SH-The Ghost of Covent Garden1John Watson was rapidly losing his patience. His jaw was clenched, his teeth were gritted and he could feel a vein twitching in his forehead. He knew his poker face left much to be desired and even now he could feel his expression dissolving into one of utter disgust.SH-The Ghost of Covent Garden14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
That however was nothing compared to the expression of outright loathing on Sherlock Holmes's face.
John looked as though he was two inches away from slapping their 'client'. Sherlock looked as though he was two millimetres from going for John's gun.
Their client was a young woman who was thin, verging on emaciation, and almost offensively blonde. She was a professional classic soprano at the Royal Opera House in Covent Garden. They had already heard a lot too much about her 'big break' at the opera house, her 'darling' audience and her precious muse. Both John and Sherlock had already noted the girl's jittery demeanour and bad habit of sniffing regularly, and were both of the opinio
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
BBC SH - Unspoken TruthsThere is no terror comparable to a nightmare.BBC SH - Unspoken Truths3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Certainly, terrible things happen in the waking world and they shatter your heart into glassy shards of pain. But after a while the feelings become too big to comprehend. You just feel numb. You tell yourself that you must be asleep, that none of this is real. A simple act of kindness from your brain in an attempt to deal with the dreadful reality. Shh, it says, it's alright, you may be asleep. You may wake up yet . . .
Of course you never do, but you can cling to that tiny little notion and use it as your lifeline until your heart settles enough to process the truth. You see that the horror is real. You waver but stand tall. Then you gently let go of the comfort of delusion and take your first step on the road to acceptance.
Nightmares have so such sense of mercy. Nightmares worm black tendrils deep into the heart of you and find the piece that hurts the most, curling around it and whispering treacherously that this is your reality now.
I never thought......I never thoughtI never thought......5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Never thought I'd fall in love
Now I stand corrected
I can't help but smile at the sight of John sleeping next to me. He looks so peaceful, so innocent. You wouldn't believe he'd been in a war. But it doesn't matter how happy he is now, there are still scars. And there always will be. John slowly opens his eyes and smiles. "Did you sleep well?" I whisper and he replies with a kiss. I don't want to get up; I want to stay in this bubble forever. But I know it can't last. It's Tuesday and there's been a triple murder that needs to be solved. But murders happen all the time and I really can't be bothered to resolve all of them.
Never thought I'd feel what I feel
Never been so affected
I never thought I would ever find true love, especially not with Sherlock. At first I thought he was just strange and plain weird. But he's grown on me, in the best possible way. Its ten thirty and we should have been out solving crimes hours ago. Sherlock s
Obsessed With Sherlock Holmes Top 45 Ways You Can Pretty Much Be Sure You Are A SherlockianObsessed With Sherlock Holmes4 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
1. You've called every "consulting detective" in the book and told them to get real.
2. Whenever you answer the phone, you ask, "Afghanistan or Iraq?"
3. You have or will live(d) in a '221 B Baker Street' come hell or high water.
4. When someone asks you why you do something, you reply, "That's what people DO!"
5. BBC, Granada, Warner Bros... you've seen them all.
6. In the shows, the Holmes is always perfect for the Watson, and vice versa.
7. You have your Watson...(and maybe you even call him Watson?)
8. No matter who it is, Holmes' portrayal is spot on.
9. You analyze people to the point where it's just plain creepy.
10. You do your research.
11. Rache or Rachel?
12. You know someone who lowers the IQ on the entire street.
13. Constantly show up the police, give them credit anyway.
14. You ship EVERYone.
15. Football and five kids....
16. You get the previous two.
17. You know what happened between Adler and Holme
Home- BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 1221B Baker St.Home- BBC Watson x Reader Chpt. 12 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
You wondered if your brother, Sherlock, would be surprised to see you or if he would have anticipated your return. You hoped he’d be surprised as you adjusted the duffle over your shoulder. You rummaged around in the pocket of your military issue camouflage pants for the set of keys you always carried.
You hadn’t bothered to change when the plane had landed, instead opting to go straight home in uniform, pulling off your jacket to reveal the white tank top underneath so you could enjoy the cool London air.
Quickly unlocking the door, you forced yourself to take the stairs slowly and with the upmost stealth even though you were itching to bound up them excitedly. You carefully skipped the squeaky step, holding your dog tags so they wouldn’t clink together as you did, and came to a stop in front of the door. You caressed the knob lightly with a slight smile- Home.
It was unlocked you noted, meaning he was home or that Mrs. Hudson was cleaning, but t
The Three People to See Sherlock's HeartThe Three People to See Sherlock's Heart4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock Holmes had a heart. A strong, athletically trained (from all that running, climbing, and jumping of course) moderately healthy considering the abuse it had had to take, heart. After all, he was still young.
Sherlock Holmes' heart beat at fifty beats per minute when at rest, and upwards to near two hundred when he was running really hard. These were the facts. He'd never had a murmur or a skipped beat in his life- Sherlock's heart was as practical to his uses and as mechanical as the rest of him.
Or so he thought.
The first one to notice that Sherlock Holmes possessed a much more tender heart than anyone else ever thought was Mrs. Hudson. Sure, Mycroft in his own way had noticed a kind of vulnerable and soft spot near his brother's impenetrable center, but he possessed the same rational that Sherlock did and paid little attention. Mrs. Hudson on the other hand saw something in this callous young detective, the way his silvery eyes sparked with excitement when he would talk of h
SH: After the Bombs Chapter IIJohn swallowed. Desperately he looked around the room. Expecting an envelope or a phone. In his panic, John could only think of the last time Moriarty had send Sherlock a message. The case he had come to call The Great Game.SH: After the Bombs Chapter II5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Lestrade's brow furrowed. He looked at Sherlock then at John. He seemed unsure whether to show it to them. But eventually he signalled to someone standing behind Sherlock and John. It was Donavon. As usual she did little to disguise her hatred for Sherlock, however she didn't say anything and the short glance toward John told Sherlock this wasn't going to be pleasant.
Donavon handed over a small plastic evidence bag. Lestrade took it and held it up so both John and Sherlock could see its contents. It was a small scalpel. Clean and shining, but all the more terrifying for it.
John felt trepidation building inside, but he couldn't understand why. And why had Lestrade thought this was a message for Sherlock from Moriarty? It was just a knife, a scalpel, it was
BBC Sherlock - Rugby and ChaosJohn Watson was so drunk that if you put a wick in his mouth and lit it the sheer amount of alcohol in his system meant that he would probably burn for a fortnight or more.BBC Sherlock - Rugby and Chaos4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
His old regiment was back from Afghanistan on leave and some of the soldiers, both active and discharged, had decided to meet for a round of drinks and a catch up.
As soon as the small, tawny-haired man walked through the door of the Dozy Panda pub (bizarrely enough considering the unorthodox name it was largely frequented by military personnel as the food was good, the alcohol cheap and the landlord was a very strange man who provided much amusement . . .) he had been greeted with a bellowing round of cheers from his fellow soldiers and he couldn't have stopped his massive smile if he had tried. The relief upon seeing so many familiar faces was absolutely great.
John, being the amiable man that he was, was well liked amongst the soldiers particularly because, out of the twenty seven men in the room, he had saved fo
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
Incantations and Deductions SHObviously it took years for them to ever get around to speaking to each other. Sherlock reasoned that it was natural: as well as being in different, some might even say rival, houses, there was also the social class divide and the fact that Sherlock always gave off the general air of someone who never wanted to talk to anyone, in his life, ever. As a general rule Sherlock felt that unless someone was directly benefitting him by being alive in his presence he would do his best to tolerate them, but if not they could bloody well bugger off and do their dull living /breathing /sleeping /eating /talking /having fun business somewhere else.Incantations and Deductions SH5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
His mother said it was just his age, that teenage years were awkward, his anti social nature was a phase he was going through. Sherlock rather suspected that it wasn't so much his age as his life. And he wasn't awkward, he was perfectly poised. It was the rest of the world that was awkward and unpredictable and usually mundane but occasionally
Sherlock- ReunionATTENTION: CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE END OF SEASON 2. DO NOT READ IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE REINBACH FALL. Or, you know, do. If you don't care about spoilers.Sherlock- Reunion4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Sherlock Holmes was
John couldn't finish the sentence.
His hand curled and uncurled, the nervous tick that used to ail him returning. It had been doing that almost without stop since that day. The day that replayed in his memory over and over, each time bringing an overwhelming wave of emotion, mixing from disbelief to horror to pain that stabbed him in a place no bullet could ever puncture. Sherlock's arms pinwheeling, his iconic coat tails billowing like wings oh if only they had been wings to stop his fall. The pavement hadn't done a very nice job of it.
Sherlock Holmes was
John was limping again. Psychosomatic, his therapist said. Like Sherlock had said. The shock from the loss was bringing it back just like the tremor in his hand. Not that the therapist had been able to do anything about it. John didn't know
SH - Cold SkinSH - Cold Skin4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Loneliness was always testing me. At times it did not bother me at all. At other times it was driving me mad. Still does. Yes, how it makes me feel useless now...
I have always been known as a cold man. But not without a heart. No, one person thought I actually had heart. Though, at times I doubted it myself.
Baker Street was always very quiet, when my dear friend Watson was not around. The quiet peace was not always the same. Sometimes I indeed needed time to be alone with my thoughts. And Watson had his practice of cause. It would not be different without a case.
This time was different. At least it was going to be.
Watson had been gone to his medical practice for a couple of days, and I was left alone. That was why I was sitting restlessly against a wall in the corner of the room with Gladstone beside me, throwing small crumbled pieces of paper, trying to hit a bowl some feet away from me.
No case had been brought to the table. Not a single mystery. Even Gladstone looked impatient,
I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES: Part 2I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES: Part 23 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Just having someone made things nicer. It wasn't really anything different from the usual, just nicer. Things were the same around, but over time there was always some kind of change.
I like making sure he's safe. Just because it would be a shame if he were gone from this world. Nothing would change really, but my life personally would be much more mundane. I dont really understand the loyalty he poses...whether its truely real or not. Perhaps something his trainning instilled with him over time, but as it is directed towards me personally it has been one of the little factors about John that has confused me slightly. Not that I dont appreciate it, I quite enjoy it to be honest. It is nice to have him above anyone else around. From his character he will surely find a decent enough woman though, someone to spend his life with to its intiretity. Why he inists on staying here is strange, something I find myself pondering in later hours of the night, or when I
Puttering Around(11th Doctor, Amy, Rory, River)Puttering Around3 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
All they wanted, was to play a little golf...
The Doctor wiggled his backside and lined up his shot very carefully. With a well measured tap he sent the ball rolling. And completely missed the cup.
"Hah!" Amy said, and licked her pencil, she wrote down his score with a flourish. "My turn!"
She grabbed her putter from where it leaned against a cheap plastic statue of an angel and flagrantly tapped her ball into the hole, it had been practically sitting on the rim anyway. "Par for me!" she said cheerily.
The Doctor pulled a grumpy face and glared down at the ground. "Yes, well, I'm used to playing on real grass, not this astroturffy stuff," he said, scuffing his boot on the thin prickly green carpet that lined the putt-putt lane.
"Break time!" Rory called as he and River wended their way through the convoluted courses of the miniature golf course. He held up a cardboard tray that held three drinks. River, beside him, held up a tray stuffed with chip
Song of the Lone CenturionWhen I woke up in ancient RomeSong of the Lone Centurion5 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
Two thousand years away from home
A lump of plastic for a heart
My girl, I swore I'd do my part.
Two thousand years may seem too long
But Heaven knows, love is that strong
The slow path I said I would take
Two thousand years, then you would wake.
I'd never known that years had wings
Until I'd seen a hundred springs
A hundred springs, with winters too
My girl, what is this man to do?
For years have wings but days drag on
As I stand by through times long gone
For I stand tall where others chafed
My girl, I swore to keep you safe.
A hundred springs with winters too,
Do you still know that I loved you?
There in your long enchanted sleep
Unknowing bliss, in dreams so deep
I'll tell you, though you cannot hear
I'm not a hero, I feel fear
This world is such a restless place
So lacking order peace or grace
When will I see your face?
Meanwhile They guessed, but little knew
The decades passed, the tales grew
They told of one in Roman garb
Whose duty was to ever gua
SH: The Best Gifts Are FreeSH: The Best Gifts Are Free3 years ago in Romance More Like This
The Best Gifts Are Free
"I've got something for you."
"I know." Sherlock broke his moody stare at the opposite wall to watch John settle beside him on the sofa. "You've been anxious about it for several days. I don't want anything for Christmas, and I've already told you-,"
"And you hate repeating yourself, yes." John dropped the small plainly-wrapped box in Sherlock's lap defiantly. "And I don't give a fig what you don't want. It's special. It comes with an explanation, so could you be still for five minutes?" He shifted restlessly as Sherlock shook the box, muttering to himself. "Just open it."
"Fine." Sherlock sniffed haughtily, obviously miffed that he hadn't been able to declare the contents. He carefully tore at the edges of the paper and creaked the tiny lid open. John relished the subtle perplexed frown as Sherlock held up the bullet, turning it over in his thin fingers.
"Used; some time ago, several years at least. It's a-,"
Secret SantaThe Doctor and River take Amy and Rory to a world where Secret Santa has been raised to a whole new level.Secret Santa3 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
"Where are the sleigh bells?" Amy asked, rummaging through the boxes and bags scattered all over the Tardis floor.
Rory turned around, covered in Christmas tree lights, he had a neat loop of them around his neck and around both shoulders, like a bright bandolier. He was methodically unwinding them as he draped them around the artificial purple Christmas tree the Doctor had dug out of the hold.
"Not me," he said, sucking around the haft of a green candy cane. Amy looked up and shook her head in fond exasperation at him, only he would so practically hang lights on a tree that way.
"Not me!" the Doctor said from the base of the main stairs up on the console floor. He brandished a spatula. He was covered in frosting, a Rudolph the Rednosed Reindeer apron, and was building a rather lopsided gingerbread house, with liberal use of multi-colored frosting and sprinkles.
"I've got th
MiscommunicationJohn had been acting strangely. Ever since the incident at the pool with Moriarty he had been skittish. He might have thought Sherlock didn't notice but of course he did. Every time they were in a room together John would make an excuse to leave. He would be sitting in his chair when Sherlock would come into the room and sit down on the sofa. Within minutes John would start twitching, his hands would clench and unclench and he would start looking over his shoulder. Then he would rise and go up to his room or leave to do the shopping. Or just leave, no excuse given.Miscommunication4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
At first Sherlock thought it was just normal nerves. The man had been strapped to a bomb, it was normal not to want to stay still for too long. Movement made you harder to catch. But he seemed to have no trouble staying still for long periods of time when the consulting detective wasn't within his range of vision. He knew because he'd followed him one day and watched him sit on a park bench for an hour and a half.
DaddySometimes River would catch Rory just staring at her. She knew he was looking for his daughter.Daddy2 years ago in Sci-Fi More Like This
Sometimes River would find Rory staring at her. He tried not to be obvious about it, but she could feel his eyes cataloging each of her features. Memorizing them, almost desperately drinking them down.
It was strange, she knew he was memorizing his daughter’s features. But this was Rory. She’d played tag with him as a child. Watched him being a total wet rag where it came to Amy and generally grew up with him, knowing him as the loyal but somewhat pathetic dork.
It was disconcerting to have him staring at her. Oh, she’d always known she was his daughter. It had been a bit of a secret joke when she was Mels. But now. Now it hurt. Because now he knew. He’d held her as an infant, and cried over how beautiful she was.
He had the heart and soul of a father. And she could never give him his baby back.
She felt his eyes on her again.
She turned abruptly in the
Curl Up and Dye SxJIt should be amusing actually, John thinks to himself. Had he really just not let himself notice? He'd been living with a man who forced him to notice things, who got disappointed in John when he couldn't see something that to Sherlock was just so bloody obvious it didn't even need one whole brain cell to notice it, work out what it meant and file it away. He had a feeling that if Sherlock had even the first inkling of what John was thinking now he'd get that look on his face which Mrs Clarkson would get when he handed in an essay on Alexander Pope late, riddled with spelling mistakes. "Really, John you must try harder next time."Curl Up and Dye SxJ5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock has had a haircut. Brilliant deduction so far, Watson, keep going old boy. His hair is now just a shade from being the length of a military recruit, dark fuzz covering his head where once it was those minky curls that looked so thick and soft, like you could bury hands into and loose them... and this is what John can'
Moriarty x reader Chpt. 1- The BakerWe need help.Moriarty x reader Chpt. 1- The Baker2 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Those were the last three words that John had ever thought would come out of Sherlock’s mouth.
Even Sherlock seemed rather disgusted by the notion, but it was true nonetheless, and it wasn’t doing them any good to ignore it. He knew that there was something he was missing. He had been going over the case for days now to no avail and time was running out.
Sherlock scowled as he pulled out his phone and dialed the number of the person he despised most and waited as it rang twice before a voice answered, “This is a pleasant surprise Sherlock. But, as you know I’m very busy, I shall assume that there is a pressing reason for you calling.”
“I need to know where she is Mycroft.”
John jumped, had Sherlock just called Mycroft willingly? This couldn’t be real. He pinched himself to make sure which Sherlock noticed rolling his eyes.
“If that is all you are calling for then let me get back to my work because I shan’t be tel
I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES Part: 1I BELIEVE IN SHERLOCK HOLMES Part: 13 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
It has been four weeks since John had been able to look at a newspaper or turn on the television.
He only answered his own mobile if it was Lestrade or the office(Mycroft soon gave up on trying to
As well as, had yet to disconnect the home phone, and usually let the phone ring out the answering machine.
His answering machine rang out, as he sipped a cup of cold tea.
Hey, it's Viv from work! Wondering if you wanted to catch a bite later? Call me!
Her tone was inked with cheerfulness, possibly attempting to shake a little John's way. Lord knows he could use it. She was a new assistant at the clinic he was working at, quite pretty, but also quite taken with the Sherlock Holmes suicide.
The StairwellEverybody worried about Amy losing her baby. Sometimes people forget Rory lost his baby as well.The Stairwell3 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"How are you doing, Rory?" the Doctor asked. He'd found the young father sitting in a stairwell in a remote part of the Tardis.
Amy was busy fixing sandwiches for lunch. It had been three days since they'd left River with the Sisters of the Infinite Schism, and gradually things were getting back to normal.
Except things weren't normal.
Rory was hunched up on the stairs, sitting crossways, he was smoothing something over and over and over on his knee. He didn't look up. The Doctor sat down beside him. He saw what the boy was holding was the prayer leaf from River's cradle.
Rory looked up, his face was wet and red, his eyes puffy. He glared at the Doctor with very old eyes. "I'm never going to see her again."
"Oh, she'll come looking for us," the Doctor waved airily, knowing full well that's not what he meant.
"Not River," Rory said with that mile-deep calm. "My baby." A single tear tr