BBC SH - Reunion - LestradeHis phone rang.BBC SH - Reunion - Lestrade3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Lestrade sighed and reached for it, noticing how Donovan looked over her shoulder at him from where she was driving the car. "Hello?"
"Sir," He recognised Evelyn's voice. Young, relatively new, he had recognised her potential when she first joined and helped her learn the ropes. As such Sergeant Evelyn 'Evie' Makepeace was fiercely loyal to him.
Even now after everything that had happened.
He sighed. "I'm not 'Sir' anymore Evie. I'm just Greg, remember?"
To her credit, Donovan tried not to look too smug at that.
"Whatever you say, Sir." Evie said, slightly darkly. "You need to get back, Sir. Fast."
"Why? What's wrong?"
"Someone you need to see."
" . . . You'll want to see for yourself, Sir."
"Wha . . . Look, alright . . . We're an hour and fifteen minutes away. Tell whoever it is they might want to go away and come back later."
There was a pause.
"He said he'd wait."
Lestrade frowned. That did sound odd. Informers never lingered long at the Yard for fear they mig
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
Sweets Chapter One - JohnlockChapter One - A replacement for the nicotine patchesSweets Chapter One - Johnlock3 years ago in Romance More Like This
The case Sherlock was working on was far from being solved. Although he should have enough information to do so there was no progress. Sherlock couldn't think of the right conclusion that fitted all the facts. All possibilities he thought of left something that didn't fit the facts. So Sherlock's mood wasn't the best and John had gone out to buy something sweet to eat.
Sherlock noticed that he was out of nicotine patches, which was pretty bad in his current state, but he was too lazy to text John about this problem. He decided that he would wait until the doctor would come back and then ask him to buy him some.
An hour had passed when he heard John coming upstairs, and he bent his head a little when the door opened so that he could look at John.
"John could you get me some nicotine patches?" he saw John's mouth twitch. Maybe he should have texted him after all, but his mobile was in his coat. It never crossed his mind to go a
Breakfast8:04Breakfast3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Breakfast is ready.
I've prepared breakfast. Come downstairs.
You made breakfast!?
Isn't that what I just said?
You're serious? You made breakfast?
You're rather slow this morning. When I said I would shag you senseless I didn't mean to do so literally.
No - It's just - You never cook.
That doesn't mean I'm incapable of doing so.
Never said you couldn't. I'm just surprised you did. Are you up to something?
What would I be up to that would result in breakfast?
I don't know. Experiment maybe? Broke something and this is your apology.
If it was an experiment notifying you would alter the results. And your second suggestion is simply preposterous.
You're right. Apologizing isn't your style.
I do apologize!
Only on the rarest of occasions and certainly not in advanced.
So does this have anything to do with our being newlyweds?
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
Sherlock : TextsThank you. Please, take care of him. Watch after him SHSherlock : Texts4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Oh, I know. I'll water him twice a week Molly
Don't, Molly. Don't try to joke SH
Sorry - Molly
How is he? SH
Depressed. He misses you Molly
I knew he would. SH
How about you? How are you? Molly
Bored. And terrified by food. That bigos thing looks strange SH
Oh! I heard it's good! Fetch me some? Molly
How? I won't be in London for... I don't know how long SH.
Here, have a picture of bigos SH
You're right. It looks strange Molly
He got himself a puppy Molly
Oh God. It's worse than I thought SH
Yup. It's a bulldog. Gladstone! It's drooling everywhere and it's rather lazy Molly
He should have gotten himself a Labrador. At least he didn't call him Sherlock SH
He was thinking about it. I told him it was stupid Molly
Thank you SH
He has a girlfriend Molly
Her name is Mary. She's nic
John's BirthdaySherlock lay on the couch, his hands steepled under his chin, thinking. Tomorrow was John's birthday. They should celebrate. But how? A few ideas came to mind. He could throw a party. No, he thought. Sherlock didn't like parties; they were to noisy, too many things happening all at once. A party was crossed out on his mental list. They could go to the cinema. No, they tried that once before when they went on a date and John got annoyed at him for predicting what would happen. They also got thrown out because he was being too loud. Cinema got crossed out. They could go out. No, they went out too often, it wouldn't be special. Going out was crossed out. He could go buy a cake and just have a quiet night in. No, he can't buy a cake and hide it from John on such short notice. Buying a cake was crossed out. He could bake a cake. It can't be too hard. Just follow the recipe and it should turn out fine, right? Right. Baking a cake it is then. But what flavor? Maybe he could do a marble cake,John's Birthday3 years ago in Romance More Like This
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
Yes, Damn itLately Sherlock had taken to sending John little quizzes and riddles and tests, apparently in an attempt to sharpen his mind. He was constantly pestering him with cryptic texts, many of which John refused to bother with anymore because his brain felt like mush from solving the last one. Still, he had to admit it was kind of fun. He found himself almost anticipating the next challenge, and growing a bit more competitive, trying to work it out faster each time to beat his own record. The fact that Sherlock would even ask him to try and match wits with him was almost like a compliment, although it usually turned out as an excuse to be impatient with him. He was getting better at it, although many times it seemed that Sherlock was irritated with him even when he got the right answer. He hadn’t decided if there was really something else he was missing, of if Sherlock just couldn’t stand to admit he’d gotten something right.Yes, Damn it3 years ago in Romance More Like This
BBC SH - Valentine's ExplanationsTwo men were sat on a train, slumped comfortably into their chairs with the contented knowledge of a job well done.BBC SH - Valentine's Explanations4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The sun was setting and the cool February sky was bathing them with a warm pink glow. The cool blast of air from the open train door as passengers got on and off the stationary train was a mild irritant but only drew more attention to the soft, drowsy aura of warmth surrounding the seated passengers.
The satisfaction of the completed case had made Sherlock unusually relaxed, and he slouched into the soft woollen cocoon of his coat, eyes scanning the other passengers in a lazily observant manner.
"Alright John," He murmured. "The two men over there. Which one of them is the teacher? Go."
John smiled slightly as they continued their 'game'. "Right . . . they're both reading the children's exercise books . . . but the dark-haired one is actually marking them. He's the teacher."
"Excellent. And what subject are the books on?"
"Maths. No other exercise books come wi
Meeting Mummy1:27Meeting Mummy3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Can you buy some rat poison?
I want to make cookies
With rat poison?
Yes. They're a gift.
Oh. I'm not letting you poison Donovan.
They aren't for Donovan.
Not letting you poison Anderson
Not for him either.
Took you long enough.
Third time's a charm.
Has nothing to do with charm. It's process of elimination.
Figure of speech Sherlock.
Why do you want to poison Mycroft?
Do I need a reason to poison my brother?
He told Mummy about us.
Oh. Is that a problem?
Yes. Now she wants to meet you.
And that's a problem because?
Do you fancy spending a weekend with a cross between Mycroft and Ms Hudson?
She's your mother.
Her biological relation to me doesn't make her less irritating.
Maybe not but you can't ignore you're mother.
And what about the re
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
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
Third Day of Christmas - Sherlock x ReaderThird Day of Christmas - Sherlock x Reader9 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
The Christmas decorations had been set up throughout the apartment. Sherlock had helped when he wasn't too busy in his mind palace or complaining about not having a case. And it was voluntary. (Y/N), a companion of his that he had known for some time, had decided that it was a good idea to decorate the apartment in order to celebrate Sherlock's first Christmas back home after leaving for too years.
At first, the man had grumbled about it, asking what was the point of it. The woman had assumed it was because he was still bitter about John moving about, but she had assured him plenty of times that both him and Mary were spending Christmas here with them - even if he didn't believe it at first. But, after she had brought the decorations down and began to put them up herself, he finally came around.
Now, the entire apartment had been decorated and she was rather proud of her work. The tree had been set up in front of one of the windows and tinsel hung on the mantelpiece and over the mirror
ReunionJohn sat at his laptop, staring at the empty space on his blog. It had been a while since he had sat down to type something intelligent and interesting, but today he felt he should write something. Anything. Today was the anniversary of Sherlock's - his old roomate and best-friend's death. John deemed today to be an appropriate day to pay homage in some small way. He began to type.Reunion3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Three years. Three years today. There is so much to say, but cannot be expressed in words. I used to wonder why he did what he did. I still don't know why. All I hope is he is somewhere better. I believe in Sherlock Holmes. I still continue to do so. He was my best friend.
John hit the send button, and his blog was updated. He stared at the screen blankly for a few minutes, before resting his head in his hands. He inhaled deeply, like his therapist had directed him to do, and exhaled, trying to relax his trembling limbs. He expected it to get easier. With each passing anniversary of Sherlock's death, time wa
Sleepy John - Johnlock ...ishJohn rubbed his tired eyes. He hadn't slept for two... Three days? He couldn't remember. He shoved the thought from his mind, knowing they only made him sleepier. He sipped his second cup of coffee, though the caffeine didn't help much at this point.Sleepy John - Johnlock ...ish3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock stared at John as he worked, noticing his exhaustion in the multiple yawns and his occasionally nodding off. He frowned in slight confusion. It's only been two and a half days since John has slept. That wasn't long at all. Sherlock didn't feel exhausted until at least a week. But then again, Sherlock wasn't like most people. It only took a third cup of coffee for Sherlock to realize that John needed sleep to function.
"When did you last have a decent sleep?" The question slips out before he can take it back. He knows exactly how long it's been since John slept last. 60 hours.
It takes John a moment to realize a question had been asked and another moment to process it. He answers with a slight shrug, "Two, three days?" Instead of a
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
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
Kiss Mycroft, He's Wasted"Sherlock, we need to get your brother drunk."Kiss Mycroft, He's Wasted3 years ago in Humor More Like This
Sherlock and John looked up from the Cluedo board, recently removed from the far wall, to see a frazzled, frowning Greg Lestrade standing in the doorway of 221B.
"What?" John looked flabbergasted and amused, grinning when his eyes met Sherlock's.
Greg flopped down onto the couch with a sigh. "He showed up at the Yard again and started telling me how to improve my surveillance for the Braxton case. In front of the Detective Superintendent, who then asked me why I had brought my boyfriend to work. Donovan and Anderson had a field day, everyone was laughing at me "
"Surely you're above caring what people think?" Sherlock was focused on the Cluedo board, only a small grin betraying his glee.
"Well, yeah, but I don't tell him how to do his job, whatever it is. He needs to just get off my back and- I swear, I haven't seen him do anything fun-"
"Mycroft, having fun? While you're clearly dazzled by whatever
Sherlock's Excuse To Get CuddlesJohn Watson was woken up by someone sliding into his bed with him and wrapping their slender arms around his waist, pressing against his back. At first, he wanted to push away and ask who decided they could get in his bed without his permission. But since he was too tired to do that option, he let the intruder cuddle close. He had always been a sap for cuddling, anyways. Even if he didn't let anyone know. Even if this could be Moriarty about to kill him. He was just too damn tired to do anything about it. Living with Sherlock Holmes really put a strain on John's life. So he could enjoy these few moments with however decided to come into his room and cuddle him, if only for a while, until Sherlock did something stupid or woke him up to complain that he was bored.Sherlock's Excuse To Get Cuddles3 years ago in Romance More Like This
He felt soft hair against the back of his neck and a nose on his shoulder blade. It was nice, and John, sleepy and disoriented, enjoyed spooning with whoever this was. He pushed against the bed intruder slightly, bringin
Don't Ask - Sherlock x ReaderWhy of all days had he decided to ask me to come with him? He knows that I'm in a bad mood. He knows that I do not want to change out of my pajamas, or go outside or even talk to another human being never mind going out to a crime scene to watch him make idiots out of everyone. I took this week off for a reason. I demanded that no one speak to me unless it was dire for a reason. John seemed to get that pretty easily. Sherlock, on the other hand, had completely and utterly ignored that statement.Don't Ask - Sherlock x Reader11 months ago in General Fiction More Like This
Someone has managed to shove their hands into my lower torso and are twisting and twisting every organ that they can get their hands on. I just want to go back home and change back into comfy clothes, curled up on the sofa with a blanket and hot water bottle while watching something on TV. But that will not be happening any time soon.
I knew that from the way Sherlock was excitedly bounding up the stairs while I pulled myself up by the railing as a shooting pain hit my back.
"I swear to God he
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
BBC Sherlock - StudentsDr. John Watson shook his head in bemusement as he entered the flat.BBC Sherlock - Students5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He could smell food, Carbonara if he wasn't mistaken. This could only mean one thing.
One of Sherlock's lesser known but more endearing habits was his tendency, when a case had been solved, to make up for his lack of eating and sleeping during his investigation. Running on the glee and adrenaline high of being proved right, he would go whipping around the kitchen like a whirlwind as he ate half his body-weight in food before crashing on the sofa and sleeping for about twenty hours solid. As the detective found the depression and boredom of inactivity began to sink in soon after, John had learned to savour the time while it lasted as soon after he knew Sherlock would be shooting holes in the walls again.
As John entered their front room, his eyes were automatically drawn to the sofa.
Sherlock was curled up on the sofa in an angular tangle of elbows, knees and lanky legs. He was snoring quietly, one hand resting on Glad
Misfits: BBC SherlockxReader Being “brilliant” definitely had its perks, I had to admit. Sure, it was great I was saving so much money for my family by being able to enter graduate school at the young age of twenty -- under a scholarship, no less -- and school had always been a snap for me. Unfortunately, those seemed to be the only advantages of being “brilliant;” everything else sucked.Misfits: BBC SherlockxReader2 years ago in Humor More Like This
It turned out the big kids didn’t like playing with someone who was sometimes five years their junior, and seeing as there weren’t any other students in graduate school who were my age, I didn’t have any friends. I was always alone, with my “brilliant, gifted” mind.
It was a Sunday morning, and so I made my way to the dining hall to eat. I hated going there: dozens of long tables built to hold hundreds of students, none of which were my friends and sneered at me if I so much looked in their directio