, a book in the other hand. He wasn't reading, but observing his flat mate who had fallen asleep on the couch. The television was showing a stupid show. No wonder John had fallen asleep, Sherlock thought. How could people possible want to watch something like that?Wrong Deduction4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
He was bored, but the idea popping up in his head didn't seem to be. A devilish grin appeared on Sherlock's face. It wasn't boring at all, to observe Johns reactions. Thinking about what he should do to him, Sherlock put away his tea and the book. Maybe he should blow up a paper bag near Johns ear? Sherlock decided not to, because he didn't want to wake him up. Oft enough his flat mate stayed up all night in order to help Sherlock with his work as a consulting detective.
Sherlock frowned. He didn't seem to come up with any good ideas that would allow John to keep on sleeping. Now he was annoyed, so he went in front of the couch as quiet as he could. Now he c
The Question Part 4 - Gifts1:12The Question Part 4 - Gifts4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Are you going to make it to the wedding?
You're really getting married? I thought it was a gag.
Why is everyone so surprised?
Well it's you and Sherlock how can we not be?
You guys weren't like this when you found out we got together.
We thought you were together long before though.
Yes I remember.
Looking back it's rather funny; don't you think?
I suppose it is.
I think under the word Denial in the dictionary there is a picture of you two.
Hey it wasn't denial!
Really? Cause I seem to recall hearing nothing but "I'm not gay." from you.
... I've missed something apparently.
I love Sherlock and I'm attracted to him but only him no other men. So not gay.
Guess that makes sense.
Glad we've cleared that up.
Yeah Guess I should cancel the male-strip dancer I hired for your Stag part
Pocket JohnI sighed, resting my chin in my hands as I watched Sherlock get ready to leave. He was off to work on a case, and I was going to be sitting here, alone as usual. "Oh, don't look so down dear," Ms. Hudson said, noticing my crestfallen face as she handed Sherlock his scarf. "You wouldn't want to go out anyways, not in your condition."Pocket John3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
She was right, of course. This 'condition', as we had termed it, made me less able then usual to go along with Sherlock's escapades. It was a result of a series of rather unusual accidental occurrences that happened almost two weeks ago, most of which were Sherlock's fault. He had been messing around with some experimental science nonsense, and when I got caught in the crossfire… well, how do I say this without sounding ridiculous? I shrunk, for lack of a better term. I now stand at about 14 centimeters (or 5.5 inches, for the American readers). It all happened rather quickly, and I am actually ashamed to say that I am fairly used to it by now. Still, I hav
For No OneFor No One4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John, please, open the door."
Sherlock stood outside, his ear pressed against the locked door, listening for any signs of recognition from John. When none came, he hit the door angrily and, ignoring the searing pain coming from his fist, sat down beside the door.
The detective ran over the past half hour's events carefully in his mind, looking for some defect in his seemingly flawless plan. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and replayed it all over again:
9:00 pm- Sherlock had tiptoed quietly up the steps, knowing that each step brought him closer to John. He made sure Mrs. Hudson didn't hear him. She'd spoil the surprise.
9:01 pm- When Sherlock stood outside the flat's door, he wasn't sure he was ready to knock. He couldn't help but worry that John might be angry, as much as he wanted to believe that his friend would be happy to see him. He begins to pace.
9:05- Finally, the consulting detective raps the door lightly. He holds his breath as he hears footsteps coming. They stop,
Self-DisgustThe room hummed with a dull intensity, the walls resonating like the curves of a tapped wineglass as I spoke, my eyes fixed unseeingly on the table, my mind flooded with the images my words stirred to the muddy surface.Self-Disgust4 years ago in Drama More Like This
"Lestrade took me in," I mused aloud, the quick, precise voice perfectly even, despite the fact that my hands were trembling so fiercely that it was necessary to keep them folded safely in my lap as a knot of nausea worked its way steadily up my throat. "He took me in and... got me clean. And I stayed that way for several months, but... it never stopped. It never really got better."
My right hand worked its way to the crook of my opposite elbow, gently squeezing the tense muscles there as a flicker of desperate impatience wormed its way through me, followed by that familiar, sickening self-hatred. I could feel John's eyes fixed on me as I stopped, uncertain of what to say now that my story had worked itself to a finish. It had truly been an awful quarter of an hour.
The deductions of one John WatsonWarning - Slash! Don't like dont read.The deductions of one John Watson4 years ago in Profiles More Like This
Disclaimer - I do not own Sherlock /3
and please enjoy and let me know what you think
It should have been obvious to me from the moment that that I walked into the living room at Irene's house that Sherlock was indeed in love with this women. The wonderful, mystery that was Irene Adler had caught the attention of my friend, my companion, my reason for living, Sherlock Holmes. When he thought her died the emotion he felt towards her, the sadness in the song he wrote, the sadness in even his cold hearted eyes it was almost too much to bare.
I had to wonder if he'd feel that way for me. Would he almost cry at the thought of me died? Would he run to the end of the earth to save me, like I know he'd done for her when he thinks I'm stupid enough to believe Mycroft's story of her death. Sherlock may have been able to fool his brother into his cold-heartedness but me it was more difficult. I'd seen the way her very smile had caused his heart to flutter
When He WakesJohn stirs. Slowly his senses awaken and return as consciousness washes over him.When He Wakes4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The first thing he becomes aware of is the sound of muted voices and music coming from near by. His foggy mind slowly processes them; noting that he doesn't recognize them.
Then comes scent; the aroma of stale Chinese take-away. And another aroma delightfully sharp and crisp that he can't place but he knows is very familiar. He's rather fond of that scent; if he could just recall what it is. Then he becomes aware of the fact that his bed is longer and narrower than he recalls.
Wait - bed? He's not in bed.
Couch. In front of the TV. That makes sense.
Actually it doesn't. Why is he on the couch?
His groggy mind manages to recall details from the night before.
They'd just finished a case two days ago and Sherlock hadn't had the chance to succumb to boredom and black moods yet. So it was an unusual chance for the two of them to spend a companionable evening together befitting two friends. John sugg
BBC Sherlock: Marbles on glassSherlock was about to take a leap when he felt a vibration in his pocket. That really surprised him, causing him to open his eyes and relax his tensed muscles. Since he died three years ago his phone was always silent. The only person who could be texting him was Mycroft, but he never did that. He preferred to call him or meet him in person. Still, Sherlock kept carrying his old phone. It was just a habit from his previous life and not a necessity. Not anymore.BBC Sherlock: Marbles on glass3 years ago in Drama More Like This
He produced the phone from his navy blue jacket, which he truly hated, and glanced at the screen.
Hellooooo, Sherlock! -JM
Sherlock stared at the message, his face expressionless. After a while, his fingers began to move seemingly without his will as he typed and sent the text.
I think I should be surprised that you're alive, but truth be told: I am not. -SH
The reply came almost instantly.
I wasn't surprised that you're alive, as well. You're rather predictable, Sherly. -JM
So are you, my dear Jim. - SH
The Lonely Assassin?Sherlock had never expected to see fear on the face of James Moriarty, but right now he looked as scared as he could possibly be. The consulting criminal staggered backwards and fell, holding one hand in front of him in defense, his face full of dread and morbid realisation.The Lonely Assassin?4 years ago in Drama More Like This
His voice barely came out as a whisper. "It's you - you were behind everything, it's always been you!"
The detective grinned and took a step forwards, waiting for the criminal to blink.
He didn't have to wait long.
As soon as he did, Sherlock felt the air move behind him as multiple stone angels appeared, reaching out. Jim crawled backwards towards the wall, terrified, but Sherlock stayed where he was. Because they both knew that they wouldn't hurt him.
"It's been you all along, you you're on their side!"
Sherlock's grin faded slightly. He began to walk slowly towards Jim, and he crouched down so that his mouth was centimetres away from his ear. He could hear the criminal's breathing - unsteady and thi
Sherlock/Mycroft textsWhere are you going? MHSherlock/Mycroft texts4 years ago in Humor More Like This
Take a guess. SH
I'll get someone to figure it out for me. MH
I hate you. SH
I should hit you on the head with my umbrella, you know. MH
You're irritating me. SH
That's the point, if I'm not mistaken. MH
-Ignoring your irritating messages. SH
Just doing my job; but you know you'll get bored. And being bored is well, "dull" in your words, I recall. I dare you to ignore me. MH
Challenge accepted. SH
And challenge failed. MH
Truce? Handshake? MH
My ring contains a needle dipped in poison from the South American poison dart frog. Handshake= bad idea. It's truce enough that I told you. SH
Fair enough. *shrugs casualy* I'll just tell you my secret later, then. MH
You spelled "casually" wrong. SH
You still got to what I was trying to say, though. MH
It makes you look like even more of an idiot than u
BBC Sherlock - Mrs HudsonIn the time Doctor John Watson had spent with Sherlock Holmes he had learned many of the man's strange little idiosyncrasies.BBC Sherlock - Mrs Hudson5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
The habit of sticking the post to the mantelpiece with a knife he discovered on the very first day. The emergency pack of cigarettes concealed in a small Persian slipper behind a stack of books took a while longer (It was unopened; much to Sherlock's pride the detective was doing remarkably well with quitting smoking.) The fact that, when Sherlock has exhausted himself with a case, his sleep is silent but on the rare occasions when he sleeps just for the sake of it he snores like a particularly troublesome drain unblocking took still longer to discover.
John had thought that he had found out all that there was to know about the detective in the near two years since he had first moved in with Sherlock. Although, he willingly admitted with a great deal of amusement, today had most definitely proved him wrong.
He had learnt three things today. One- You should never
Time Goes BySherlock, I'm being redeployed. JWTime Goes By4 years ago in Drama More Like This
How is that possible? And why? -SH
The letter says because they need someone with my expertise. JW
When do you have to go? -SH
I report a week from today. JW
John... I'm sure, if we contact Mycroft, he could do something. -SH
I don't know, Sherlock. Maybe. Could you come home? JW
I'll be there as soon as I can. -SH
Fifteen minutes later, the door unlocked and a very unhappy consulting detective entered the flat of 221B. He moved haughtily into the living room, removing his scarf. "Where are you, John?"
"Kitchen," John called. He was making tea to calm his nerves, though his hands were shaking. The dreadful letter lay opened on the table.
Sherlock went to the kitchen, his eyes immediaty zeroing in on the letter. He snatched it up, examining it carefully. His brain helpfully suggested reading it backwards or upside-down, in Italian or possibly Cantonese. But the letter was direct and legitimate, obviously from the military. He set the paper down, lookin
Tickle"John, go away," Sherlock frowned. I chuckled and pinched him again. He made an unamused noise. It made me smile and I pinched him again. "John, go away I'm thinking."Tickle4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"You're no fun Sherlock," I frowned. I nudged him. He opened his eyes and glared at me. He was sprawled across the lounge, his hands in a prayer position. I sat on the ground next to him, enjoying annoying him.
"Now's not the time for fun John, it's the time for thinking," Sherlock said.
"What do you need to be thinking about? You've solved all of the cases," I replied.
"I need to stimulate my mind," Sherlock said, closing his eyes. A few minutes passed before I pinched him again.
"John! Please!" he cried out, his eyes flying open and giving me a third degree stare.
"Come on, you need to have some fun," I smiled. Sherlock grumbled something. He closed his eyes again and went back to thinking. "Hey Sherlock, are you ticklish?"
"What?" Sherlock asked, not looking at me.
"Are you ticklish?" I asked again.
"Don't be absurd J
I'm sorry, MycroftI'm sorry, Mycroft4 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