bedtime- Fanfiction for Fan Art"And so he's done it again, saving London from certain danger and managing to insult not only most of Scotland Yard and his brother but also a few foreign ambassadors in the process. But however much it may annoy people to admit, we really would be in a lot of trouble if it wasn't for the world's only consulting detective. If only he could just stop filling the utensils drawer with fingers and toes."More Like This
I typed the last sentence and yawned. The late night blogging was really starting to get to me. We'd been so busy with cases that I was awake until the early hours every night trying to keep the blog up to date. Rubbing my eyes, I rested my head on my hand. Now I just had to find a cheap replacement for the latest of Sherlock's kitchen appliance casualties and I could finally go to bed.
Suddenly I heard familiar footsteps behind me. There was a hand on my shoulder, sliding gently into the middle of my back. I glanced up and saw Sherlock looking down at me. His brow was furrowed with a look
Mystrade: Brother DearestBrother DearestMore Like This
'Brother… it's been two years since you passed away and I have yet to tell myself to stop writing to you, every day I place these silly letters on your grave only to return the next day and find them gone… perhaps the wind blew them away… or perhaps someone snatched the letters, it doesn’t really matter, you can't read them anyway… Still I convince myself everyday that I should write to you because of…. 'Him' he said it might help.
Yes, indeed… I have changed a lot since you had left us; I'm not sure how it happened…. It's been raining a lot as well, every night I could hear the endless drops of rain tapping on my windows, on the roof, and on the grounds of London. Everyone… They're still grieving over you; they still hold on to the fake hope, the voice in the back of their heads that tells them you're still alive and one day you'd return to them.
I'm writing this letter to you from the uncomfortable hospital