Catlock: The Case of the Beautiful Spy Ch. 1I'm back at home now. I don't know why I thought that I could get away without a few days of panic and fighting; I've got lots to tell.
I'm typing on John's computer again and we're back at Baker Street. We spent about five days at Mycat's house while John and Sherlock were apparently away on some kind of case.
I wish I could show you John's face when Mycroft (Sherlock's brother, apparently) put us both in the box that we came in (without sealing it thankfully) and handed us to John. I thought he was going to melt away in horror. He stuttered an apology for Mycroft, who finally smiled before turning on his heel and leaving. I talked with Sher-cat and we've both agreed to ignore Sherlock for a while. I'm going to bite him if he tries to pet me!
But here's the catnip: while we were at Mycat's house we met this cat, and she gave us a clue to the mystery of who the 'black cat' was and provided Sher-cat with more evidence of a 'master thief'.
Let me try and tell the story, I don't think you
Catlock: The Hound of the Baskervilles pt 2Lestrade led us to an old abandoned house that leaned over the street precariously. It had slim basement windows that were shattered and he slipped through these into the house.Catlock: The Hound of the Baskervilles pt 23 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The inside was much bigger than it appeared. We found ourselves in a huge, open dark space with boxes and crates everywhere lit by a few blue lights which dangled over head like glowing balls of string. All through the room cats of every kind were moving, meowing, working, talking and laughing. I was amazed at how many cats there were!
"Welcome newbie, to the official base of the unofficial Yard." Danderson said to me grinning.
"Danderson, don't talk to him, you're stupidity might be contagious." Sher-cat snapped. A ripple of rage crossed Danderson's features, but he suppressed it by quickly beginning to groom himself.
"I have a map on the back table." Lestrade said walking with an air of importance through the basement.
The next thing I knew we were all gathered around the map and Lestrade was marking the murd
Catlock: The Hound of the BaskervillesHello, my name is Watson-cat. It's short for "Watson, your stupid cat..." But as you can imagine I'm not so fond of my full name.Catlock: The Hound of the Baskervilles3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I have another name too, but no one uses it, which is a shame. It's a fine sounding name.
I live in a small house. I used to live in a large house, but I like the small house better. The small house is filled with things I like. Things that ring and things that are soft, I have such fun!
In a small house I can jump up and reach everything, so I'm fine with that. I climb on places I'm not supposed to everyday.
The house is small and filled with junk, but it is cozy and it feels like a nice home, and something interesting is always happening.
I also live with two humans. They're both a little odd. One is a bit eccentric and he can stay up all night long and sometimes he doesn't eat. He also plays an instrument that sounds like a cat-song. I sometimes join him and yowl while he plays, but he never likes to sing duets with me. He hits me with the stick. I think
Catlock: The Great Game Ch .1I'm tired.Catlock: The Great Game Ch .13 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I'm really really tired.
Every waking (and several sleeping) hours have been dedicated to tracking down or hunting up information on this Moriarty cat. It seems like Sher-cat is running me ragged. He's probably just as tired as I am, but he handles it much better. He's actually happier now that he's so busy looking for clues of this cat. I, on the other hand, am so tired that I keep hitting the wrong keys. Typing is hard, sleeping is easy; ergo, I quit.
I'm still tired. That paragraph was all I could manage for yesterday. I'm secretly wondering if Sher-cat is just experimenting to see how long I would put up with sleep deprivation for him. If that is true, and he reads this I feel inclined to warn him: It's not long.
Sherlock (the human) knows that we (the cats) come and go as we please, but John (also a human) does not, so Sher-cat and I have to investigate only when John won't notice we're gone. Sadly that is most of the time; he's at work all day and he sleeps pretty much
Catlock: The Adventure of the Gray BurglarHello out there! It's me, Watson-cat again!Catlock: The Adventure of the Gray Burglar3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I've found my new favorite thing! The other day Sher-cat brought home another little baggy, like the one Lestrade gave him. He keeps these little baggies on a table where I can't reach them, but today I jumped up and grabbed one.
I don't know what it is, but I love it. I love it I love it I love it! The bag is sealed with tape and I don't want to open it because then Sher-cat will know I went through his stuff, but I can smell whatever it is through the bag and I love it.
I spent the longest time rolling over it and trying to get the scent all over me and it was bliss! It smelled like mint and green grass and pretty girl kitties and morning sunshine and all things wonderful! I wonder if Sher-cat would know if I just kept this one
I'm back from the vet. I've learned another of life's lessons the hard way: If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
Sher-cat noticed I had swiped his bag, but he told me for helping him I could keep it
Catlock: The Adventure of the Sudden BrotherI probably should have known something was up when Sherlock started putting towels into a box. No, I should have known when I heard him muttering about the landlady. Maybe I should have been alerted as soon as John asked him to smooth things over with Mrs. Hudson, but it wasn't until he started cutting holes in that box that my delicate inner sense of danger sensed his intentions.Catlock: The Adventure of the Sudden Brother3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
I ran into John's room and ducked down under the bed and stayed there. I wanted to tell Sher-cat what his human was planning, but I was too scared to move. He had no way of knowing for sure, he'd never experienced abandonment like I had. I knew that if we were put in the box, we would be thrown out of the apartment. It was exactly what my old family did.
Fear clutched at my stomach as my thoughts raced around in semi-circles in my head. What if it wasn't both of us, what if it was only Sher-cat? What if he only wanted to get rid of me? Would John let him? Would he be too late to stop him?
I heard the creaking
Sherlock Holmes: The Alder King MysteryIT has been my esteemed pleasure to have recorded some of the most singular cases ever investigated by one of Europe's greatest minds, my good friend Sherlock Holmes. That said however I would like to draw my reader's attention to a little known, or little attributed fact of life: I have recorded as many of the tales of Sherlock Holmes as I was able in the span of my life, but many of those tales still go unrecorded either due to pressures from governments who require anonymity on these delicate affairs, lack of interest in the case which may simply mean that the case was in no way an admirable expose of my remarkable friend's deductive skills, or even from reluctance from Holmes himself. He has never been too much of a fan of my chronicling, condemning it more than once as superficial and sensationalist.Sherlock Holmes: The Alder King Mystery3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Nonetheless, I find it impossible now to halt the altogether wholesome process of putting to script most of the mysteries that I have had the pleasure of accompanying him with. It has
Catlock: Holiday In HellSher-cat is sleeping right now. He's been doing that a lot recently.Catlock: Holiday In Hell3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Oh, Hello. It's me Watsoncat.
Typing is so soothing right now. It feels like everything is easing back to normal. It's not of course, I'm just lulling myself into a false sense of security; but I'm becoming weary of being on alert all the time.
My sense of security is trashed and my trust in others has never been lower. Not even as a stray. I was really betrayed by someone I thought I cared about, but who turned out to be an imposter.
No, it's not Sher-cat. He's one-hundred percent genuine snoring slightly on the chair behind me. Thank goodness for that little bit of consistency in my life.
I was typing a bit of a journal entry a few days ago when I heard Sher-cat talking to someone at the window. When I heard my name I jumped next to him to see who it was. It was a cat I knew kind of well. I had seen her picture on my tumbler lots of times. She was a pretty brown kitty with big green eyes and perky wedge shaped ears.
Sick DaysJohn, how come you weren't in school today? This project is really important. We need to get a good grade on it. - SHSick Days3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sick, Sherlock. Got the flu. - JW
You can't be sick now. We're so close to graduating. - SH
Tell that to my immune system. Can we talk about this later? - JW
No. I'm coming over and we're going to work on our project. - SH
Sherlock, no. I feel like crap and I'm sleeping all the time. Plus you'll get sick. - JW
Sherlock? - JW
The arrogant boy didn't respond to John's text and he finally put the phone on his nightstand, not expecting a response now. He smiled sardonically and a small part of him hoped that Sherlock did get sick if he came over. Would serve him right. John laid back down and quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, his body unable to stay awake any longer.
Sherlock rode his bike quickly the half mile it took to get from his house to John's. He did really want to work on their project but the bigger part of him was worried about John. His friend didn't get sick
Halloween 1/2John finished molding the plaster in between his forefinger and thumb and sighed appreciatively, admiring the work he'd done. The small white tooth looked like a perfect fang.Halloween 1/23 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sherlock snatched the fang and shot it a smoldering glare; as if IT were the cause of his problems tonight. He slipped it over his canine and waited for John to finish molding the other tooth; in the meantime though, he occupied himself by rushing off to the kitchen to keep his experiment from burning over the open flame. Already the viscous brown goo was at a steady boil and threatening to lap over the rim of his Erlenmeyer flask.
"What a perfect waste of a beautiful evening! Think of all the ruined potential!" he wailed flipping the switch and killing the flame.
John sighed as he patted the tooth with his thumb. Sherlock had been whining and complaining all evening and John had to practically force him into his clothes, but no matter how much Sherlock tried to worm his way out of his sole social obligation John
His Last CaseSummary: An unexpected letter puts John's and Sherlock's relationship at stake, both for better and worse.His Last Case3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Thank you Hugesish for proofing this for me!
Sherlock and John were sitting at the table eating their morning biscuits, while John was reading the newspaper.
"Sherlock, have you heard about the increased crisis down in Afghanistan?" John mumbled as he was reading the article. He continued reading until he was finished.
John suddenly sighed.
"A friend of mine just got sent back and the continued problems in Afghanistan might mean that I may go back there as well." he said as he folded the newspaper. He looked at Sherlock with a sad look on his face.
"Reassigned?" Sherlock asked. "Why would you be reassigned? You have been discharged because of your wound, haven't you?" the consulting detective asked with a frown and looked at John with a questionable glance.
"I have though I can be called to duty again. I got discharged because of my bullet wound and my limp
Catlock: The Great Game Ch 4I sat still thinking rapidly. Then I searched the closet for a low lying air vent. There wasn't one. I sat and withdrew into my mind palace for a bit searching for a way out. To say the least I was frustrated, to say more I was almost ready to try and rip through the door with my bare paws.Catlock: The Great Game Ch 43 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Long story short, Adlercat finally unlocked the door with her nails, but not until four-thirty according to the glowing green numbers on Lestrade's digital clock. Baker Street wasn't far away, but we were running out of time.
I opened the window and then we were off. By about five we had reached the flat and were met with a grizzly sight.
Sprawled across the front steps to our flat was the female kitty that Watsoncat had left with that morning. Her tongue was lolled out and even from across the street I could tell she was dead.
I swore under my breath, realizing that she was a sign from our mysterious villain. She was our next note.
Crossing the street I christened the body and prepared myself menta
Catlock: The Case of the Burnt BurglarHello world! It's Watsoncat again!Catlock: The Case of the Burnt Burglar3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
So much has happened since I last typed I feel a little dizzy. Gray-cat burglar is dead! I'll be right back.
Much better. I went to get a snack for a moment, hope you don't mind!
Maybe I should just try and start at the beginning for a moment then I can get my thoughts in order. One night Sher-cat was sitting at his window perch as per usual and I was asleep on the couch. The next thing I knew, I was on the floor and Sher-cat was eagerly staring at me from where I had been sleeping on the couch. He'd pushed me off.
"I need your help again." He said. "Open the door."
It was almost two in the morning and I was groggy so I refused at first, but Sher-cat jumped on top of me and threatened to sit on me if I didn't do as he said. He can be a bit bossy.
Naturally I followed him out onto the street and since he didn't seem to care I decided to help him with whatever he was doing. I was still sleepy but helping Sher-cat in the past had been fun, so
Catlock: The Case of the Beautiful Spy Ch. 2I was woken up by a rattling noise at the window where Sher-cat had been sitting and a chilly breeze circulating through the room. I opened one eye and peeked into the darkness, praying that it was only Mycat's human.Catlock: The Case of the Beautiful Spy Ch. 23 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
No such luck: the window was open and Sher-cat was missing. I deduced that he had discovered how to open windows and had finally earned his escape. I lay down to continue sleeping, but Mycat's voice billowed up out of my deep thoughts, completely shattering any dream-like calm I had left in me.
"Nine. There were nine." It whispered a threat that clutched at my stomach like an icy hand. Sighing I picked myself up out of bed and stretched. I had to follow him and make sure he was alright, even if there was nothing wrong. The last time I followed him I saved his life. I was a cautious cat at heart.
I silently snuck up to the window sill, which was several feet off the ground and with a tremendous effort I grabbed onto the ledge with my front paws and kicked hard with my back
Halloween 2/2"It's Jim, Jim Moriarty! He's alive and he's got John!" Sherlock snarled as Lestrade thumbed through his text messages.Halloween 2/23 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Hell." He growled realizing that his one night off was about to be spent working.
Sherlock nudged an old man away from the bowl and eagerly seized the arm from where it was steeped in fruit juice and lime reins. He placed it on the table and carefully scrutinized it muttering every fact under his breath as it came to light.
"Female, late twenties, office job." He said forming a picture of her in his mind.
"How could he have survived? We never found the body, but we found the blood. There was no way"
"I did it and it wasn't that hard." Sherlock snapped. "Looks-dead clearly doesn't indicate death."
Sherlock carefully observed the ring on the woman's finger and pulled it off, noting both its newness and its expensiveness.
On the inside of the ring an engraving stood out from the highly polished silver. "Toujours l'amour, de Jean."
Sherlock did a quick translation
Live and Let Die: Chapter 1BBC Sherlock/ The Hunger Games crossoverLive and Let Die: Chapter 13 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Chapter 1: We are soldiers, stand or die
"Happy 74th Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour!" Irene Adler, the seductive District 3 escort, announced in a silky voice that made most of the haggard men and older teenagers gathered in the square shift uncomfortably. Not Sherlock Holmes though. He found the woman disgusting with her skimpy, velvet dress black as coal, her sensual red lips and huge blue eyes encircled by provocative make-up. And he simply couldn't stand her haircut, which was shamelessly inviting to take out all the pins and find out how her hair would look spread across the pillow. That woman used her charms mercilessly to enchant the audience, especially the male part. She knew what she was doing, judging by the silly smiles visible on men's faces.
Sherlock always knew he was different. He stood among other sixteen-year-old boys, being perfectly aware that they have hardly anything in common. He was smar
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: Nightmares3 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
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 Problem3 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
BBC Sherlock: Learn to be LonelyJohn wasn't woken up by the suspicious crack of the floorboards, a sudden and inexplicable draught, nor by bright light attacking his pupils. No, the sensation was far more subtle. A certain feeling of absence. The gnawing coldness. The emptiness around him. John slowly opened his eyelids and noticed what was wrong. The other side of the bed was vacant. John's eyes wandered across the room and stopped at the slim silhouette bathed in the moonlight, which only highlighted the paleness of the naked skin. Sherlock was standing by the window and looking out at the quiet and empty street below. He was looking, but not really seeing. His eyes were awash with deep sadness, something John had never observed before.BBC Sherlock: Learn to be Lonely3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"What's wrong, Sherlock?" John asked with worry.
Sherlock flinched a little, not being aware that John had been watching him. His facial expression changed instantly as if he put a joyful mask on.
"Nothing, John. I'm sorry if I woke you up." Sherlock apologised, twisting his lips in
BBC Sherlock: Take my love, take my land...John walked slowly through the cemetery, thinking how lifeless the world looked today. The sky was ashen, painted in a dull, homogeneous shade of grey. There were no sounds, no birds chirping, no beeping of horns, nothing. Only John's steady footsteps on a gravel path were resonating in the absolute silence of the necropolis. The air seemed stale and heavy like in a room that hadn't been opened for years. No trace of wind among the graphite leaves, no gentle blows to ease the pain and chase away all the undesirable thoughts. John wished it was raining. Or storming. It's always easier when the sky at least pretends to weep with you. Instead, the whole place seemed to be wrapped in a shroud, waiting apathetically for its funeral.BBC Sherlock: Take my love, take my land...3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John finally stopped and tried to shake off his melancholic observations, knowing how irrational they were. Sherlock would probably have a field day if he only knew. If.
"It's been three years already, " said John thoughtfully, staring at the tombstone adorned
BBC Sherlock AU: BohemienParis is indeed splendid. Doctor John Watson thought to himself as he was strolling on a boulevard right next to the Seine. Weather was certainly more pleasant here than in England all sunny, with occasional white cloud puffs blowing across the blue sky.BBC Sherlock AU: Bohemien3 years ago in Romance More Like This
John was really glad that he had accepted an invitation to a medical conference, which took place in the capital of France two days ago, and decided to stay in the city for a whole week. A well-deserved vacation, he repeated inwardly with satisfaction. And the hotel was just marvellous.
He glanced mildly intrigued at bookstalls lined up on both sides of the path, but he brought himself to heel and averted his gaze. He wasn't here to browse through musty novels, his purpose was far more important. Or so he hoped, filled with doubt.
It was still relatively early, so the gas lanterns weren't lit. John, however, wished that the darkness could come and engulf him, hiding from prying eyes of other people. As a doctor and a gent
Another Fifteen Things1. She usually does her best to avoid conflict. She doesn't enjoy arguing and really, really hates fighting. But she does on occasion. The most memorable was when she got into a fight when she was fifteen. She was in the hallway getting books from her locker when she heard a couple of rugby jocks hurling gay slurs at a friendly boy who sat behind her in history, Evan. She shouted at them to leave him alone, which they ignored, of course. Then they shoved him against the locker. Furious, she chucked her literature textbook across the hall at them without a thought and hit one of them on the head. It wasn't a well thought out attack and she probably would've gotten the crap beaten out of her if it hadn't been for Al. He was tall for his age and known around the school as being someone you didn't mess with. They tackled her to the ground and landed her a black-eye before Al threw them off. He insisted on taking pictures of her with that black-eye because he was "So damn proud."Another Fifteen Things3 years ago in Humor More Like This
2. Her mot
The Only ExceptionJohn closed his eyes, listening to the pounding rain on the window. The rain always relaxed him, just the sound of the pitter-patter of water hitting concert, the way the sky darkened and everything just slowed down. John stood up and walked to his room, not attracting the attention of his lover and flatmate, Sherlock Holmes.The Only Exception3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John returned moments later with an Ipod touch and some portable speakers. He set them down on the table next to him and fumbled with the cord for a few minutes. Sherlock looked up from his book and shot John a questioningly look.
John pressed play and soft cords from an acoustic guitar played through the flat. John smiled at Sherlock as "The Only Exception" by Paramore strummed softly. The female singer's voice filled the flat with perfectly hit notes that seemed so relaxing to John.
"What's that, John?" Sherlock asked, wondering why John turned on this noise.
"Music. Come on Sherlock." John reached out his hand. "Dance with me?"
Sherlock thought for a moment as
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 Fall (Sherlock Episode Rewrite)I hurried out of the cab, and as if on cue my phone rang.The Fall (Sherlock Episode Rewrite)3 years ago in Drama More Like This
"John." Sherlock's deep voice issued out, huskier than usual.
"Hey, Sherlock, you okay?" I started to jog to the entrance of St. Bart's.
"Turn around, and walk back where you came from."
"-no, I'm coming in-"
"-just /do/ as I ask! ...please."
I gave up and decided to listen.
"...where?" I looked around, confused. What was he on about-?
I started to walk back. Maybe he needed me here for a plan of sorts. I scanned the area, searching for him.
"Stop there!" He demanded.
This was getting ridiculous. "Sherlock," I said reproachfully.
"Okay look up, I'm on the rooftop."
I turned. I looked up.
Sherlock was standing on the roof of the St. Bartholomew's Hospital. His dark coat and blue scarf twisted endlessly in the wind, and his black shoes hung partially over the edge. His black, curly hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, his piercing eyes were full of...what was it? It was an emotion that I'd never see