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
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
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
I Was The One Who Cared After AllI Was The One Who Cared After All3 years ago in Romance More Like This
It was a calm evening at 221b, which came as a surprise to John. It had been weeks since their last case and the latter one had consisted of unruly experiments day and night that stretched from counting the number of times John breathed within an hour as he slept (from which he had been so rudely awakened, Sherlock's face mere inches from his) to Sherlock releasing a pack of mice in the apartment to trace their flight movements, and of course John had to clean up every single mess Sherlock left behind.
Lucky for John, Sherlock had decided instead tonight to focus on composing as John listened silently to the violin melodies, shrills, and soft notes that drifted up the stairs into his room. John sat at his desk having spent the last few hours focused on paperwork from the clinic. The music was relaxing and John almost let himself lapse into a since of calm as his lids began to close until, su
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: UncertaintyA semi-sequel to Like a VirginSherlock BBC: Uncertainty3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Six o'clock in the morning is never the right time to wake up after a drinking session. John Watson moaned and groaned and tried to go back to sleep, but repeated thuds, rustles and beeps coming from the living room rendered his intention impossible.
He opened his eyelids slowly, but the sunlight attacked his pupils with the force of a nuclear blast causing him to put a pillow over his head with a faint hope to block out the dazzling brightness, which pierced right through his skull. He felt as if a herd of elephants was tap dancing inside his brain, his throat was bone dry and the taste inside his mouth indicated that he must have at least munched on a dead cat. He moaned heartbreakingly once again, wishing he was dead. The noises from the living room, without a doubt produced by Sherlock, certainly didn't improve his psychical and mental condition.
When he finally gathered strength to sit up, he started massaging his temples and tried to pull him
I Feel So Close To YouI Feel So Close To You3 years ago in Romance More Like This
There he was, falling away as the masked criminals pulled him away by his dark curls. "Sherlock" John yelled after him. Sherlock's cold eyes stared back silently at him mixed with an emotion he could not quite discern. "Sherlo-" and then the world was a sudden abyss of black and cold.
John awoke to the cold. A damned cold at that. Even during his tour in Afghanistan did the nights ever get this chilly. He opened his eyes to searing white and quickly closed them again. What the hell? He slowly opened his eyes once more and let the blinding light fade to focus. He realized the white light was snow. It was about 10 or 12 feet away from him and he...he looked around, he was under a rock? Quite literally John laid almost snuggly under a rock craig that stretched out ahead of him. Underneath him was hard rock and it's freezing temperature could be felt through John's wool jacket. It had to have be
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: Eight days a weekJust an ordinary morning like many before. Sherlock was sprawled on the couch in his dressing gown, browsing through the newspaper and John was bustling about the kitchen, making breakfast for both of them. He was convinced that if he left Sherlock in charge of his own nourishment, the man would simply die of starvation. A bit not good for the world and for John, so he accepted grudgingly the role of the detective's dietician.BBC Sherlock: Eight days a week3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Something was different that day, though. A characteristic melody came in through the slightly opened kitchen window, breaking the silence that normally permeated the flat at this hour. One of the neighbours was listening loudly to the radio while tinkering with his car.
John smiled to himself, putting the kettle on. He recognised the song immediately, even though it wasn't in English. He had heard it so many times that he knew the lyrics by heart. John didn't plan this, he just started to sing along casually.
"Au soleil, sous la pluie, ŕ midi ou ŕ minuit, il
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
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
teenlock: monday (meeting John's family)John Watson hates Mondays. Everyone hates Mondays: it is a widely accepted rule of anyone old enough to have to go to school or his or her job.teenlock: monday (meeting John's family)2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
This Monday, though... No, not this Monday. After all, it had been a week since he had met the mysterious Sherlock Holmes at the tube in the morning rush hour, and far too long according too John. Every day he had wondered if he would see him again. Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. And on Friday, John had almost given up hope: maybe Sherlock only took the tube on Mondays? Maybe it had been only the once that Sherlock had taken the tube?
But here John was, in the tube and yet again pathetically hoping for the other boy to arrive. Staring at the words forming long sentences of his copy of The Lighthouse, he sat in his seat, worrying his lower lip with his teeth. Tomorrow, Sherlock had said. I'll see you again tomorrow? . His voice echoed in his head, reminding John of it sounding just a bit too low for his age, reminding him of his cur
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
Always Look at the Hands"Always look at the hands first, John."Always Look at the Hands3 years ago in Romance More Like This
That's what he had told him once. He didn't know if John had paid any attention to it, but it was one of his sure-fire methods of deduction. After observing one's hands, you were then to examine the cuffs of their clothing, their trousers, and then the trainers or boots.
One quiet night at Baker Street, John had been lying on the couch reading, but only after an hour or so had dozed off and the book had slumped onto his chest. Sherlock had come into the room, looking for something, but he lost the thought (a rare occurrence for him) when he saw John. Looking so peaceful. He knew that everyone looked peaceful when they slept, but still, he couldn't help but walk over to the couch and just look at him, and after a few minutes, he kneeled beside him to look closer. He took in everything. The way John's breath was deep and how his chest rose and fell, how his hands still held the book, how every once in a while he would swallow and take a de
.:A Study In Sheet:.A bit of time had passed. Sherlock was still lying on the couch in his sheet. His eyes were closed but they opened every now and then. John was sitting in his usual chair with his laptop. He wasn't doing much, just surfing really. Without looking up from his computer, he began to talk..:A Study In Sheet:.3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"You're just gonna stay in that bloody sheet all day?" He paused, glancing up once and then down at the laptop again. He took back his question, "What am I saying? No case, no clothes, I see That should be your new motto. I'll put it on the website "
Sherlock shook his shoulders slightly, making himself more comfortable on the couch. "Still angry ?" He sounded.
"No, no..." sarcasm was John's reply, "I'm used to losing girlfriends due to your shenanigans "
"It's alright " Sherlock's voice was casual.
John sat up and stared at Sherlock with an expression that proclaimed disbelief. "How you figure?"
He heard Sherlock take a deep breath and all he could think was 'Oh, here it comes
Glass and BandagesGlass and Bandages3 years ago in Romance More Like This
"Ow! John, that hurt!" Sherlock yelled and whined at John.
So this is what it had come to, Sherlock thought bitterly. The world's only consulting detective, and one of its most brilliant inhabitants, reduced to a whinging, screaming child, just because of a few injuries. Specifically, glass in his feet. He felt so pathetic and weak.
John eyed him at these words, slight amusement etched into his raised eyebrow and subtle grin as he pulled another shard of glass from his friend's right foot (luckily, his left one had gone unscathed). He had been doing this for nearly an hour, and it hadn't been a pleasant affair for either one of them, he could tell you that much. Let's just say that picking glass out of his friend's dirty and bloody foot was not exactly his idea of a satisfying Saturday morning. And as if doing this wasn't unpleasant enough, every time he had removed a piece, it had always either resulted in Sherlock clenching his teeth, fists, or jaw, crying out in pain, yelli
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
Hot Showers"Sherlock? I'm more than willing to play alongseriously, by all means, keep goingbut I have to ask"Hot Showers3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Sherlock merely purred and John had to shake his head a little to clear his thoughts. Though he certainly wasn't arguing with his current positionpinned against a wall underneath Sherlockhe was understandably confused.
"Are you feeling alright? I mean, I've only just"
"Gotten out of a very hot shower. So hot in fact, that you didn't put on your robe, only a towel to cover your lower half."
"And so hot, that even a minute and 20 seconds later I can still see that your skin is red from where the water scalded youespecially here." Sherlock said, and he pressed his lips to the top of John's shoulder. He smiled when John hummed a mix between a moan and a chuckle. As quick to respond to flirtation as ever, John never had been the blushing, chaste type. Just another thing that Sherlock loved about him: he was quickto catch on an
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
all because of one sheet (Johnlock)"John?"all because of one sheet (Johnlock)3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Mhm?" John looked up from his laptop and raised one eyebrow at his flatmate. "What i-..." He blinked and tried not to concentrate on the completely naked detective in front of him. "Sherlock? What the hell are you doing?"
"I can't find my sheet."
"Put on some clothes!" John stared at his laptop, he didn't dare to look up again, even as Sherlock was laughing.
"I just wanted to ask you, if you have seen my sheet somewhere. But as a result of your reaction I deduce that you haven't. You are ashamed to see your flatmate naked, or possibly like it, because you blushed and you can hardly keep yourself from looking at me again."
"Would you please shut up, Sherlock?"
"I'm right, am I not?"
"Damn, no, Sherlock! You aren't right! And I don't like this experiment very much! I'm begging you, put on some clothes!"
"Why do you think it's an experiment, John? I'm just looking for my sheet, but I can't find it. Maybe Mrs. Hudson put it away..."
"Yeah, maybe." John grumbled. "Go and ask her!"
Sherlock: How to Say I Love YouTitle: How To Say 'I Love You'Sherlock: How to Say I Love You3 years ago in Romance More Like This
Spoilers: A Scandal in Belgravia
Disclaimer: Sherlock belongs to Stephen Moffat, Mark Gatiss, and Sir Aurthur Conan Doyle
Summary: Irene Adler imparts some final wisdom
They were standing on an airfield in Pakistan, him and Irene Adler. She was about to leave on a plane to America, full of homebound soldiers.
"I imagine this is the last time we'll ever see each other," said Sherlock.
"I imagine so," said Irene with all the sentiment Sherlock had, which was none, as they both liked to pretend. "Well It's been fun. Thanks for saving my life."
"I was in the area," he lied.
She turned to go, but stopped. "You know when you told me you'd never begged for mercy in your life?"
" Yes." Sherlock was confused as to what this had to do with anything.
"You have though."
"I have not," Sherlock scoffed.
"Yes you have. I saw you."
"In my sitting room. When they were going to kill John if you
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'
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
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