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This fanfic is dead. I am just not feeling it and do not plan to continue writing it. I will continue the story of Sherlock and (f/n) Moriarty eventually but not here atleast. I'm sorry.

Moving to London was something you always dreamed of. You never knew why but ever cense you were a little girl you were drawn to the city, it was calling your name. Even better your job back in America had placed you exactly where you wanted to be. Working for Scotland Yard. Detective Inspector Lestrade was who sent you on your duties and cases. You entered Lestrade's office just as he was getting off the phone with someone. "(f/n)! Just the person I was looking for," he said with an apologetic smile. "Um, why?" Anytime he was looking for you it never ended well. "I've got a case for you. A big one this time." "Who am I working under th

John slowly awoke to someone shaking his shoulder. He squinted slightly against the faint light flowing in through the window. Turning his head slightly he found Sherlock standing beside him and his face quickly heated up as he sat forward. "You still have too go to school," Sherlock muttered before stepping away. John ran his hands over his face. He had fallen asleep listening to Sherlock playing his violin. The rate of his heart sky rocketed as he turned to the clock. Six fifteen. Did Sherlock still wake up this early even though he was not aloud to attend school for the rest of the week? "What are you doing awake Sherlock?" Sherlock ga

The next morning was just like before. The slow wake up and the chilling walk to school, except John was still confused about the previous night. John just couldn't shake the thought. Who Sherlock was utterly confused him to the core. The boy was a mystery, a mystery, that for some odd reason, John wanted to get involved with. John was trading books between his bag and his locker when he caught the sounds of cheering and shouting. He looked down the hall and found a crowded circle of people, all yelling while throwing their fists in the air or cupping their hands around their mouths to appear louder. "No! No stop it! Leave him alone!" John'

It had been almost a week sense John's feelings were set free but he was not sure how to feel about the situation. Sherlock said to Mycroft that John was his boyfriend and had even confirmed the fact with John when he had asked, yet nothing seemed to have changed. Sherlock was just as distant and empty, except for at night. John would always return to his own room, tired and confused after trying to get Sherlock to express his feelings all day. But at the same time every night he would wake up to find Sherlock curled up against him. He would smile and forget that their relationship made no sense. "Why do we do this? This is not something our

You sighed in blissful pleasure as you were awoken from your sleep by a cold hand running down your body. "Goodmorning Sherly," you mumbled. You opened your eyes to find him smiling at you warmly as you began to twirl one of his curls around your finger. "John's here," Sherlock began with a smirk. "He walked came in late and fell asleep on the couch. He'll be suspicious. Wonder if he heard your screaming last night." You felt your face heat up and the detectives let out a small laugh. You grunted as he got up and slipped his trousers on, pulling his blue robe over it. "Come out when you are ready, (f/n). You have work to do today," with

It had been a month sence the two boys had run off together. It was not all that John had hoped it would be. Sherlock was still reserved, hardly ever slept, and when he did it was only because he passed out on the couch, he never ate and spent most of his time on experiments. However, every now and then he would snuggle into bed against John, wrapping his arms around the boy tightly. These times were John's favorite, but they did not happen often. John was sitting on the front porch, a blanket around his shoulders and a warm cup of tea in his hands. He was waiting for Cassandra to be dropped off by Mycroft for a while so she could do all th

The next day was very busy as you all rushed around to prepare for what you all hoped would be the final confrontation. Tensions were especially high for you and Sherlock. He was going to have to confront his sister and you your brother. It was late, practically midnight. Everyone was asleep after a taxing day, everyone except you. You stood at the window, watching rain pour over the streets. You were scared and worried. It didn't matter how much you hated Jim, he was still your brother. You were tapping your fingers on the window pane when you felt arms slip around your waist and curly hair brush against your cheek. "Why are you still aw

„Umierający detektyw” Powinienem napisać „dzień dobry”, ale ten dzień jest okropny, więc ograniczę się do: Witam wszystkich czytelników bloga dr Watsona. Cieszcie się, że Wasze nieskomplikowane umysły nie muszą przeżywać tego co ja. Jakaś część z Was zdążyła się domyślić, a przynajmniej mam taką nadzieję, że tego postu nie pisze John. Jako, że jest teraz w pracy, a ja nie mogę dłużej na niego czekać, postanowiłem napisać to osobiście. Sprawa, k

Sherlock: Nawiedzony hotel Przeciągłe westchnięcie rozeszło się po pokoju. - Nuda… nuda, nuda, nuuuuda! – powiedział brunet, osunąwszy się na swoim fotelu. Stukot klawiatury laptopa ustał. John zerknął na wyciągniętego na swoim siedzisku, w pozycji pół leżącej współlokatora. - Sprawdzałeś wiadomości? Może jest coś nowego? – powiedział John. - Nic nie ma. Sprawdzałem minutę i 12 sekund temu – odparł, zerkając na wyświetlacz komórki. - A te maile, któ