Cold - MormorIt was freezing. The heater was broken and there was a horrible draft. They were in the dead of winter and a hail storm was raging outside, the tiny balls of ice beating at the window violently. It was surprising that the glass didn't shatter altogether.Cold - Mormor3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Jim sat on the couch with Sebastian's hoodie and a blanket wrapped around his small figure. He was tempted to go downstairs and yell at someone about it, but he didn't want to move from his warm cocoon he created around himself. It was too cold to even think about moving. He didn't dare let his fuzzy-sock-covered feet touch the icy ground.
He silently urged Sebastian to come back to their flat faster. He was out on a job Jim gave him earlier, no doubt out there in the freezing mess that people called the weather. Jim smiled slightly at the thought. That Sebastian would sit out there in the swirling flurry of ice, unseen and waiting for the perfect time to shoot, all for him.
It was at that time that Sebastian decided to walk into the f
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
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.Forever3 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
Sherlock BBC - Like a VirginAs John was staggering up the stairs to their shared flat on 221B Baker Street and struggling to keep his balance in a really pathetic and futile impression of a walk, he thought that spending the whole evening in "Red Lion", drinking pint after pint, maybe wasn't such a good idea.Sherlock BBC - Like a Virgin3 years ago in Romance More Like This
It was all Sherlock's fault, as usual. A few hours ago he announced fervently that he was bored out of his mind, and, since there wasn't any interesting case available, it could be fruitful to go to a pub and try spying on people. After all, drunk clientele are more prone to spill the beans and reveal some juicy secrets. At least that's what Sherlock claimed using more sophisticated vocabulary and making those puppy eyes, which you couldn't simply refuse. The truth was, John didn't really want to oppose this time, because an evening in a pub sounded fantastic. He envisioned that a bit of unwinding will be a nicer pastime than chasing criminals all around London as they normally do. So John was quite glad whe
The kiss of nights comfortThe kiss of nights comfort3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Another man down.
Another friend down.
"Noo. . ." John murmurs in his sleep, his head moving to the other side of his pillow.
Another gunshot, followed by a loud boom as dirt flies into the air and comrades fall.
"Noo. . . noo. . ." He says more urgently, like a quiet, desperate cry.
The image changes.
It's Sherlock, on the roof of the hospital again.
The scene replayed in his head.
Sherlock sending his 'note' and jumping.
"SHERLOCK!" John bolts upwards, wide awake and breathing hard. He looked around, making sure that he was still there in his bedroom of 221b Baker Street. His and Sherlock's flat.
"That was two years ago John, calm down, Sherlock is fine." He said to himself, throwing his blanket back over his shoulder and laying his head on the pillow. He sighed, his breath back to normal. A light passed by the window, caused by a passing car. The faint sound of a siren wailing in the night. He turned away from the window and started drifting back to sleep. He was almost a
BBC Sherlock: Something to talk aboutSix o'clock in the morning, Saturday. A call from Lestrade. Yes, a case, come to Scotland Yard at once.BBC Sherlock: Something to talk about3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock hung up with excitement, John just groaned plaintively. Friday was hellish at the hospital and he definitely could use some rest. Watson was determined to sleep through the whole morning, no matter what. Sherlock didn't waste any time, though. He sprang out of the bed, already wide awake, and delved into his wardrobe, preparing clothes for today.
"Come on, John! Don't dawdle! The adventure awaits!" Sherlock urged him in an upbeat tone.
John covered his head with a duvet, mumbling something incoherently about the place where Sherlock could put this adventure right now and how deep. The detective rolled his eyes.
"John, you are perfectly aware that I won't back off. You're coming with me whether you like it or not," he said adamantly, folding his arms across his chest. "After all, I'm completely lost without my blogger..." He added in a kinder voice, shamelessly butter
BBC Sherlock: Wanting moreJohn had sometimes really strange dreams and the one he was experiencing right now was definitely among the weirdest. He felt a big and slimy snail sucking on his forehead, trying to make a hole in his skull and slurp up his brain. John tried to scream or defend himself, but he was powerless.BBC Sherlock: Wanting more3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He was relieved when he woke up and the surreal dream ended. However, the sucking feeling didn't go away, which almost gave him a heart attack. He jumped up in the armchair, causing Sherlock to back away.
"What the hell?" He asked in utter confusion, fixing his gaze on Sherlock's intrigued face. He moved his hand to his forehead and felt a moisture there. "What the hell, Sherlock?" He repeated with anger.
"Waking somebody up with a kiss is said to be very romantic." Sherlock stated in a scholarly tone.
John looked at him with disbelief and snorted.
"Where did you get that?"
"You need to stop reading that crap," he sighed and shook his head with resignation. Sherlock's new hobby
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
Can I Kiss You, SherlockJohn traced his thumb against Sherlock's lively pink lip, looking deep into the detective's blue/gray, mysterious eyes. Oh, how badly he wanted to kiss this man, he didn't even know! His heart started pounding, hard, against his chest, fighting to get out.Can I Kiss You, Sherlock3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I don't see any damage, Sherlock..." John muttered, his thumb still skimming that delicate lip.
"Keep looking." Sherlock urged. "I know there must be something wrong with it! It hurts..."
Sometimes Sherlock made this face. It reminded John so much of a helpless little kid, and it was adorable. John's heart stopped as Sherlock's eyes looked so helplessly into his own, and he gasped lightly for breath. He panted, in a way, wanting to bring Sherlock closer.
John moved closer to Sherlock's face, examining the lip for tiny cuts of any kind. Of course, there were none that he could see... but he couldn't look away from that pair of adorable lips. He wanted to claim them as his own with his.
"Keep looking, John." Sherlo
When He SleepsSherlock detests sleep. Avoids it whenever possible. It's dull, pedestrian, unproductive and a waste of time. He only sleeps when it becomes absolutely necessary. When his body and mind are on the edge of collapse from over-exertion. Sleep was never a voluntary activity for him.When He Sleeps3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
At least that's how it used to be. Now he sleeps quite regularly. Even on cases.
But only in the back of a cab. This is because of a certain jumper-wearing doctor that shares the cabs with him. Because in the cabs he can pillow against the above-mentioned doctor and sleep quiet contently.
It started out by accident of course; this "pillowing arrangement." They'd been on a particularly brutal case for over a week; a string of child murders made to look like suicides. The killers knew what they were doing and were painstakingly thorough in covering their tracks. Even managed to feed them a few false leads. Not thorough enough to trump Sherlock though. It had taken 9 days and a 3 hour foot chase across London, but
Sherlock BBC: Cinema dateMany things could have been said about Sherlock Holmes, but surely nobody would call him an expert in the fields of love and dating. Those subjects remained an unsolvable riddle to him, even though his friendship with doctor Watson had changed not so long ago into something more. Sherlock, as always when in doubt, decided to consult a specialist for additional information. The paper specialist.Sherlock BBC: Cinema date3 years ago in Romance More Like This
The detective was sprawled across the couch in a lazy pose, browsing intently through the newest issue of "Cosmopolitan" which became recently a hobby of his, much to John's dismay, since he usually fell victim to Sherlock's experiments that were as romantic as they were eccentric.
The main topic of the magazine (apart from a guide how to choose a fitting pair of high heels to your miniskirt) was how to win your crush's heart. According to the author of the article, the best way to do it was to go on an exciting date to the cinema. Sherlock found it really peculiar movies always seemed re
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
Tabletop PinnedTabletop Pinned3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Oh…yes!" Sherlock shouted, clapping his hands together and smiling triumphantly. "Of course he would do that, he can't help but gain back the confidence he feels that he's lost from the castration so–oh yes! It all makes so much sense!"
"Sherlock! What makes sense?" Lestrade said, raising his voice in the hopes of shaking Sherlock from his excited daze.
"Collins is going to the place where it all happened. To him it's symbolic justice."
"Which is where…?" John asked, looking at Lestrade, equally bewildered by Sherlock's epiphany.
"Oh for God's sake. Have none of you been paying attention? The Tube!"
Lestrade's eyes widened and he immediately whipped his mobile from his pocket.
"I need a team at the South Kensington Tube station immediately. Yeah. It's urgent. We've got a embezzling murderer hiding out there, waiting for his next victim. Go. Hurry. I'll meet you there." He turned to Sherlock. "Any further tips on where to look?"
Sherlock scoffed. "Believe me. Not an
Welcome Home - Johnlock.Sherlock picked up his phone, and typed, 'John. I'm sorry. SH'. His fingers were shaking as he pressed send.Welcome Home - Johnlock.3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John sat up straight, he had just dozed off in the living room after watching the News, and the buzzing of his phone in his pocket had made him jump, he unlocked his mobile phone and looked at the text.
His eyes filled with tears and took a few moments to take in the fact that his one wish could have come true. 'Sherlock. You're alive? -JW' he replied.
A few moments later, he received another message, 'That is irrelevant. You need to come pick me up. SH'
'Irrelevant?! But... Ugh. Where are you, Sherlock? JW."
'Outside a pub. Two blocks from 221B. SH'
'Why can't you get a cab? JW'
'None of them will take me, john. SH'
'No wonder! Everyone thinks you're dead! JW'
'That's not why! I may be slightly intoxicated. SH'
John sighed. Only Sherlock. He hadn't even explained how he had jumped off a building in front of him and som
A Christmas Miracle: Johnlock"Happy Christmas, Sherlock! Look, Father Christmas came!" Mycroft was bouncing on the edge of Sherlock's bed, beaming with excitement. "I bet I got that set of night vision goggles!"A Christmas Miracle: Johnlock3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Hey! I was the one who wanted those!"
"Too bad! They're all mine!" Mycroft's voice grew deeper, and his face began to change into another all-too-familiar face.
"Moriarty? How'd you do that?" Sherlock squeaked.
"I owe you a cookie, Sherlock,"
"Sherlock, wake up! You're yelling in your sleep again!" John's voice roused Sherlock from his sleep. He sat up, spreading his long arms above him, yawning loudly. His pajama bottoms had little penguins on them. Sherlock wondered why Mycroft had given him the trousers, but they were flannel, and very warm. Sherlock's mind was devoid of all emotions, a clear slate, as usual. Today's Christmas, he realized. No wonder he had dreamt so festively. But Moriarty refused to leave his dreams, always present in one way or another. He had stopped shooting him
Watson LockedJohn looked so cute. So peaceful as he slept, his arms crossed over his stomach, his mouth opened just slightly ajar, his breathing deep and gentle, one in a while swallowing and taking a deep, long breath. Sherlock never knew someone could look so at peace. He almost had second thoughts of waking the peaceful solider. But yet, he needed him... Needed to hear him speak, needed to have him hold him, needed to have John's warm lips brush his forehead with a kiss.Watson Locked3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Slowly, Sherlock entered the room.
"John?" He asked softly, still unsure about waking him. "John?" He asked a little louder.
He knew John was a heavy sleeper... But still. He walked over and sat down on the edge of John's bed. As he breathed, he smelled John. Just the light smell in the atmosphere that reminded Sherlock of vanilla and tangerines. He adored that intoxicating smell that was, and always will be, John Watson. -His- John Watson.
He brushed John's soft cheek with his finger and smiled. John's eyes slowly fluttered ope
ExperimentJohn?Experiment3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I need you to come get me...
They won't let me leave.
Why not? What did you do?!
I'm too drunk.
Ha! You?! Drunk?! There's a new one!
Ok, ok, I'm sorry. I'll be right there.
The pub on the corner right?
Would you stop laughing at me?
After all the times I picked you up from this pub!!
I'm almost there.
John walked over to Sherlock who was sitting at the counter. John greeted the bar tender, took Sherlock's wrist, and helped him stand.
"I can -walk- John!" Sherlock hissed, pulling his wrist out of John's grasp.
And he seemed to be right. He lead the way out the exit and looked up and down the street. Something about Sherlock, being drunk never affected him. He could talk perfectly fine, walk perfectly straight, think perfectly annoyingly as always... The only thing the alcohol may do to him is ge
Soft Lips are OpenSoft Lips are Open3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock looked over his shoulder to see John's small figure passed out in his chair, his mouth hanging open ever slightly and a small whistle leaving his mouth every time he took a breath. Sherlock sighed, nothing to do now. He continued to watch John, the rise and fall of his chest, the way his eyes would constantly flutter. A dream. He was having a dream. Sherlock hoped it was a good one, not one of those nightmares that would wake John, screaming to the point that the sound could be heard downstairs in the kitchen where Sherlock would be experimenting with whatever creature he could find in the fridge.
Sherlock stared at John as he shifted slightly in his chair and his mouth hung open little more. Sherlock smirked, only John could look utterly adorable while looking like a
I Held Your Name Inside My MouthI Held Your Name Inside My Mouth3 years ago in Drama More Like This
Sherlock couldn't breathe. He couldn't see. He couldn't deduce. He couldn't think.
He sat in the middle of the living room of 221b, breathing hard, shaking, loosing his mind. He'd heard it, the shattering of glass, the thump of a body as it hit the floor. John was dead. He was dead and Moriarty had killed him.
Earlier that morning Sherlock was riding in a taxi back from the Scotland Yard, after jailing one of Moriarty's assassins. The case had been simple, this assassin obviously not being one of the master criminal mind's best, or maybe thats what Moriarty had wanted. It was always a game with him.
He was almost to the flat when his phone beeped with a new message. It was from an unknown number
'Play with mine, I'll play with yours. A gun shoots faster than water pours.'
It made no sense to Sherlock, they never did. This was one of the few empty threats he received from Moriarty weekly so he shrugged it off, focusing instead on formulating an experiment on how many days it took for a
Look At Me- JohnlockSherlock, a little friend of yours stopped by - JMLook At Me- Johnlock3 years ago in Romance More Like This
What have you done this time? -SH
Well, he just stopped by to... chat - JM
Do I bother asking who? -SH
Let's see you guess - JM
Please tell me it's Mycroft. -SH
Wrong! - JM
Of course not. I should be so lucky. -SH
When do you think you'll pick him up? I just want to be ready - JM
You're going to just let him go? I don't buy it. -SH
Thats why I said I want to be ready. - JM
Doesn't this get old? The same old jog around the track? Why not, just once, kidnap
Anderson? Just to shake things up? -SH
I guess I should... This time, you have ten minutes or his brains are my new wallpaper.
Ten minutes to what? -SH
Get here. My apartment. He's crying. He still thinks you're dead - JM
God damn you. I'm already on my way. Don't touch him. -SH
Jim smiled and put the phone in his pocket. He held his gun towards John, who was forced with his back into a corner and his hands folded behind his head.
John couldn't believe it, or rather, wouldn'
You Just Can't Without a Heart"I don't even know where to begin..." John started, pacing the room in front of Sherlock, who was sitting in his arm chair, legs pulled to his chest and his eyes trained on John. "...I mean... You left for a week! I didn't know where in bloody hell you were and I was worried sick! I though someone had you, or worse, I thought you were dead!"You Just Can't Without a Heart3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"John..." Sherlock started, his voice low and almost quiet. It was so uncharacteristically like Sherlock to be quiet.
"Stop," John cut him off, holding his hand out to stop Sherlock. "Can you just tell me where you've -been-?!"
Sherlock shook his head, looking down at the floor.
"And why -not-, Sherlock?" John asked, stopping in front of him and crossing his arms, looking at Sherlock down his nose.
"Because, John, I just.... Just can't..." Sherlock said slowly, standing and walking over to John, placing a hand on his arm and getting closer. "Can you understand."
"N-no! I c-can't!" John forced out, shoving the rapid heart rate and struggled breathin
Senses"Sherlock what are you doing?" John asked as his flatmate pulled him out of his chair.Senses4 years ago in Romance More Like This
"I need your help with an experiment. Nothing dangerous I promise." Sherlock assured him, letting the doctor's arm drop to his side once he was on his feet.
John rolled his eyes. "Can't you experiment on yourself? I was reading."
"You can read later. I already did this experiment on myself and I need to know the results are consistent."
Sherlock shook his head. "Can't tell you or you'll think the same thing is happening to you when it really isn't. Power of suggestion and all that. Now, may I start?"
John rolled his eyes but nodded. How bad could it be if Sherlock had already undergone the mysterious experiment and was standing in front of him, as alive and energetic as ever. Sherlock grinned and quickly tied a blindfold over John's eyes.
"Sherlock! What the hell are you doing?" the doctor asked, crying out in surprise.
"Calm down John. I read a while ago that if you cut off one sense
The Detective and His Blogger12:00The Detective and His Blogger3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
I'm at work Sherlock.
I'm aware of your location.
I mean I'm busy.....
No you're on break.
That's beside the point. I could be busy.
But you're not. And I'm bored.
So do an experiment or something.
So drop by Bart's and ask Molly for something. I'm sure she would love to see you.
Yes. But I'd rather not see her.
That's not nice Sherlock.
No it isn't. But why is that relevant?
Why do I bother?
Bother with what?
Nothing. Never mind.
John have you ever thought about us in a romantic sense?
Where the hell did that come from?!
Ms. Hudson just came up. Made a comment about the two of us being so sweet together when she saw I was texting you at the clinic. Everyone else seems to think of us as more than friends.Just curious.
Oh. Well yeah. I suppose.
And I think it sounds
BBC Sherlock - FreakJohn Watson was tired. He was chilled to the bone, exhausted and comprehensively pissed off. As a matter of fact, the last time he had been this angry he'd been lying on the ground with shrapnel in his shoulder.BBC Sherlock - Freak5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
People have the most bizarre reactions to traumatic events, this he knew from his experience from a doctor. He had once met a man with an amputated arm who, still buzzing from adrenaline, had picked up the limb and was using it to hit small rocks like a very macabre game of golf, giggling hysterically all the while. He KNEW people had strange reactions, but nothing quite compared with the actual experience of lying in a gulley in Helmand Province with blood gushing from an open wound, staring at the sky and thinking lividly, 'They shot me! The bastards shot me! That's . . .! That's . . . ! That's just not bloody cricket!'
His current anger had a less dramatic origin however. He and Sherlock had been running around London all day, freezing their arses off and making a very unsat