#but is he sorry and does watson forgive him? yes

[okapiandpaste]

So Letters from Watson sent out “The Dying Detective” a few weeks ago, and since it’s a favorite of mine I thought I’d talk about why I think it’s one of the most crucial stories for understanding Holmes and Watson as a characters. (This is late because I hesitated on posting and then promptly forgot about it. Whoops.)

What most people take away from “Dying Detective”, I assume, is that Holmes is a master of deception. While this is partially true, I don’t think Holmes’ illness being faked should be used to dismiss the vulnerability of the situation: that Holmes had starved himself for 3 days and needed Watson’s complete faith in him if he was to succeed in catching a murderer.

Holmes’ deception of Watson in this story is regarded by many as coldblooded. There’s a moment in his false delirium where, in a last ditch effort to keep Watson from realizing his illness is fake, he calls Watson a “general practitioner with very limited experience and mediocre qualifications”. At this, Watson describes being “bitterly hurt”.

After the reveal of the sickness being faked, Holmes could’ve easily excused himself of this cruel remark due to it being a part of his act (even Watson himself believed this to be the case), but chooses not to. Rather, after he makes the comment, he immediately backpedals for the rest of the story, complimenting Watson profusely even while still pretending to be delirious (“Don’t forget, Watson. You won’t fail me. You never did fail me.”). At the end, he openly admits that the reason for keeping Watson at a distance was that, contrary to his harsh remark, he actually believed him too astute a doctor to fool if he drew any closer.

Like with Holmes’ false death and disguise in “The Empty House”, the events of “Dying Detective” naturally add speculative elements of distrust and tension to the public interpretation of Holmes and Watson’s dynamic. Why should Watson trust Holmes after he upsets him like that? Despite all this, the actual text frames these moments as faith-restoring.

Although most of Watson’s narration in “Dying Detective” is punctuated with his distress, there’s a deep undercurrent of faith in his behavior. He expresses fear and doubt over Holmes’ ability to make decisions in such a state, but he decides to believe Holmes knows what’s best for himself and follows his instructions perfectly. This isn’t just blind trust on Watson’s part, it’s mutual, because if Holmes did not believe Watson would follow his instructions to a tee, the entire plan would’ve failed.

And this is all without mentioning the scene where Holmes shouts in terror when Watson reaches for the box, clearly fearing for Watson’s safety when we finally learn the context. They clearly care a lot about each other in this story, and even though it’s just from Watson’s perspective, it’s obvious Holmes is trying to be considerate despite the strange situation. (So, anyways, it kinda sucks that this story is read shallowly and used as proof towards the idea that Sherlock is a complete asshole.)

[raina-at]

Tick, Tick, Tick, Boom

Tick, tick, tick.

“I’m sorry.”

Tick, tick, tick.

“What?”

“I can’t… I can’t do it, John. I can’t defuse it. I don’t know how.”

“That’s a load of bullshit if I ever heard one. You’re Sherlock Holmes, you can do anything!”

“You’ve always had too much faith in me, John. I told you, I’m not a hero. I’m not even a good man.”

John turns away, and Sherlock can see his shoulders shake with how tightly he tries to keep his emotions under control. He can also see that he’s beginning to seriously frighten John, and he feels sort of bad about it, but he’s come this far, and he’s committed now. He knows John needs a bit of a shake-up to forgive Sherlock, that he won’t do it as quickly as Sherlock wants to on his own terms. So a bit of adrenaline, a bit of a chase, and a bit of a scare should be enough to bring John’s emotional walls down far enough to admit what they both already know. John has already forgiven him, because that’s what John does.

“I’m sorry,” he says, upping the emotional pressure a bit. It’s the truth, too, which helps. He lets it flow into his voice, enhance his performance, how sorry he truly is, how much he fucked up, how much he misses John. 

John turns around, and the hurt in his eyes, the fury, is difficult to bear. “You don’t mean that,” John whispers. “You’re just trying to get me to say something nice.”

“I do mean it. I am sorry. Please forgive me,” he says, trying to show how much he truly means it. He’s manipulating the circumstances, yes, but he does mean every word he’s saying. 

“I don’t believe you. Why should I believe you? All you ever do is lie.”

“Please, John. Please. I do mean it. I am sorry. Please, forgive me. Please,” Sherlock says, pleading now, still on his knees next to the bomb. 

John doesn’t move. He looks straight at Sherlock, suddenly unafraid. “You want me to forgive you? You want me to believe you? Then I suggest you stop. Fucking. Lying.”

Tick, tick, tick. 

The only sound in the silence is the bomb, ticking down the seconds. John holds his eyes, so much raw emotion there, so much hurt and anger, so much distrust and wariness, all so very justified, and suddenly Sherlock realises what he’s doing. He’s frightening John half to death, he’s lying and cheating and manipulating, and he’s doing it all for one reason, and one reason only: Because he finds John’s continued anger inconvenient. Because actually earning John’s forgiveness is tedious.

What is he doing?

Without breaking eye contact, he reaches over and switches off the bomb. Because John is right. He can’t expect John to believe him if he keeps lying, keeps manipulating. He can’t trick John into forgiving him. He has to earn it.

The silence is absolute now. He holds John’s eyes, wills John to see. 

He swallows hard. “Please forgive me,” he says, finally, quietly, honestly.  “I never meant to hurt you. I know it sounds stupid, but it’s true. I had to jump, otherwise you would have died. I know it doesn’t make it any less awful, but I jumped to save your life. I swear that’s true.”

He can see John gauge his words. “Get up from the floor,” he finally says, hollow and raw and a ghost of his old self, but there’s some echo of John Watson in there, and it gives Sherlock hope. “You look like you’re about to propose. Or be sick. And I can’t deal with either right now.”

Sherlock huffs a laugh and gets off his feet, dusts his trousers and his coat off. 

“Why didn’t you take me with you?” John asks, still watching Sherlock warily. “Don’t you know that I would have gone anywhere with you?” he adds, voice almost breaking with suppressed emotion.

Sherlock swallows. “I can’t lose you.”

They hold each other’s eyes, raw and wary, but finally honest, finally real.

“Why?” John asks, so quiet it’s almost a whisper. “Why me? Why am I so special?”

Now or never, Holmes, he thinks. Be honest. Last chance.

“Because I love you,” he answers.

John looks at him, and Sherlock can see John process what he just said. It’s the longest three seconds of Sherlock’s life before John finally says, in a tone of exhausted exasperation, “You absolute fucking idiot,” and hauls him in for a kiss.

Sherlock’s impressive brain takes a few seconds to respond, then he winds his arms around John and kisses back like his life depends on it. He feels dizzy with relief and adrenaline and the feeling of John’s body against his, John’s lips, his tongue, his hands on Sherlock’s back, the smell of his skin.

The sound of sirens and boots in the distance announce that the Metropolitan police has finally deigned to show up. 

They break apart, but John keeps a hand fisted in the collar of Sherlock’s coat. “You did call the police, you fucking bastard,” he says, but he’s smiling a bit.

Sherlock shrugs. “Of course I did, I’m not a complete idiot.”

“I beg to differ, you’re the biggest moron on the planet,” John says, somewhat between teasing and serious. Sherlock guesses the adrenaline is making John feel as loopy as Sherlock feels. “For the record, if you ever die on me again, I’ll kill you with my bare hands, are we clear?”

Sherlock grins, because that’s the most John Watson sentence he’s ever heard in his life. “Kill me,” he scoffs, “that’s so two years ago.”

John bites down on an undignified, slightly hysterical giggle. “Shut up,” he says, “and kiss me again.”

Sherlock complies, and they kiss and kiss and kiss as the boots and the torchlight and the urgent voices move closer and closer.

“Now people will definitely talk,” Sherlock mutters against John’s lips.

“Let them,” John says, pulling Sherlock back in. “Let them.”

A bit if a TEH fix-it of a scene that always bothered me. Thank you @notjustamumj for the prompt, which was time.

Tagging the usual suspects @calaisreno @meetinginsamarra @keirgreeneyes @helloliriels @lisbeth-kk @jrow @peanitbear @catlock-holmes and anyone else who wants to play.

I've written and posted a ficlet for fourteen days straight, hopefully I can keep it up until the end of the month ;-)

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage- Mycroft Holmes x Reader (Part 11)

A/N- Okay so this is just a short 2k fill in chapter! It’s kinda cute and kinda sad but it was too long to add to the last chapter, and it doesn’t fit in with the theme of the next chapter (though it sets it up quite nicely!). The next chapter is likely going to be a bit angsty but I promise it’ll have a rewarding ending to it! I hope to have it written and up sooner rather than later but, until then, enjoy this little piece.

Word Count- 2028

The ten minute drive from Baker Street to the Natural History Museum went by in a flash- most of it being spent by Mycroft giving you a mental tour of the building's various rooms and the 'most appropriate route to take'. Though it did also take a minute or two for you to convince him to not get everybody kicked out for a private visit, no matter how many people were there.. Admittedly, you hadn't been to the museum for 6 years or so now- after living so long in London it feels less of a luxury being only round the corner from it- but walking through the doors made you feel like a child again. Entry to the museum was free, but that didn't mean you didn't see Mycroft swiftly pushing a few notes into the donation bin at the front before guiding you forwards. Glancing up, you eyed the blue whale skeleton that hung from the ceiling and frowned. Mycroft caught your look and spoke up.

"Ah yes, Hope has been a relatively recent addition to the museum. She was found dead on an Irish beach back in 1891. It's a rather beautiful marvel to gaze upon, though, large as she is, she doesn't quite fill the hole in my heart that was left after my beloved Dippy was removed." Your eyes scanned the skeleton of the large mammal once more before looking back at Mycroft. "I did try to convince the board to keep the diplodocus somewhere but all attempts were futile. There's only so much force you can put into such a topic without exposing yourself as-"

"As a man who loves dinosaur bones more than he loves people?" Mycroft shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed.

"The very thing." Lifting your arm, you rested your hand at the crook of Mycroft's elbow to encourage him to move on.

"When we get home and have dinner we can raise a toast in Dippy's honour.. but for now, my mind's been taken over by that huge statue of Darwin." And the pair of you headed off, your hand very much staying place at Mycroft's arm as you wandered through the rooms- Mycroft more than willing to reel off facts about every deceased animal of history and, more often than not, even impressing the workers with his spiel of facts. Though you were very much enjoying wandering aimlessly through the room of human evolution, you most definitely noticed the pull from the man beside you as he was eager to reach his beloved dino-pals. As you turned the corner into the slightly darkened dinosaur room, you tripped over your feet slightly as you felt Mycroft stop in his tracks, his eyes wide and taking everything in. He looked as happy as a boy at Christmas and, quite frankly, it was adorable. You nudged him slightly when he still didn't move. "You okay?"

"Sorry, it just seems as though, no matter how many times I come here, it always feels like the first." He had shaken his head as though to bring his thoughts back to focus before taking a few steps into the gallery and leading you over to the skeletal remains of a Baryonyx. "The name Baryonyx roughly translates to 'Heavy Claw' from the Ancient Greek's 'Barys' meaning heavy and 'onyx' being claw or talon." He spoke, his voice smooth and relaxed as his fingers brushed over the board that announced the name of the creature within the glass. "It was also an excellent swimmer which it would use to its advantage while hunting." You listened to his every word as he spoke, grinning as he excitedly told you how many teeth it had and it's preferred techniques for capturing food before he moved you onto the next one.

"Oh these beauties have always been my favourite." You almost whispered, taking in the sight of the huge triceratops skull. You barely noticed Mycroft's hand shift from his pocket until you felt the heat of his palm against the small of your back, fingers squeezing slightly by your hip as he spoke.

"Mine too. Sherlock used to say they were boring and that we might as well have gone to the zoo to look at rhinos. He ended up spending 5 months trying to prove that the rhinos were descendants from the triceratops and then avoided me for 3 weeks when he realised there was no connection at all."

"That sounds about right. Though I can't imagine Sherlock enjoying it here very much anyway.." Mycroft began to guide you to a small bench just off the side to sit down, still giving you the view of the beautiful dinosaur bones.

"He didn't. When we were much younger he would kick off until Mummy and Father would tell us it's time to go and I had to go with them.. Then as we got a little older and Sherlock properly found his legs, he would simply run from the doors round to the science museum. Of course mummy and father had to follow him as he was so young, but one time I decided to stay here. They didn't realise I hadn't followed them until it was time to go home 5 hours later." Mycroft spoke quietly.

"Found his legs? That's at, what, four? Five? How young were you?"

"I was 9 the first time, I think." Now, Mycroft, you don't just 'think'; you know. Your hand moved to rest above his own on his knee, brushing your thumb fondly over his knuckles. "But it isn't all bad. Some of my best days as a child were spent here, and a lot of the staff were very kind and would teach me extra facts that weren't displayed. There was one gentleman who even gave me his own copies of some books that they had here. I'd wander the whole museum in time but I always found myself back here on this bench just.. watching. This room felt more like home than my very house sometimes. It was the room where I could escape the real world and find peace. Eventually Mummy, Father and Sherlock stopped bothering with the visits because Sherlock found the science museum boring after he'd prove them wrong on something each time, but I'd still pop back in on occasion without them.. Coming to think about it, I've never actually brought anybody here with me at all." You squeezed at his fingers and settled back into the bench.

"Well I am incredibly glad that I found out about your little interest, and I feel even more honoured that you let me come here with you." You beamed. And it was the truth. Evidently, this little museum meant much more to Mycroft than you could have ever imagined and it warmed your heart to know that he trusted you to see him nerd out over some bones.

"Eventually I used this very building as the scaffolding to build my mind palace. My files on Sherlock, very appropriately, are nestled in the human biology room. But most people's information is either stored in the entrance, where Dippy remains over Hope, might I add, or in a few of the rooms I find less interesting.." You didn't have to ask to know he was referencing 'that room with all the bloody rocks'. "I love most of the galleries too much to taint them with information on people that aren't important. The likes of Gregory and Doctor Watson now reside in Hintze Hall as the years have passed." His eyes remained focused in front of him, unblinking, as though he was wandering the very halls at that moment.

"And where.. where are my files?" You had to ask, really. Since he was on the subject anyway. "If you've put them in the marine reptiles room when you know I'm terrified of the ocean I shall never forgive you." Mycroft's hand flipped beneath yours so the pads of your fingers brushed before he blinked and looked over to you, a small smile on his face.

"Here." Oh. Well that's.. something. You shifted to give him a quick kiss on his cheek, knowing he wasn't overly fond of PDA and tugged him to stand.

"And on that note, I think we should go and grab some lunch before you make me cry in front of the dinosaurs."

---

After lunch, you both spent a few more hours walking from room to room (and of course circling round to the dinosaur gallery again) before you decided to call it a day at 4pm. Before departing, you headed towards the toilets that happened to be beside the little gift shop and you had a browse while Mycroft was occupied. Grinning, you picked up a deep blue plush triceratops and stroked a finger across its back. It was just small enough that, after purchasing, you could hide the little guy in the loose fabric of the sweatshirt you wore, acting innocent as you waited back outside near the wall. After going to the bathroom yourself, the pair of you headed outside where a car was waiting for you. Sliding in the back seat, you couldn't contain your little gift anymore.

"Surprise!" You laughed, producing the small toy from under your clothes and into the hands of the man beside you. He studied it briefly before beginning to laugh himself as he reached into his inner pocket and handed you the matching dinosaur, though purple in colour. "God, we're such children aren't we?" You noted as you swapped plushie companions, each of you brushing a finger on its nose as though it were a small pet. "I daren't think what your colleagues would say if they knew you were now the proud owner of a baby triceratops teddy that's.." You glanced at the tag. "..Suitable for children aged 12 months plus!"

"Probably nothing as bad as if they realised said triceratops was going to take proud placement on my desk at home." He beamed. "Thank you, this really does mean a great deal to me." You knew he wasn't just talking about the toy that rolled around his long fingers and you shifted to rest your head lightly on his shoulder.

"We can come back any time. I, for one, know I'll never get bored of looking through the galleries.. Or I'll never get bored of watching you light up as we walk through said galleries. Either or works, really." He hummed in response, his emotions slightly overwhelmed from the day and its revelations into his past. "Plus there were about 10 other little dinos in the shop and I've always been one to want a full collection.. so, if we pace ourselves, that's at least 10 more trips."

"13.. Although that could be tripled if we take the colour variations into account."

"Oh, of course! Can't half-arse a collection or it's just pointless."

"I concur."

"That's settled then. Almost 40 more trips to finish off our collection.. And thennnn we can move onto the figurines." Mycroft let out a laugh beside you and tilted to rest his head atop yours for the remainder of the journey home.

---

The evening between you was shared over a meal (where, as promised, a small toast was made to the memory of Sir Dippy) before Mycroft sat to finish the papers for Greg. Eventually you collapsed into bed at a relatively reasonable time, groaning at the throbbing in your legs from the day's adventure before finally slipping into rest.

---

The next day passed relatively quickly. The morning was spent visiting Greg in his office to drop off the papers before the pair of you took a small stroll through the streets of London. Eventually, Mycroft and yourself even got a text message from Sherlock giving a (albeit half-arsed) apology for his behaviour the day before and the rest of the day was spent in bliss. That was until exactly 17 minutes after you got back home when Mycroft's mobile began to ring. He swallowed deeply, showing you the caller ID of the person he had been dreading to speak to post-Eurus and answering.

"Ah, yes.. Hello, Mummy."

[fanfic-she-wrote]

Imagine being Sir Henry's younger sister and having a crush on Sherlock Holmes

It had only been a week since you had met the great Sherlock Holmes having arrived at Baskerville Hall the same time. You were surprised at his arrival. No one had informed you of the goings on at the manor and the supposed attempt at your brother, Henry's, life. Henry didn't want to alarm you, especially if it was over nothing. Typical older brother. Nevertheless, you appreciated Sherlock's presence all the same.

In fact, you had found yourself growing quite fond of the world's greatest detective. You found him utterly fascinating. Soon, you found that you had developed feelings for him. You tried to keep it a secret, but you could never keep anything from your brother. It had happened so suddenly that even you hadn't realized how deep your feelings were till you saw Sherlock limp into the manor after having just escaped the mines, his leg broken and bleeding profusely.

"It'll be fine." Sherlock assured you, noticing your concerned expression. "Just a scratch." He added waving it off, trying to make it appear as if it were nothing. You were already worried about your brother and now you had to worry about Sherlock as well.

After helping Watson mend Sherlock's leg and helping him to his room, you went to your own room hoping to relax for the remainder of the night when there was a knock on your door. "Come in."

Your brother entered the room, looking very chipper. "Hello!" He said.

"Hi! What's up?" You ask looking up at him from your chair by the window.

"The Stapletons have invited us for dinner." He told you. "I was hoping you would join us."

"I'm not really up to it tonight." You admitted. You didn't really like them. What Henry saw in that girl you didn't know. She was pretty, but very strange. And Mr. Stapleton had the personality of a rock. Not the kind of people you were interested in dining with.

"Mr. Holmes is invited as well." Henry said, hoping that would change your mind.

"Oh really?" You aske excitedly. He nodded, yes, in reply.

"Well, if Sherlock-Mr. Holmes is going, I guess I could." You said.

"Y/N, do you have feelings for Mr. Holmes?" Henry asked abruptly. You bit your lip, trying to surpress a blush that was slowly forming on your face.

"What? I...I don't know what you're talking about?" You deny, looking away.

Henry smirked. "I think you do."

You let out a sigh. "Is it that obvious?" You ask.

"Yes, unfortunately. If I was able to figure it out then surely Mr. Holmes has too." He pointed out. Oh no. The thought hadn't occured to you. Of course Sherlock would notice. He noticed everything. He must think you a complete fool.

"Do you plan on acting on those feelings?" Henry asked.

"I don't know...I would like to." You answered, fiddling with your necklace.

"But?"

"But he's Sherlock Holmes. He doesn't have relationships. At least not the one I would like." You told him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked." Henry apologized, turning to leave the room.

"Henry! Do you think I'm crazy for liking him?" You ask, feeling unsure. He turned and faced you.

"No, I don't. I think you should at least try. It's better to be rejected than not knowing what could have been." You nodded. Perhaps he was right. Maybe, just maybe Sherlock felt the same about you.

After changing your clothes and preparing yourself for dinner with the Stapletons you walked to Sherlock's room, practicing your speech over in your head as you went.

You went to knock at his door when suddenly it burst open before you and your brother came storming out slamming it shut behind him. "What happened?" You asked.

"Nothing!" He snapped. "Don't bother coming for dinner. I'll go alone!" You watched him stunned, your mouth agape as he marched down the hall and disappeared. Shrugging it off you knocked on Sherlock's door, entering when you heard his voice telling you to come in. "What happened?" You ask again, feeling very confused. 

"I just told him I'm not going to dine with him and the Stapletons." He answered, lighting up his pipe.

"Why?"

"I'm onto something. Today in the mine I found this." He began, picking up a bone and showing it to you. Now you were even more confused.

"That's when the mine collapsed. I believe it was a deliberate attempt on my life and I know who is behind it and the Baskerville legend." He informed you.

"Who?"

"The Stapletons." He answered. You gasped, pressing your hand to your mouth.

"I have to warn Henry!" You exclaimed turning to leave.

"No! Wait! Tonight I think Miss Stapleton is going to act and that's when we stop her."

"So you're using my brother as bait?!"

Watson placed his hand on your shoulder. "Don't worry. We'll be following them." He said, trying to calm you down.

"Yes, let's get going." Sherlock said getting up.

"Should you be moving with that leg?" You point out.

"We have no choice." He told you as he threw on his coat. You suddenly felt overwhelmed with worry. You could feel your chest start to hurt and you found it difficult to breath.

"Are you alright?" Watson asked, watching you.

"I'll be fine..." You lied. You couldn't bear it if something happened to your brother...or Sherlock.

Watson sat you down on the bed. "Stay here. Don't worry. Everything will be alright." He told you calmly.

"Be careful, please." You urged them as they started towards the door.

"We will."

You placed back and forth nervously waiting for them to return...if they returned. What if the Stapletons were successful? What if they came after you next? You started to feel that pain in your chest again. You tried taking some deep breaths, but it was no use. "I should have gone with them." You muttered to yourself as you looked out the window, hoping to see any sign of them. No. You would have been more of a hinderance than anything. You told yourself. You glanced at the clock. They had only been gone an hour, but to you it felt like an eternity. Was your brother still alive?

Finally, just when you couldn't take it anymore they returned. You gasped, when your eyes fell upon Henry as he entered the room. His clothes were torn apart and he had scratches and bite marks all over his body. So, the Baskerville Hound was real! It wasn't a legend. You rushed over to them.

"Henry!" You gasped. Sherlock walked over to you and pulled you aside.

"He'll be alright. Watson will take care of him." He assured you, sitting you down on the sofa. You watched as Watson helped your brother up the stairs.

"It's all over now. You don't have to worry anymore." He told you, holding your hand. You felt the ache in your chest ease slightly.

"I was so frightened." You admitted, holding back tears.

"I know. Everything is going to be ok now." He said in a soothing voice, noticing how tense you were. You took a deep breath, feeling yourself calming down a little. Sherlock hesitated for a moment, but reached out and pulled you close holding you in his arms. If you weren't having a panic attack, you would be enjoying this. You thought. He held you as long as you needed without complaint. The warmth of his embrace calmed you down and once you felt better you pulled away.

"Thank you Mr. Holmes." You said.

"Anytime." He said with a smile. How you loved it when he smiled. It made him practically irresistible. In fact... You leaned close to him and quickly placed a kiss on his cheek leaving him stunned.

"Oh um..." Watson coughed, feeling awkward as he entered the room. "You can go see your brother now."

"Oh. Thank you, Doctor Watson." You said, getting up and leaving without another word.

"What was that?" Watson asked Sherlock.

"She kissed me. Why did she do that?" He answered, staring at the door you just left through.

"Sherlock, the girl likes you." He pointed out, stuffing his hand in his pockets. How oblivious his friend could be.

"She does?"

"Yes, I think she's made that fairly obvious." He said.

"I never noticed." How did he miss it?

"Anyone who would sit and listen to you talk about different kinds of tobacco must fancy you." Watson remarked. "Now what are you going to do about it?" He asked.

"I don't know. What do you think I should do?" Sherlock asked, rubbing the back of his neck. He had never really been in this situation before.

"I think you should give her a chance. It'd be a refreshing change of pace after all this." Watson told him. Sherlock sat there for a moment, trying to decide what to do. He did rather enjoy your company, different than the way he enjoyed Watson's and you were very attractive.

"Well what are you waiting for?!" Watson exclaimed, pushing his friend out the door.

Sherlock walked down the hall going over everything in his head. Perhaps Watson just misinterpreted it. You just kissed him as a thank you for saving your brother that's all. He soon found himself outside Henry's room. He hesitated for a moment before raising his hand and just as he was about to knock, you came out.

"Oh, hi!" Sherlock said surprised. He looked over your shoulder and saw that Henry had fallen asleep.

"How's he doing?" He asked as you quietly shut the door.

"Shaken and tired, but I think he'll be fine." You answered. "What about you? You should be resting with that leg."

"Oh, I will. I just wanted to talk to you about something." He replied.

"It's about the kiss isn't it? I'm sorry. I shouldn't have." You apologized, looking down at your feet.

"No,no. I just wanted to let you know we'll be leaving for London tomorrow." He said.

"Oh, I see." You said in a low voice. He clearly wasn't interested in you. He was going to return to Baker Street and forget you. "I was hoping we might see each other again?" He said, holding your hand.

"Really?" You asked, looking up at him.

"Yes, I'd like to see you again."

You smiled at him, perking up. "I'd like that." You answered.

"Oh kiss her damn it!" You heard Watson call out from down the hall. You laughed.

"You must forgive Watson. He's not the most patient man." Sherlock said with a smirk.

"I must confess something to you, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please." He insisted.

"I'm not patient either." You playfully told him. He smiled, leaning down, and placed a kiss upon your tender lips.

"Better?" He asked.

"Much."

"Finally." You heard your brother sigh from inside his room.

You didn't know where this new relationship with Sherlock Holmes was going or if it was going to last, but you couldn't wait and you were going to enjoy every second of it.

[jawn-n-shlock-holmes]

Why I ship JOHNLOCK

(sorry omfg I have gone crazy)

When I look at a ship that I find interesting. I will start analyzing it, in so many ways that I know I can if I can actually engage myself in it. For example: Johnlock

"Can I see them engaging in coitus?" or "Are they worth it to ship?" I will find myself asking if this ship I am willing to engage in would make sense. Like, why bother ship it if it's pointless? So I thought of those questions for a while and I answer on both, YES (It is the fanfiction's fault about the coitus thing)

Why though, you ask?

1) Their platonic friendship is solid

How many times have John had given himself to Sherlock? John killed a man for him upon first meeting and Sherlock killed for him too.

LIKE HOW MANY BEST FRIENDS CAN LITERALLY KILL FOR EACH OTHER.

Bonus: Look at how he stares at Sherlock with complete admiration. Even not romantically or sexually in the canon, John is attracted to Sherlock since their first day together running around solving the Pink case.

(Someone please stare at me like John stares at Sherlock)

(And please, you CANNOT simply look at a person's lips that easily if you are not attracted to them. It would be uncomfortable enough to stare at someone's face more than five seconds but THIS, THIS, THIS?! This is admiration in John Watson style)

And this scene? Have we forgotten Irene and John's brief exchange of words?

John: If anyone out there still cares, I'm not actually gay."

Irene: Well, I am. Look at us both.

*Then John proceeds to ponder for a bit then considers*

Okay, he does love Sherlock. It's like Irene had told him: "We are both in love and obsessed with him." And it doesn't have to be sexually or romantically. They. Just. Are.

2) They love each other most in all the world

John saying he loves Sherlock: I want to be up there with the two people that I love and care about most in the world.

Sherlock saying he loves John: John, you have endured war and injury and tragic loss - so sorry again about that last one - so know this; today you sit between the woman you have made your wife and the man you have saved. In short, the two people who love you most in all this world.

They have said they love each other, most in all this world. :") WHAT DO THEY WANT US TO THINK THIS IS? The conclusion is always ending up to love.

3) Mary, John's wife who knows she has a baby with John, saved Sherlock for John

Do I need to... like... explain why? It is because:

3) Sherlock is for John and John is for Sherlock. They are 'meant to be.'

Even platonically, they are made for each other. They love danger and they love each other. Mary knows how much Sherlock is important to John. To think she, who literally has an infant and married to John, saved Sherlock. That means a lot, man. I mean, Sherlock is simply the best man/best friend in John's life. Why, right?

4) Slow burn friendship/angst/love all in one series

John is mad at Sherlock when he does not take care of himself, like really mad... You don't encounter angst that much between best friends. The more you love a person, the more you are capable of being mad at them.

And there was a quote that says: If you are betrayed deeply, and you can forgive that person, then you love them deeply.

Imagine having a best friend you thought dead for two years. It would take a lot of effort for me to even say I forgive them, because my LOVE would be involved in it because it is considered betrayal and unforgivable.

And that is JOHNLOCK everyone.

*Twirls my umbrella away*

P.S.- I love Mystrade too :"D

[iraacundus]

Star of the Show

SEQUAL TO CIRCUS

PART TWO OUT OF THREE

reader x jaehyun; reader x doyoung

genre: angst, smut, fluff words: 8k warnings: sex, swearing, alcahol, mentions of emtional abuse 

stars shine brightly into the sky until some become blackholes that destroy everthing around them, the same went for circus stars

You grabbed Jaehyun and peeked between the curtains, there were hundreds of people sat in the crowd. You were in a busy area so this was to be expected. Tonight was Jaehyun's first show, tomorrow, the company was coming to begin filming their promo with you both at the centre of it. 

The trapeze was scheduled as the last act, so you watched Jaehyun sit on a chair nervously the whole time. He hadn't been given a second act yet so nox periculosa would be his first performance ever.

You came back in from doing the aerial hoops to see Jaehyun pacing up and down. You walked over to him and stopped him, placing your hands on his shoulders reassuringly.

"You will be great," you told him with a smile."We are a great team and Doyoung,.. well he is good at what he does." You said referencing your ex-boyfriend who was sitting across the room talking to Mademoiselle Isobel. So much for it being a meaningless kiss, you thought.

You pushed it to the back of your mind and focused back on Jaehyun, who was chewing on his lip more frequently ever since he had seen the crowd. 

"I have done much scarier things than this, I once volunteered to be shot in the foot and yet this, this performance scares me, not because I can't do it, but because I know we have to do it right," he explained. 

You knew almost nothing of Jaehyun’s life before the circus so you were kind of surprised to hear what he used to get up to in his free time. 

"Maybe choose safer hobbies," you noted, causing him to flash a nervous grin, "and as long as you try your best I will be proud of you Jaehyun, as cliché as it is." 

Taeyong walked over to you both.

"One minute," he said before rushing off to sort something else out. You pulled Jaehyun's hand into yours. It was actually part of the routine, but you felt like you would have done it anyway. You heard Taeyong's voice echo through the circus.

"And now for the finale, we have the star-crossed lovers, on their most dangerous night. I present to you Archibald, Adeline and the Angel of Death in nox periculosa.

The crowd clapped and cheered as you walked out, squeezing Jaehyun's hand before you let go running to the opposite platform. As you climbed the rungs of the platform you kept your gaze on Jaehyun. He was fine, he looked focused, he had gone into a form autopilot created by countless hours of practice. You took your first leap and swung, feeling at peace Jaehyun caught you and as Doyoung weaved in between you. 

It had gone so well throughout that when you reached the final scene and Doyoung placed the blindfold over your eyes, you almost didn't want to breathe. You exhaled and made the run, jumping into the air blind with only the trust that Doyoung would catch you this time. And he did, he caught you, spun you, threw you into the air and caught you again. All as planned. 

The trapeze lowered down and Doyoung let go, seconds later you were in Jaehyun's arms. It had gone right, it was all good. You pulled the blindfold off your eyes and gleamed at Jaehyun, who was smiling just as brightly as you. You could hear the roar of the crowd cheering but it was like you were underwater, all you could see was Jaehyun. 

"We did it," you whispered to him before you ran to the front to bow. And after a few minutes of everyone bowing and lots of applause the show was over. The chatter of people leaving, buying last snacks and souvenirs played in the background as Taeyoung walked over to meet you all backstage. 

"Your officially a circus man now," he said to Jaehyun. "You guys were as good as I hoped, thank you so much all of you and especially you Addie." He knew what he had asked of you, he knew what a feat it was that you had all pulled it off. 

You thanked him before walking out with Jaehyun into the night sky. There were less visible stars in the sky in this new location, the distant city lights prevented them from being seen. 

"How do you feel?" You asked him. 

"Exhilarated," he replied, "it's the second-best feeling I have ever felt."

You looked at him with curiosity. 

"What's the first?" 

"When I watch the stars with you at night," he said pointing up. It was your turn to have slightly pink cheeks. Jaehyun stopped walking and looked over at you. "I know you love Doyoung, but I just want to be honest, though I think you probably already caught on Dr Watson, I really like you. Like more than just as a friend or a trapeze partner. I don't expect anything from you, I just had to be honest." 

He looked down at his shoes before looking back up at the sky again.

"Before I came here, I lived quite recklessly I suppose, the people I was around, we hung out constantly but they weren't real friends, deep down I always felt alone, I don't feel alone with you though, I feel happy." You stared at his face as he made his confession even if he couldn't look at you. 

"So I know that you might not get over Doyoung or that if you do you may not like me but... I just had to tell you, I'm sorry," 

"Stop being sorry all the time." You smiled at him. You turned his face with your hand softly so his wandering gaze was forced to look at you. 

"I do love Doyoung, but it has been two years, it's different now, I don't know how to explain it. I do know how to explain about you, however. When I kissed you, I haven't felt like that in forever, when I talk to you I feel calm, I never felt that with Doyoung, I loved him but our relationship was... unstable, we were unstable," You explained. 

“I don’t think the kissing could have been your favourite part,” he joked. 

As you talked Jaehyun's fingers lightly brushed your own until he linked them together lightly, playing with your fingers like a nervous habit.

"When you came here you didn't talk, I thought you were strange and rude. In reality, you are kinder to me than Doyoung ever was. I can't promise that I can like you back or love you because I honestly don't know, but I do know that I can imagine us together, and it's a really lovely dream." 

Jaehyun stepped forward and pulled you into his chest grinning.

“Maybe we are like the stars, we can see each other, but it takes a while for the light we give each other to reach us... we just need to wait for our light.”

You didn’t know what to think, for a while you thought you only saw Jaehyun, at the end of the performance he was certainly all you had seen. But when Jaehyun said goodbye and walked back to his trailer, your mind wondered back to Doyoung. You didn’t want it too, you never had, but it did. 

Jaehyun lit up your darkest nights, your star, beautiful and reassuring. Doyoung was destructive to everyone around him, a black hole, consuming the life of everything around him. Once one sucked into a black hole, one can never escape.

***********************************

Doyoung was early for afternoon practise, something you noticed when you saw him leaning against the outside of the tent, eating ice cream. It reminded you of how he had once been, carefree yet always on time.

You forced yourself to smile lightly at him.

“How are you,” you inquired in earnest. Doyoung shrugged,

“Better I suppose… you were really good yesterday, the audience loved it.” He commented, pushing himself up from the ground, “the cheers could be heard for miles.”

“We could only do it because you were there, thank you, for trying,” you replied. Doyoung took a few steps towards you, eyes fixed on yours.

“Maybe, but the cheers were for you nonetheless, you were always the star of the show.” He said, it sounded like it was meant to be a compliment but somehow you felt he intended it as an insult like he was sneering at you.

He moved towards you further, until his face was inches from yours. The rational, part of your brain told you to just walk away, but you were frozen, still trapped under his spell, still falling into his black hole.

To someone watching something enter a black hole, it happens instantaneously, to the person falling in, they continue to fall for eternity, the cursed nature of physics.

Doyoung chuckled sort of sadly, interrupting your thoughts.

“You’re afraid of me y/n,” he observed, “I guess that’s my own fault.” You managed to regain control of your thoughts.

“Yes Doyoung, it is.” You confirmed, before walking past him into the tent. You wanted to look back, to see what expression he had on his face, to see if he cared how much pain he had caused, was still causing. But you couldn’t, because chances are he would still have a blank expression. And you couldn’t have dealt with that. Jaehyun was waiting inside the tent, either he was even earlier than Doyoung, or he had come in another entrance.

“I saw you two talking, I thought best not interrupt,” Jaehyun said, answering your question before you had even said it aloud.

“Let’s just start,” you said, climbing up the rigging towards the top of the tent, “We need to practise the third sequence, it wasn’t quite perfect.” You asserted. It was also the only sequence that you didn’t have to perform with Doyoung in.

“You know that’s bs, we need to do the penultimate sequence,” said Doyoung, who had just walked up behind Jaehyun.

“He’s kinda right Addie,” Jaehyun added. You cursed Jaehyun’s honesty at that moment. The day wasn’t turning out how you planned, but you relented.

“Fine, we’ll do that one, democracy and all.” If Doyoung wanted to earn your forgiveness he was doing an awful job.

The first part of the sequences went fine. You and Jaehyun swung past each other, never quite reaching each other, just as planned. When it came to Doyoung though, something changed, you seemed to have a mental block, you almost never messed up but when you let go of one bar, aiming to grab onto Doyoung’s hand, you missed and fell.

The net caught you, no harm done physically, but you were shocked. You didn’t understand why you had messed up, you hadn’t messed up that particular move in years.

Both Doyoung and Jaehyun rushed down, concern evident on their faces.

“Are you okay?” Jaehyun asked, helping you down from the net. You nodded.

“Yeah I’m fine, there’s a net for a reason.”

Doyoung shook his head,

“We need to check, Addie, can you try and follow my finger please,” he said moving his finger in a cross-motion, “Do you have a headache, do you feel sick,”

You chuckled slightly,

“I’m fine Doyoung really, I don’t have a concussion, there is no way I could have even hit my head anywhere.”

Doyoung ignored you and continued to check for any sign of injury, he moved your arm, asking if it hurt.

It started to dawn on you that Doyoung was checking more for his own peace of mind than yours. You getting injured was clearly still something that worried him a lot.

You put your hands on both sides of his face, forcing him to look at you.

“Calm down, it’s okay, I’m okay, you’re okay, it’s all fine,”

“I’m just gonna give you guys another minute, I need to talk to Haechan anyway,” Jaehyun said, backing away. You looked over Doyoung’s head and mouthed ‘thank you’ to Jaehyun before looking back down at Doyoung.

“Is this why?” you asked him, “Is this why you changed? Fear of people being hurt… I don’t get it, we always knew the dangers of our job, it never bothered you before,”

Doyoung didn’t answer for a while, you sat in silence, your hands still on his cheeks.

“Not really, I don’t think that’s exactly why, no.” He finally replied. You sighed, moving your hands away, running them through your hair.

“Why then, why can’t you even explain why just why?” Your brain wasn’t even fully coherent anymore, you couldn’t seem to get across to Doyoung how desperate you were for answers.

“Explaining won’t make it better, I know I’ve hurt you y/n, and I really am sorry.”

“Fuck you Doyoung. Sorry doesn’t change anything, all I want is for you to tell me why, sorry doesn’t count if you won’t even explain why you are sorry and why you treated me and every one like we didn’t exist for a whole year. You don’t just get to be sorry. You don’t get to kiss that new girl, give me no explanation and then try and tell me you’re sorry, because if you were sorry, you wouldn’t act like this.”

“I still love you y/n,” he said, but he couldn’t look you in the eye.

“At least say it like you mean it,” You chuckled sadly before walking away once again.

Everything had been pretty quiet at the circus throughout the weeks following. Your performance for the recorded show was perfect, even though you had barely talked to Doyoung since.

You felt lonely, you had spent less time with Jaehyun since that day too. Doyoung had started to mend his relationship with the boys much more effectively, he started sitting with everyone at dinner, laughing and chatting as if nothing had changed.

You were glad he was getting better, even if you weren’t fully sure why he had decided to make that choice. But you couldn’t help but resent him for how he treated his return so lightly, how expected you just to get over it, no questions asked.

But you didn’t ever call him out on it, you loved him too much to do anything that would put his recovery from the darkness at risk.

Jaehyun didn’t talk to Doyoung but he always hung out with Haechan, who was always with Doyoung, and as you were avoiding Doyoung, you didn’t spend much time with Jaehyun either. You figured he was giving you space to sort out… everything, which you appreciated but you couldn’t help but feel this loneliness.

*******************************************

It was after dinner one day you decided to just make peace with Doyoung, you decided it was better to have a happy friend than to force him to tell you something he didn’t want to, you figured he would tell you in time.

You actually hadn’t seen him, or Haechan at dinner that day so you ate quickly, wanting to tell him a soon as possible so you could get on with life, so things could return to normal.

When you got outside you saw Haechan talking to him by the costume trailer, they looked like they had been arguing, Doyoung looked angrier than you had seen him in a while. Haechan looked panicked.

You hurried over towards them.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“You would act all innocent wouldn’t you,” Doyoung sneered. You felt like someone had just punched you. You couldn’t bear the thought that Doyoung was mad with you again. You looked at Haechan expectantly.

“I’m sorry Addie, I didn’t mean to tell him, Jaehyun didn’t even mean to tell me, it's just.” He stopped explaining. Realisation swept over you. Somehow Haechan had told Doyoung what had happened between you and Jaehyun. It was the only explanation, it was the only secret Jaehyun had.

“How can you be mad at me for that?” You protested, “You hadn’t spoken to me in a year, I broke up with you before I had sex with him, I can do what I want Doyoung, I’m an adult woman.”

“Can we talk inside?” Doyoung asked. You wanted to walk away, but you knew you needed to sort it out with him once and for all.

You grabbed his arm and dragged him inside his caravan, shutting the door firmly behind you.

“I thought you still loved me,” he said quietly. His voice sounded say but somehow you didn’t quite believe it.

“I did Doyoung, I loved you so much even after what you did but you ignored me, I cried for months about you, worrying about you. Jaehyun was nothing but kind to me, he’s a great person” you sighed, “I needed someone Doyoung, I needed someone to be there for me, and you weren’t.”

“I love you,” he said, “I need to know if you still love me too,”.

“You know I do, you know I never stopped loving you.” The words felt like a betrayal to Jaehyun, but they were not a lie. 

Doyoung said nothing and then suddenly he was kissing you, you could feel how desperate his lips were, you could have pushed him away but you didn’t want to.

You moaned lightly as he began to kiss down your neck, his hands entangled in your hair. He wasn’t as careful as Doyoung, his actions were rougher, more impulsive, but as you both pulled your shirts over your heads and Doyoung kissed you again, pushing you back against his fridge, you didn’t mind.

Your hands travelled down his chest, continuing down until you could feel him through his tracksuit joggers, you carefully slid your hand into his underwear, soliciting a loud moan from Doyoung as you started to pump his length.

“Fuck y/n,” he said, “You don’t know how I have dreamed of feeling this again,” he said. You stopped your motion suddenly, removing your hand. You kissed his lips once, teasing, payback. “You could have always talked to me,” you reminded him.

“I was stupid,” he said, pushing your underwear and shorts down your legs, before tossing them across the room.

“Fuck your panties are wet,” he remarked, even you were surprised by how much your body seemed to want him, it seemed to agree with your fucked up heart. Before you had any more time to think, you felt Doyoung insert two fingers, he didn’t want to make you wait any longer. You tried to hold back your moan, but when Doyoung used his other hand to rub your clit, you couldn’t help it.

Doyoung grinned,

“I love it when you moan for me love,” he said, fucking you with his fingers the same strong pace. You felt dangerously close so when Doyoung brought his lips back to your neck, combined with all his actions, you felt your body move, walls clenching around his fingers as you called out his name,

“Ah, Doyoung.”

“You’re so pretty when you cum for me y/n”.

When you had regained composure slightly you reached your hand back down to Doyoung, pulling the waistband of his underwear down, his cock springing out, hard and pink.

When you ran your tongue lightly alongside his dick, Doyoung moaned quietly, you could already taste the salty pre-cum as you took him into your mouth. You lowered your head down until you could almost feel him hitting the back of your throat.

His grip on you tightened as you began to bob your head up and down, his eyes fixed on the sight of you. You held his hips in place with your hands to stop him rising up to meet you as you began to suck faster, hollowing your cheeks.

You were sure he was close when you stopped your actions entirely.

“You’ve been a bad boy,” you said to him with a smile, “you only get to cum if you fuck me properly,”

“My pleasure love,” Doyoung replied, ushering you to his bed before motioning for you to move onto all fours. He moved behind you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your wetness.

He pushed inside, groaning loudly, before quickly moving back out again, fucking you roughly from the start. His hands pressed into your hips as he thrust in and out relentlessly. It was a hot and quick affair that had you both undone in mere minutes as you clenched around his cock, reaching your high. Doyoung pulled out, you lent back down, sucking him again until he came in your mouth, his warm load, spurting down your throat as you swallowed.

“You’re amazing,” Doyoung said, as you lay down next to him. But you didn’t feel right. While you had enjoyed your experience with Doyoung you realised it wasn’t the same anymore. All you could think about, the second you had stopped was Jaehyun. How you wished you had spent the night with him instead. And thoughts like that weren’t fair to anyone.

Your love with Doyoung had been passionate, explosive, but unstable. As much as you were still attracted to Doyoung, as much as you still cared for him, he wasn’t what you needed any more.

You sat up straight. A split second descion. 

“I can’t do this Doyoung,” you said. You had expected him to look angry like before, but he didn’t, “As much as I love you, you don’t make me happy anymore.”

“Jaehyun does,” Doyoung finished for you, even though they were words you were not going to say. 

“At least we went out with a bang, pun unintended.” Doyoung joked. But he was right, Doyoung was no longer a black hole pulling you in, he was a supernova, your love had exploded as it died.

You didn’t say anything else to each other as you picked up your clothes and put them back on. You checked your phone, it was 12:30 am.

“Bye Doyoung,” you said, before closing the door to his caravan quietly, trying not to wake anyone up as you walked the short distance back to your caravan.

When you got back to your caravan you swore quietly when you saw Jaehyun sitting on the step outside.

When he saw you got up immediately,

“Haechan told me what happened I wanted to make sure you were…” his voice cut off when he saw you closer through the darkness.

Your heart almost broke when you saw his forlorn expression. The state of your makeup and that fact that you only had one sock on, were clearly good indicators of what you had been doing.

“I’m sorry,” you said. Jaehyun shook his head.

“Don’t be sorry, I knew you still loved him.” He said, “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

“What if I want to?” you asked.

“I came to see if you were alright Addie, and you are, and I’m happy that things worked out for you, I really am. However, I don’t really want to hear the tale of how or why you fucked Doyoung,” He said.

“I love you too,” You said to him, a tear falling down your face. You could see how conflicted Jaehyun was, Even though he was hurt, he still didn’t want to see you upset. He was too good for you really.

“I said before I would work until you loved me, that is still true Addie, but I also need to wait, I need to wait until you love me more than him, or I will just be setting up my heart to get hurt.” You could almost hear a slight waver in his voice.

He stepped closer to you and kissed your head carefully.

“I can’t put my whole heart towards someone when I don’t even know their name,” he said sadly, “Goodnight Addie.”

He walked off back to his caravan, his figure blending into the darkness. There were no stars lighting up the sky that night and neither the smell of sex or tears comforted you, Jaehyun or Doyoung as you fell asleep.

***************************************

You didn’t have time to wallow the next day, which was probably a good thing. That was something great about the circus, it didn’t give you the time to be sad or down, you just had to keep going for the sake of the team. There was something about hanging from a metal pole twenty feet in the air that just took all the bad thoughts away.

Haechan had proposed a new comedy act the other day. The only comment from the sponsor company had been that the clown act seemed outdated. Haechan had spent all night working out how to make it more interesting. Somehow his more interesting version just seemed to be a version that included more work for everyone else.

He wanted some of the acrobatic people such as you to take part in order to create some slapstick falls.

He had set you up in an exercise where Haechan the clown was trying to get you to go on a date, but you kept falling running away from him. You were meant to be chasing after the good looking Jaehyun instead, which was rather awkward given the situation.

Jaehyun kept trying to avoid any form of eye contact with you, which you understood, it just made working together kind of hard.

You pulled Haechan to the side.

“Is there no way I can work with someone else for this?” you asked him. Haechan looked down at his list, confused as to why you didn’t want to work with Jaehyun.

“Well there’s Doyoung, but I figured you would rather work with Jae,” he said. Between a rock and a hard place you thought, but not really, because working with Doyoung would have definitely been worse.

“Forget it,” you said, walking back to Jaehyun. You had to focus, you only had a day to learn your final part of this before the cameras came to refilm. You decided to practise the part where you fell three times because that didn’t involve Jaehyun.

You continuously flipped yourself into the mat, stood up, fell onto your knees and flipped into the mat again. By the end of the two hours, your knees were bright red and you could tell your arm was going to bruise horribly.

You saw Jaehyun watching you, clearly aware of what you were doing, but you didn’t go over to him. You had no idea what to say to him. He had been right, you needed to work things out in your head properly, unfortunately, your continued action of throwing yourself into the circus floor had not solved your issues.

Jaehyun’s mind had also clearly remained unchanged as he made no effort to speak to you either. He tried unsuccessfully to mask the fact he was staring at you by talking to Johnny, but the fact he was still actively staring at you, not looking at Johnny, sort of gave it away.  

When you talked to Johnny at dinner he confirmed as much,

“You need to talk to Jaehyun,” he said, “I have no idea what’s going on between you two but he has been weird all of today.”

“Oh really?” you replied, hoping your acting was slightly better than Jaehyun’s.

“You were staring at him too, even if you were throwing yourself into the ground at the same time,” Johnny replied.

“I’ve been exposed,” you laughed.

Comedy acts didn’t take much time to put together, they mostly rested on Haechan and he had always been a comedy genius so after only four days of practising the piece was ready for the show.

The sponsor company had come to refilm the show, complete with the new act. You had just moved to a busier part of the city you were in, the company thought a bigger crowd would also make for a better video.

What wouldn’t make for a better video was your own trapeze act. You had not spoken to Jaehyun or Doyoung in those four days, nor had any of you practised together. Haechan had made it abundantly clear that he thought ‘one of you is going to die.’

While that was certainly a slight bit dramatic, he was right in the sense that the act could easily go wrong.

The comedy act was okay, you and Jaehyun managed to act well together despite the circumstances, even if you couldn’t look him in the eye. Unfortunately, all of the self-throwing must have damaged your ankle, as when you made your last final fall you felt it twist, hard.

You winced, visible to Jaehyun right next to you, but luckily not the crowd a few metres back. Jaehyun grabbed your arms and carefully dragged you away, pretending to chuckle as if he had finally won as if it was a part of the act.

The second you were out of view he leant down, picking you up, before moving you away to where you could both speak away from the stage.

“What happened?” he asked, the concern evident on his face, the anger he had towards you momentarily forgotten.

“I was never one for comedy,” you joked, knowing the irony of it. Jaehyun got up for a second and came back moments later with a small green medical kit that had been hanging on the wall a few meters away.

He opened it, rustling around, before finding the ice pack he had been looking for. There was thankfully many a spare costume lying around which Jaehyun wrapped round the icepack before placing it on your foot.

“We are fucked.” He said. You looked down him confused.

“Why?”

“Well… we are the most important act, and with a foot that swollen, you cannot perform, we have to grab you by the leg, you have to jump, you have to hang – you will do permanent damage.” He explained.

“I was permanently damaged a long time ago,” you smirked, “And a small injury will not stop me performing, worry not Jaehyun.”

“Surely you can’t be allowed to, there must be rules regulations?” he asked.

“This is an underfunded circus, not Cirque de Soleil, not the Olympics, nobodies checking if we follow said regulations. The circus needs this video, after that, we get the money we need, that is more important than my bloody foot injury, there is always another performer Jaehyun, you proved that. However, there is not another tonight.”

Jaehyun shook his head,

“Why do you pick yourself to be the one thing you don’t care about, don’t look after,” he asked, the sadness in his eyes was almost unbearable to see. So you stopped looking at him.

You stared at the distant lights of the circus ring instead.

“The circus is me, I am the circus. I am nothing without it.”

“That’s not true, you are…” He stopped.

“I am Addie, the trapeze Juliet, and no one else and for Adeline, the show must always go on.” You said, grabbing some bandages out of the box Jaehyun had found and standing up, feeling the shooting pain it caused in your foot and ignoring it.

“Just because you won’t tell me your name doesn’t mean you don’t have one,” Jaehyun called after you when you walked away.

“Maybe I’ll break a leg,” You replied, “literally.”

You stopped outside the tent where there was a bench for getting changed, surrounded by a curtain of sorts. You sat down on the bench, sighing as you felt the pain in your leg once again.

Jaehyun hadn’t been wrong, performing with this sort of injury ran the high risk of permanent injury. It also had the chance of having no issues at all, it could all be fine in three or so hours. Without your performance, the circus had a one hundred per cent chance of shutting down – to you it wasn’t even a contest.

You wrapped the bandages tightly around your foot, you knew about first aid, you knew how best to support it. You fixed it in place with some sports tape lying on the ground before getting your costume out that you had left, in order to get changed for the trapeze performance.

You were just about to open the curtain when you heard to voices arguing outside.

“We can’t let her just like… break her leg!” you heard someone protest, realising it was Jaehyun.

“I have two things to say,” You heard, to your own surprise, Doyoung reply, “Firstly, she is a grown woman she can do what she wants, even if you disagree. Second I don’t even object, people perform slightly injured all the time around here.”

“Am I the only one who cares enough about her to not want her to get injured. I get the circus has really helped you all, it helped me, but people are more important than this fucking circus.” Jaehyun replied angrily.

Doyoung said nothing.

You exhaled before throwing the curtain open and walking over, the pain in your leg already fading.

“Just chill Jaehyun,” you said, as you got closer, only leaning to one side slightly as you made your way over. “It already hurts less, it will really be fine.”

Jaehyun unfolded his arms, pinching the bridge of his nose as he looked up at the sky above.

“I just really don’t want to see you get hurt,” Jaehyun said.

You breathed in sharply. Fuck it, you thought as you stepped forward, wrapping your arms around Jaehyun’s shoulders.

“I know you’re mad at me,” you said. His body has frozen, one arm by his side, one in the air, totally still, “but I don’t want you to worry, if I thought I was really at risk I wouldn’t do that.”

You didn’t really know why you were hugging him, or what you thought that would achieve. Reassurance maybe?

Jaehyun’s body finally caught up with his brain when he moved, pushing your arms away and stepping back. He didn’t say anything before walking back into the tent. You knew he was still annoyed, why wouldn’t he be. Just because he cared about you didn’t mean he wasn’t hurt.

You refocused. The performance started in ten minutes. You started stretching and warming up. Doyoung was still standing a few metres away.

“I think he’s mad at you,” he joked, “I wonder why, it can’t just be the foot thing.”

You gave him a sharp look.

“Take a fucking guess Doyoung.” You said, eyes looking dead at him.

“Ah because you sort of still love me but also don’t,” he said, the joking look gone from his face.

“It doesn’t matter I don’t think you or me is in the mental place to be finding new relationships anyway,” you asserted. Doyoung shrugged.

“Performance time, Adeline,” Taeyong cut in, walking past you both. You looked away from Doyoung, picked up your stuff and walked back into the tent.

The crowd was clapping and cheering, you could hear the laughter even from outside. Haechan had become funnier on all accounts seemingly.

Standing in the wing, waiting to go on you could see Jaehyun’s eyes glistening in the lights on the other side of the tent. Doyoung walked up next to him, both of them standing side by side.

They both looked ethereal in their costumes, they were dressed like angels so it made sense. But Jaehyun… maybe because he was wearing white, but you didn’t think that was it… Jaehyun shone. He was like the brightest star in the sky.

The music started and you ran, the pain in your foot faded into the background. You lifted into the air on the trapeze and you flew. And Jaehyun caught you. And Doyoung caught you. And the crowd clapped when it was over.

Taeyong walked into the ring, he thanked everyone for coming, he thanked the sponsor. But you barely heard a word. You were still looking at Jaehyun. His once sad face looked exhilarated after performing, he had become a real circus star.

Taeyong had put on a party to thank everyone for the hard work they put in. You were on an adrenaline high, confused and sad. Something you used as an excuse to get blackout drunk.

Johnny looked alarmed as you downed another shot.

“Whoah there, you good?” he asked.

“Absolutely not!” you slurred back. Johnny laughed.

“Fair enough.”

You stumbled around a bit, talking to people here and there, none of them Jaehyun. You were annoyed that your antics hadn’t gained his attention yet. You knew it was selfish, that he had every right to what to keep his distance.

You wanted to be near him though, without him you felt like your life wasn’t quite what it needed to be, you needed your guiding star.

Instead, you saw Doyoung making out with a random girl. You felt a severe rage build inside of you. It could have been the alcohol or the fact that Doyoung seemed to be able to move on, in less than a week.

“Dickhead!” you screamed in his general direction before you could stumble closer. The girl quickly made an exit, she clearly wasn’t the kind of person who wanted to get in the middle of somebody else’s issue.

“How can you be mad?” Doyoung asked. “You broke it off with me!”

You stopped about two feet in front of him, bringing your arm up and poking him in the chest.

“I waited a year, a year, to move on from you, you take a week, is this a joke?” you shouted, infuriated.

“You’re drunk,” Doyoung said, trying to brush you off.

“I may be drunk, but I can still process thoughts, I am mad, alcohol or not,” you clarified.

“I just don’t think it’s a big deal,” Doyoung said, “You can go kiss Jaehyun, I don’t care.”

“Did you even still like me?” You asked, “When we had sex, you said you still loved me, but if you got over me this fast, I just don’t believe that can be true.”

“I said what I thought you wanted me to say,” he replied. That was it for you, you couldn’t forgive him saying that. It was like something in you just broke. All the time you spent, all the time you wasted. You ruined your relationship with Jaehyun just for someone who didn’t even love you.

You weren’t in love with him anymore, but you still loved Doyoung, Doyoung never seemed to care about you though. That was the person you had caused Jaehyun pain for. You broke inside, you were drunk and angry.

You took the bottle of vodka you were holding in your hand and smashed it straight over Doyoung’s head, causing him to fall to the ground, blood leaking from his forehead. You screamed, not believing what you had just done.

“Help!” You screamed, pulling your jumper over your head and pressing it against Doyoung’s forehead where it was bleeding.

Johnny and Jaehyun ran over.

“What happened Addie?” Johnny asked, but you couldn’t answer, you had begun to bawl uncontrollably.

“Ambulance,” was all you could say, “call an ambulance.”

Jaehyun pulled out his phone and dialled for the emergency services.

Johnny took over holding the jumper against Doyoung’s head. By now Haechan and Taeyong were both there, Haechan was trying to get people to move back to give Doyoung and Johnny more space.

You were crouching beside them both now silent as tears streamed down your face, in shock. You couldn’t believe what you had done, you wanted to hurt him… but you didn’t want to hurt him.

Jaehyun got off the phone.

“They said ten minutes. Try and keep him awake.” He said. Johnny nodded.

“Doyoung? Can you hear me?” he asked, “what happened?”

Doyoung was half asleep when he replied,

“Addie hit me, not her fault…”

Johnny turned around and looked at you.

“What the fuck did you do?” he asked which only caused you to start to cry harder. All the shit you had been dealing with for over a year, you were dealing with it now, in one explosion of emotion.

“Jaehyun, can you just,” Johnny said pointing to where you were panic-crying. Jaehyun nodded, he leant down and picked you up,

“It’s okay,” he said to you, trying to calm you as he carried you away. You couldn’t stop the tears from falling continuously, so Jaehyun carried you the whole way back to your caravan, a two-minute walk away from the scene with Doyoung.

“I did something terrible,” you whispered when he set you down on your sofa. Jaehyun didn’t say anything in reply. He just reached over and undid your laces, pulling your trainers off, before walking over to your kettle and turning it on, pulling out two tea bags.

As the kettle boiled he found a blanket in your cupboard and wrapped it around your shoulders.

“What happened?” he asked quietly, as he sat down, pushing your tea towards you, before taking a sip of his own.

You wiped your eyes on the blanket.

“I hit him over the head with a vodka bottle.”

“Why?” Jaehyun asked, knowing you wouldn’t have done anything for no reason.

“He said that the day we … you know… that he only said he loved me because that’s what I wanted to hear. He was making out with a girl you see and it just made me angry. I wasted a year of my life waiting for him… he moved on in three days. He didn’t even love me that day, yet I hurt you, who did love me.” You explained.

“I guess it was just all the anger I ever felt towards him came out, it was stupid,” you admitted, a tear falling into your tea.

“You’re not stupid for feeling how you feel,” Jaehyun said.

“I did something really bad.”

“Doesn’t make you a bad person, you taught me that,”

“Using my own words against me,” you managed to chuckle, “Do you think he will be okay?”

Jaehyun nodded.

“Johnny texted me, he’s in the ambulance with Doyoung, he’s going to survive at least.”

“That’s not the best outcome,” you said, tears falling down your face again.

“It’s also not the worst outcome,” Jaehyun reassured you.

“Yes. Thank God I’m not a murderer.”

Jaehyun didn’t know what to reply to that. You both sat in silence for a while just drinking your cups of tea.

“He kind of deserved it overall,” Jaehyun joked, trying to make you feel better, “You’re even now, both of you have severely injured the other.” Except Doyoung hadn’t dropped you intentionally. Jaehyun watched you sadly, he didn’t ask any more questions, he just sipped his tea and waited for you to talk, he knew you wanted to say something, he was just waiting for you to say it.

You both got a text from Johnny: DY fine. He has an internal head injury but Dr says it will heal on its own within a few weeks. He doesn’t need surgery. He can’t perform trapeze anytime soon though.

“I destroyed the circus I worked so hard to save,”

“There are always other performers,” Jaehyun argued, again using your own words against you.

“I guess I just tried so hard to be something better at the circus, but Adeline clearly isn’t any better than the old me.” You confessed, “She got into the wrong relationship, resorted to violence and anger just like the old me did. Adeline isn’t any better than me.”

Jaehyun placed his cup down on the table and stared at you, dead in the eye.

“You’re the same person, you are not some character, you are not actually a star crossed lover thwarted by the devil. Not telling people your name, doesn’t make you not you.” Jaehyun said, “You are just you, good and bad, you’re a beautiful and talented person. Today you made a mistake but then we all make mistakes. You are a person, not a flawless character.”

You thought about what he was saying. Maybe he was right. Maybe part of your problem was that you were trying to distance yourself for your past, you couldn’t learn, you couldn’t grow because you never even accepted your past.

You reached your hand out across the table for Jaehyun to shake,

“Nice to meet you Jaehyun,” you said, he looked confused for a second before you continued, “I’m y/n.”

He was surprised, he took a few seconds to understand what you had just said, murmuring your name under his breath, before he could properly reply you continued.

“I am y/n and I joined the circus when I was 19. I joined the circus because when I was 18 I had this deadbeat boyfriend, though I didn’t realise it at the time. I had been dating him for just over and he treated me like I meant nothing. It wasn’t that he physically hurt me or anything but he was emotionally abusive. He controlled every aspect of my life, made me feel like I meant nothing.

One night we went to watch the circus, it was one of the nights I remember him be actually nice to me. He bought me popcorn and we saw the acrobats twirl and we laughed at the clowns.

I saw the smile on the Ringmaster’s face, I saw his pride in his show. I looked at my life at that moment and realised there was nothing I was proud of. All I had was a boyfriend that mistreated me. He was all I had and I couldn’t even be proud of him.

That night I managed to get him to let me go to the toilet without him waiting outside for me. I didn’t go to the toilet though. I went to the back of the tent and found the Ringmaster where he had just finished his show. I asked him if I could join the circus.”

Jaehyun looked like he was about to cry but got you to continue,

“What did he say?”

“Well seeing as we are here right now he said yes. But more specifically he asked me why I wanted to join the circus. I said I wanted to do something I could be proud of. I explained that I was hiding from my boyfriend also, but that was only part of my problem. So he said yes, Taeyong said yes.”

Jaehyun got up from where he was sitting across from you and moved to sit down next to you pulling you into a hug.

“And you said you hadn’t got better y/n, you must be kidding.” He said, “Look at everything you have to be proud of now, you are a talented performer, you have so many great friends, who respect you so much, your trapeze act saved a circus.”

You shook your head, leaning into his arms.

“I also have temperament issues and assaulted a man, a man who was my boyfriend who still didn’t ever really respect me.”

Jaehyun brushed his hand through your hair, looking up at the stars through your skylight.

“You are negative marking yourself – you are taking away points for the bad things, instead of adding points for the many more good things. Even back then Addie… I mean y/n you said you had nothing to be proud of, yet you were brave enough to pull yourself out of an abusive relationship. That was something to be proud of.”

“You are too kind,” you said to him, looking into his brown eyes. Yet he was so sincere you couldn’t help but believe his words.

“That is your fault, if you really have one, is not believing enough in you. You found the good in me, once you even found it in Doyoung, now just recognise it in you.”

He kissed your forehead.

“You always talk about how I am your star and Doyoung was a black hole, but you don’t realise y/n – that it is you, you’re the star of the show. You’re certainly the star of my show.”

You leant up the last few inches and kissed Jaehyun on the lips, just for a second. The most innocent of kisses but to both of you, it was more powerful than anything.

“That’s the final thing I am proud of,” you said, “the one thing you missed on your list.” You explained.

Jaehyun looked confused,

“What, but I said that you were a great performer.”

You cut him off.

“No, I meant loving you. I am proud to say I love you Jaehyun because I finally love someone who is really worth loving, who loves me just as much if I can be bold enough to say it and someone who respects me. You really are my north star, a light to guide me home.”

“We talk about stars a lot,” Jaehyun joked as you settled your head back into his shoulder.

“Because that’s what we are,” you joked back, “as you said – the stars of the show.”

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Five Fics Friday: April 10/20

SPECIAL EASTER WEEKEND EDITION: FIFTY FICS FRIDAY

Hey, everyone!!

Well, I asked on my Twitter and here if y’all wanted to see a special edition 5FF for the Long Weekend since we’re all stuck inside (and some of you stuck with family I’m sure you’d like to avoid or are just tired of seeing), and it was a unanimous YES, because who doesn’t love to curl up all weekend with a good book or fanfic??

So here we are: Fifty fics either pulled out of my ass, recently read, recently bookmarked, or recently Marked for Later! Each section has a count so you know how many are in that section (and it’s for myself when I go to double check the count, LOL). I hope you guys enjoy these!! <3 Love you all, and happy reading :)

As always, read-more will appear on the third reblog. Sorry mobile, please don’t hate me :(

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@johnlockficclub APRIL NOMINATIONS (5)

A Beginner's Guide to Apiology. by VictoryCandescence (M, 10,952 w., 1 Ch. || Retirement AU || Friendship, Love, Bees & Beekeeping, Old Age, Dreamy Sexytimes, Angst, Soulmates, Grumpy Sherlock, Magical Realism) – John and Sherlock meet for the first time as old men in Sussex. (to read)

Through the Clouds by Mazarin221b (E, 20,004 w., 6 Ch. || Retirement, Sussex, Bees, Home Improvement, First Time, Romance) – Sherlock takes a remarkably early retirement at 47, and convinces John that a change of pace would do them both good. They buy an old cottage on the South Downs, and exchange their nonstop life in Baker Street for quiet contemplation, bee studies, and book writing. They might go completely insane, but sometimes it takes stepping outside of the life you're living to find the life you want. Part 1 of Through The Clouds (“WINNER” fic)

The Winter Garden by Callie4180 (T, 31,213 w., 13 Ch. || Post-S4, Retirement, Christmas, Slow Burn, Grown-Up Rosie, Parenthood, Rosie’s Cat, Angst with Happy Ending, Holidays, Beekeeping, Magical Realism, Sherlock POV, Sherlock’s Violin, Future Fic, Sussex, Honey, Magical Healing Honey, Love Confessions, Sherlock’s Scar, First Kiss, Touching, Mycroft is Dying) – As Sherlock nears the end of his career, he's given the gift of a cottage in Sussex. The honey from the beehives out back is amazing. Almost...magical.

Where Else Would I Be? by cwb (E, 34,910 w., 10 Ch. || Retirementlock, Domestic Fluff, Falling in Love, Parentlock, Fluff and Smut, Reminiscing) – John and Sherlock's five-year-old granddaughter spends the weekend with them in Sussex. Sherlock happily indulges her whims, and John takes care of them while quietly revisiting the past thirty years of their lives together.

Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes. (to read)

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Sherlock's Solution by PipMer (T, 4,125 w., 1 Ch, || Fluff, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Isolation/Quarantine, Pining, Miscommunication, First Kiss) – Sherlock and John are stuck in quarantine. Against all expectations, John is the one who goes stir-crazy first. Sherlock has a unique solution to the problem. (to read)

The Unexpected Threat by J_Baillier (T, 4,283 w., 1 Ch. || Military AU / Pacific Rim Fusion || Established Relationship, Medical Conditions, Coronaviruses, Doctor John, Bratty Sherlock, Romance, Science Fiction, Futuristic Medicine, Ghost Drifting AKA Telepathy, Medical Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Healing) – The kaiju are not the only threat to the security and well-being of the staff of PPDC's Chard's Rift base. It's the year 2050, and a coronavirus epidemic sweeping the planet has reached The Azores. Part 4 of the At The Edge of Our Hope (to read)

Quarantine by wendymarlowe (T, 6,444+ w., 20/? Ch. || WiP || COVID-19, Forced Isolation / Quarantine, John’s Blog, Humour) – John and Sherlock are stuck at 221B together due to coronavirus concerns. Sherlock slowly drives John barmy. (to read)

Stranded by BeautifulFiction (T, 5,798 w., 1 Ch. || First Kiss, Communication / Relationship Discussion, Pining Sherlock, Sherlock POV, BAMF John, Doctor John, Case Fic, Drinking, Huddling For Warmth, Friends to More) –  When stranded on a derelict barge at high tide, John and Sherlock reconsider their friendship.

Attentions, Experiments, Oddnesses by hubblegleeflower (E, 6,383 w., 1 Ch. || Friends to Lovers, Experiments, Frottage, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, First Time) – John is behaving oddly, and Sherlock hopes it means what he thinks it means, but he has several theories and could well be missing some of the facts. (to read)

Casualty by Silvergirl (E, 12,051 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Compliant Until T6T, Mary’s Dead, Trauma/Comfort, John’s a Good Friend, Friends to Lovers, First Kiss/Time, Sherlock Learns Teamwork, Parentlock) – Sherlock renders assistance at a hit-and-run and is left deeply shocked. When the accident turns into a case, John moves back in to 221b to help—and finds that Sherlock has way oversold his image as an emotionless thinking machine. (to read)

The Night Riviera from Paddington to Penzance and Back Again by  Iwantthatcoat (M, 12,918 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Hurt/Comfort Emotional Hurt/Comfort, BAMF John, Devil's Foot Adaptation, Hallucinations, Oral Sex) – Mrs Hudson has decided her boys need a little vacation together (after the events of S4) away from London and has booked them an inordinately (per Sherlock) long train ride from Paddington Station to Penzance. (to read)

A Gossamer Dream by CarmillaCarmine (E, 15,985 w., 4 Ch. || Writer/Teacher AU || First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Writer John / Teacher Sherlock, Fluff, London, Holding Hands, Online Friendship / Romance, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Happy Ending) – Sherlock had never realised one could care so much about someone they'd never met in person. Now he is about to meet the friend with whom he's been chatting online for months and his anticipation is reaching a crescendo. (to read)

Contrition by sussexbound (E, 18,556+ w., 5/? Ch. || WiP || Post-S4/TFP Didn’t Happen, Rosie Doesn’t Exist, T6T/TLD is Canon, Year After TLD, Light BDSM, Soft Dom Sherlock / Sub John, Punishment, Light Bondage, Light Masochism / No Sadism, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Tenderness, Aftercare, Forgiveness, Edging, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Mutual Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Anal Fingering, Rimming, Frottage, Communication, Sexual Negotiation, Sexual Tension, Spanking, Head Injury, Anal Sex) – “You’ve been tense ever since we got back, itching for a fight, all your usual tells, but why…?” The truth strikes like lightning. “Oh… Oh! You’re not angry at me. Not this time. Well—maybe a little. But mostly, mostly you’re angry at yourself. Why? For falling behind? For not being there in time. For not taking Wilkes down fast enough?” Sherlock waves a dismissive hand. “It doesn’t really matter.” He lifts a finger to his swollen cheek and cut eyebrow. “You blame yourself for this. And you offered to fix it. But I wouldn’t let you, and… But that’s not what you really want, anyway, is it?” John looks stunned, a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming lorry, frozen, waiting for the lethal strike. “You don’t want me to let you help. At least not right away. No. What you want, what you really want is—punishment.” (to read)

Feeling Seen by jadztone (E, 30,177 w., 9 Ch. || Ballet!Sherlock / Rugby!John, Demisexuality, Virgin John, Experienced Sherlock, Toplock, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Background Molly/Irene & Greg/Sally) – Rugby player John is starting over at a new university, with the help of friends Molly and Bill. Few people know that John is demisexual, but ballet dancer Sherlock Holmes deduces right away that he has no interest in sex unless he’s fallen in love. John finds this strange genius intriguing and would like to get to know him, but Sherlock has a self-cultivated reputation for only wanting casual sex. John has reason to believe that’s not really true, but he’s not sure he wants to risk his twice-fractured heart to find out. (to read)

Sanguineous Serendipity by CarmillaCarmine (E, 34,783 w., 14 Ch. || Vampire AU || Alternate First Meeting, Turning a Character, Vampire Sherlock, Captain John, POV John, Feeding, Blood Drinking, Crossdressing Sherlock, Genderfluid Character, Sherlock in Heels, Transphobic Behaviour, Emotional Hurt / Comfort, Soulmates, Romance, Happy Ending) – Vampire Sherlock meets a dying John in a field hospital in Afghanistan and gives him a whole new life. (to read)

The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse by SilentAuror (E, 50,635 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S4/S4 Divergence, Case Fic, For a Case / Reverse Fake-Relationship, Conferences, Marriage Equality, Travelling / New York, Pride, Homophobia, Bottomlock, Marriage Proposal, John POV, Sexuality, Love Confessions, Emotional Love Making, Public Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Passionate Kissing, Needy/Clingy Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Touching / Hand Holding, Bed Sharing, Little Spoon Sherlock, Intense Orgasms) – John and Sherlock go to New York to attend a conference run by the National Defence of Traditional Marriage Coalition in order to investigate the potential bombing of the annual Manhattan Pride parade. As the conference unfolds, John finds himself repulsed by the toxic ideology being presented, which becomes relevent to his own unacknowledged issues and his friendship with Sherlock...

Next Right: Welcome to Westbound Rest Area 818 by elwinglyre (E, 59,874+ w., 13/15 Ch. || WiP || American Unilock AU || Bunk Beds, Anonymous Sex, Homophobia, Closeted John, Roommates, Angst with Happy Ending, Idiots in Love, Music, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt John, BAMF John) – Sherlock Holmes dreams of escape from his smothering family and space to breathe. Studying chemistry at the University of Michigan, he's almost far enough away to fill his lungs. Almost. While John Watson dreams of being a doctor, he also dreams of being with another man. John knows that with hard work and study, he can make the first a reality, but he's certain the second can never be. Until a secret encounter in the dark at Rest Area 818 changes everything. When Sherlock meets his new roommate, John Watson, he sees a man in the closet. Sherlock hides from no one. Except from his own family, a detective inspector who wants his evidence returned, and his secret encounter at Rest Area 818. Thank you to recently folded who lovingly beta’d chapters 1-5 and helped with an important plot point that deeply enriches this story. Also thank you to hotshoeagain for beta'ing the rest of the story.Setting late 1970s, Michigan, USA. POV third person alternates between John Watson and Sherlock Holmes. (to read)

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater /  Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

ANYTHING GOES – JOHNLOCK (5)

Talk by illwick (E, 6,364 w., 1 Ch. || Dirty Talk, John’s Giant Junk, PWP, Light BDSM, Size Kink, Oral / Anal, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Rel.) – Sherlock was never much for dirty talk... until an unexpected visit yields unexpected results. Part 20 of Unwind

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

Pater Noster by SilentAuror (E, 34,256 w., 2 Ch. || Case Fic, HLV/S3 Fix It Fic, Family Trauma, Sherlock POV, Villain Mary) – During the autumn that John is staying at Baker Street again after Sherlock was shot, he ruminates over the similarity between Sherlock's shot and the one that killed his father when he was fifteen. Cold case meets series 3 fix-it. Part I takes place entirely within His Last Vow, Part II takes place starting at the end of HLV and continues after.

The Homecoming Series by sussexbound (M, 51,744 w. across 12 stories, WIP || Domestics, PTSD, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling, Jealousy, Family Issues) – Sometimes home is all you need. After three years of horror, betrayals, and crushing loss, John and Sherlock find their way back home to one another, and together find new footing in a world that has changed forever.

The Green Blade by verityburns (T, 72,929 w., 15 Ch. || Case Fic, Bromance) – As a serial killer hits the headlines, the police are out of their depth and the next victim is out of time. With faith in Sherlock Holmes at an all time low, this is a case which will push loyalties to the limit...

ANYTHING GOES – INEFFABLE HUSBANDS (5)

All Roads Lead To You by TardisIsTheOnlyWayToTravel (T, 2,549 w., 2 Ch.|| Pining Crowley, Oblivious Aziraphale, Love Confessions, Feelings, Resolved Romantic Tension, Rescuing, Happy Ending, Snake Crowley, Magic Bracelets, POV Aziraphale) – It had taken Aziraphale quite some time to find the presence he had been looking for, but here he was, in the Reptile House of the London Zoo. As an angel, Aziraphale shouldn’t have been finding amusement in the discomfort of another, but he couldn’t help but do so as he was glared at by a very familiar snake. “Oh my dear,” Aziraphale murmured, “how ever did you end up in this situation?”

The slowest moving object in the universe by chamyl (G, 4,996 w., 1 Ch. || God POV, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Beach Day, Games, Light Humour, Tenderness, Embarassed Crowley, Soft Idiots, First Kiss, Love Confessions) – Crowley and Aziraphale have had feelings for each other for a very long time. It takes a date at the lake and a round of 36 Questions That Lead To Love to give them the final push.

Wings and How to Hide Them by triedunture (M, 10,134 w., 1 Ch. || Mutual Pining, First Time, Love Confessions, Body Swap, Wing Kink, Idiots In Love) – Crowley's been annoyingly in love for six thousand years. What's another lifetime between friends? Or: Aziraphale definitely fucks and isn't that just perfect?

Souls In Creation by Dragonfruit112 (NR [M], 23,110 w., 6 Ch. || Aziraphale was Raphael, Hurt/Comfort, Angst With Happy Ending, True Angel Forms, Memory Loss/Amnesia, Seraph!Aziraphale, Cherub!Crowley, Moments of Time, Pining Aziraphale, Deaths, Disasters Through History, Whump, Taking Care of Each Other, Friendship, Mates to Friends to Mates, Bed Sharing, Sick Crowley, Healing Powers, BAMF Aziraphale) – They knew each other before the Fall. They loved each other before the Fall. They were creation's first soul mates. But the Fall changed everything, and now Aziraphale is forced to live in a world where only he remembers their shared past. Burdened by pain and grief, he hides himself under the guise of a clumsy Principality until he can make his love remember once more. Only, he doesn't know how long that'll take.

Any Way You Want It by LieutenantLiv (M, 27,585 w., 5 Ch. || Holidays, Slow Burn, Fluff, First Time, Eventual Smut, Swimming, Dreams of Dancing, Kissing in the Rain, Self-Esteem Issues, Misunderstandings, Crying Love Confessions, Soft Crowley, Clingy Crowley, Virgin Aziraphale, Romance) – Saving the world is exhausting work. With Heaven and Hell off their backs, it seems as good a time as any for Crowley and Aziraphale to take a proper break. Neither one of them predicts the direction their holiday takes.Who'd have thought that sharing a cottage in Scotland would be quite so romantic?

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

my annotations for chappy 11 of ysijwa

this is just for drea and leyla to read so if you're not drea or leyla pls keep scrolling :)

ok this is pretty chaotic and like i said earlier i treated this ike a wattpad comment section so... have fun ig :)

SHERLOCK AND WATSON CINEMATIC UNIVERSE SHUT UPPPPP I LOVE YOU SM DREA

NOT MISS SNAP CRACKLE POP

jealous y/n you say???

now i know why you ignored all my tiktok asks lmao

HELPLESS OH MY GOD

truly madly deeply intended :)

damn he's kind of a narcissist yk? like "I have to be serious my entire family depends on it" shut up mr darcy you're not special

devout in his religion hmmmmmm hopefully we see some more religious trauma content bc me too vampy

awww he wants kids but now he cant have them bc hes... dead :(

AWWW his sister taught him to knit :( if he doesn't knit bloodbag a sweater i swear to god

stuffy moron is correct

"IT'S A FUCKING WONDER HE EVER GOT LAID" OIJRIOJWEIOJIEWOJFIOEJOF

"THE ATROCITY THAT IS BEING ACQUAINTED WITH NIALL AND HIS HORRIBLE AFFINITY FOR CHEAP FLANEL" ORJFOIJFEIOWJ YOURE SUCH A POET

he's so dumb she was with him bc he's hot that much should be obvious to him🙄

FOOLISHLY HOPELESSLY UNMEASURABLY IN LOVE HWAT THE FUCK DREA IM SAD

i love that he remembers the spinal cord dislocation and the dead leaves . like yea im dead rn but the leaves in my hair are really what's bothering me the most

what the fuck is a maw

ok i looked it up i get it now

"attachment is for gullible idiots" yup and youre one of them vampy 😌

"the warmest skin his icy fingers had ever had the good fortune to touch" im so soft rn

oh so now she has "a wholesome beauty about her nature" ? i thought she was just cute enough 🤨

HE THINKS HER SMILE COULD RESTART HIS HEART THATS SO CUTE IM OUHOIJFOEWIJFIOEWJ

"the responsibility of keeping her safe, satisfied, and happy" how 🥺 🥺🥺

"as long as he breathes" i thought he didn't breathe lmao BUT I GET THE SENTIMENT

"always when it comes to her" IM SCREAMING RN THIS IS SO SOFT I CANT

ill never forgive him for being so dense either his brain is basically a rock

HE WANTED TO COMMUNICATE THAT HE BELONGED TO HER IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE

couldnt be me i dont want to be percieved

HE ADDED A FUCKING BUTTERFLY AFTER THE DISCO BALLS IM OIWFJIOEWJFIOEJIOEWNOJIWJ(*H(WUIOFJIOEWJFIOWHVIFUEH)U)($UT

HEY a hamilton obsession is not childish😤

'the only person who was allowed to touch him there was y/n' he's like a little kid who's possessive omggggggg

oh this reminds me i rlly hope everything in that chest was new and had never been used on anyone else owijfowiejfioewj

oh please my irish king can control himself let y/n meet the other vamps🙄

"if they knew all along why did it take so long" yk im wondering the same thing dummy

"every day was a battle to earn her love and affection" wtffff how could she hurt him like that he is just a baby

i think he needs therapy tbh

yes he does deserve to be treated with respect and dignity😤

"supporting and tolerating them despite your differences" exactly unless they're a republican

IM SORRY THAT WAS MEAN OIWFJOIWJFEIOw i said what i said tho

they did everything backwards but it's what baby needed🥺

im literally gonna 🔪 bradley how dare he hurt my favorite ribeye like that

PROPER BOYFRIEND-GIRLFRIEND BONDING PLSSSSS im sure he makes sure to say stuff like "as your boyfriend' or 'since youre my girlfriend' all the time now

"everything that has to do with harry has always and will always make her feel safe and secure" ...who's gonna tell her👀

HE BECOMES CLINGY IVE BEEN WAITIN FOR THIS ONE TURN IT UP

awwww my love language is also quality times bestiesssssss

(this is more serious you might want to change the words to nose kisses or something because esk*mo is a slur)

HE wants to be wrapped in HER arms and get forehead kissies like a little baby🥺🥺

i can tell you wrote this chappy bc leyla would never write about ice cream

IF CHRIST CAN GET A DATE MARKER SO CAN HARRY OIFJOEIWJFIOEWJFWI PLSSSSSSSSSS I LOVE HIM

ALWAYS FOR HER WEJFIOJWEIOFJEWIOFJOIEWJFOIEWJF HES SO IN LOOOOOVE

HE DID IT AND IM SO PROUD OF HIM🥺

omg i have a thot imagine if she got a heart murmur or something and obvi he knows bc he can hear it so now he has to find a way to make her get it checked out out without being suspicious 😭

HE ROCKS HER TO CALM HER DOWN WHEN SHES HAVING NIGHTMARES IJFEOWIJFOIWEFJ

“nearly blinds himself for eternity” what a drama queen i love him

maybe learn how to turn your brightness down grandpa

“can women sense emotional distress” why is this so funny oiewfjwieojfioewj

DEHUMANIZING OWEIJOIAJAKLFSDJLKSDJFKLD

not a psychotic episode 😭😭

crippling mommy issues woejfkljdklsjsdf me too king

awwwww he made her a full buffet i would cry

matchy socks im gonna sob

king is a chef 😌

y/n’s head @ harry’s clavicle rn: 💥

“his plush chest” drea its ok you can say titties

“absolutely flawless”? are you sure shes not just cute enough 🤨

he got her oat milk 🥺the sign of true love

hes such a shithead i love him

SPELLING HIS NAM E ON HER TUMMY IM HAVING ANOTHER STROKE

“I DIDNT WANT TO LEAVE YOU ALL ALONE” HES SO WOIFJSJFSDKJKLSDJF

HE DIDNT HAVE TO DO NIALL LIKE THAT 😭😭

RAPUNZEL HAIR OSIDJSKJKLSJF

she traces a tiny heart on him wtfffffffffff im sad

this… is hot

“theres no room on the counter” owifjlksjfslkfjklsj

HE WOULD WALK THROUGH FIRE FOR HER maybe then he’d be a little less cold

im sorry that was wrong of me lisjfskldjfwoiejewiojrei

OH MY GOD OWEIJFKLJSKLFJL SHES SO BOLD “can’t i?” OSIJFKSLJLKJF

oh boy hes gonna kill her

I WONDERED WHEN THE YOURE HOT WHEN YOURE MEAN THING WAS GOING TO COME UP

literally shut the fuck up mr english major

do it bestie kick him in the balls

SPARE BOOBIES MAAM I CNAT BELIEVE YOU aCTUALLY WROTE THAT OWIFEJWIJEKLJFOIEWHOEWIFEHFLKEWJFKLEWJKLJFL

IM WHITE IM ALLERGIC TO SPICE WEJFLKJFKLEJFLKJSKLJKFSJD

“character development at its finest” what a self aware king

y/n stop being mean to him baby just wants to feel close ☹️

“I’m anemic” ok king whatever u say

“ME AND MY CHRONIC ILLNESS IM SENSITIVE” IJFKLSDJFKLJSDKLJ

ahhhhhhh it’s yoga time

“just ask your cervix” jlksdjflksdjflkdsjflk

“if only you knew” ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️

yeah y/n isnt like those other girls 🤪 shes different 🤪

yes bestie objectify him

THERE IT IS MY FAVORITE LINE IN THIS ENTRIE BOOK

PERHAPS MY FAVORITE LINE IN ANY BOOK EVER

“He hasn't been this stiff since rigor mortis”

i think about this on a daily basis i truly do

grey shorts? what a slut

“call the lapd im pressing charges” me after walking up the stairs

OH SO THIS IS WHERE THE GREYS ANATOMY CHARACTERS FROM THE SPOILERS WITHOUT CONTEXT COME IN

him using his shirt as a towel im BARKING

“I wasnt jealous” yea ok 😃

AGAIN HIM DRAWING HIS INITIALS ON HER SKIN THATS SO WOIJFSKLDJFLSJ

yeah harold she just wanted a little kiss 😤

yeah 😃 its bc he ran track 😃

no bc thats so fucking cute that she pretended she had never seen the show before bc he was excited to introduce her to it 🥺

I would do the same tbh i feel like it would be fun to wash dishes with harry idk why

“that skank” oisjksldfjklsjfklsdjflkd

YOUR THICK SKULL COULD DAMAGE THE MARBLE LSKFJKLDSJKFLSDJFKLSJFKLSJKLSJLDKFJLSKDJF I WOULD CRY

he gets her a cup of water 🥺

ok but like wouldn't she want to wash her hair after it got all sweaty at yoga

awwwww she got his toothbrush ready for him why am i so soft rn

memory foam mattresses sound nice but actually they kind of suck bc you sink down and feel trapped in them 😃

HE WATCHED THE TIKTOK SHE SENT HIM IM HAVING A THIRD STROKE

niall is probably on the dumbest side of tiktok idek what side but it’s probably annoying and he thinks it’s hilarious

noooo baby youre not a monster🥺 someone give him a hug rn

well actually you are kind of a monster but its ok we still love u bestie

I too run on caffeine and pizza pockets 😌

TONSIL HOCKEY WHAT THE FUCK OIEJFLSDKJFKLSDJFLSJLKFJSDKLFJ

chatsnap hes such an old man 😭

true lmao if you dont have social media i immediately dont trust you

not the i just washed my hands tiktok 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

HE FEELS STRANGELY PERCIEVED RN KJFLSJFLKSDJ IDK WHY THIS IS SO FUNNY TO ME BUT IM LIKE LEGIT LAUGHING

DO IT BESTIE BITE HIM CHOMP CHOMP

“my eyes are stinging” hes such a baby 😭

“MY SIGH”TS ALL FUZZY” SJFKDSLJFLKDSJFLKDSJFLK

“are you all right” “I dont know :(’ i cant handle this my face hurts from smiling lksjflkjafklj

he has a kitchenaid stand mixer omg thats so sexy

ok but has anyone ever gotten salmonella from raw cookie dough bc i think thats just a myth

fuck u for that one vampy

wow he could never deal with my chronically ill ass

WAIT IS IT WAP

NOPE ITS BETTER LSDFJSDKLFJDS

I agree body is absolutely an instrumental masterpiece

I KNEW HE KNOWS SOME TIKTOK DANCES I KNEW IT

“I know youre kinda into that (getting smacked in the face)” SHUT UPPPPPPP SKJFSKDLJFDS

NOT HIM TWERKING SLKFJSDKLFJDSKLFJDSKL

YES YN GET THAT VIDEO AND BLACKMAIL HIM

“I think i popped something” ok old man 😭

why is the word wench so funny lkfjslkfjdslkfjsdlkfj

dont hand it over i want to see him snap

OH SHIT HE JUST JUMPED THE TABLE LSDFJSDKLFJLKDNMNXCMNJKHOIUIOEUR

oooooooooooo

OH MY GOD AGAIN SHE REALLY IS BOLD SLKDFJDSKLFJLSKDJFLKJFS

not guerrilla warfare 😭😭😭😭

do it bestie give him a concussion he deserves it

“no piece of art could ever compare to her” 🥺🥺

“remember that time you told me making out was childish” “no” i hate him 😭

THERE IT IS AGAIN “sex isnt the only way he can feel close to someone anymore” SHUT THE FUCK UP IM SOBBING

this reminds me of the dehydrated intercourse with demonrry

“don’t care, relationships are about sharing’ hes so sdjfksldjfklsjf

DO IT BESTIE KICK HIS KNEECAPS IN

suing disney for false advertisement 😭

THIS SCENE IS KILLING ME LKJFKLSJFLDSJ “just pucker your lips over it” “You have actual brain damage, dont you?” DREA I LOVE YOU KSDJFLDSKJFLKSDJ

how do those bubbles taste babe

ok drea wtf i was so happy and now this??????

“everything’s wrong” NO SHUT UP SHUT UP ITS HAPPY HOURS

not the boob privileges 😭

WAIT THIS IS FROM THE BSE MV ISNT IT “dance is just so hot rn” “depressing shades are just so hot rn”

NOT HIM GETTING ALL STUTTERY WHEN HE ASKS HER IF SHE WANTS A DRAWER 🥺

NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN THIS GENTLE WITH HIM BEFORE WTFFFFFFFF IM CRYING

“youre so fucking cute, my baby” me when i see literally any picture of him

JELLO HAS a STRONGER BACKBONE THAN THIS KSFJSDKLFJDSKLFJ

“betrayed. objectified. taken advantage of. used. “ i hate him sm 😭😭

OH MY GOD IS SHE GONNA SHAVE HIS FACE THATS SO CUTE IM

SHE ISsSSSSS IM SQUEALING

stop him worrying she’ll think it's weird and wont want to do it 🥺

“bold of you to assume id ever be convicted” PLS DREA LAKFJDKSLFJ

“the more you talk, the more appealing manslaughter sounds” I CHOKED DLSKFJDSKLFJDKSJFDSKLJ

HIM WHISTLING TO GET HER ATTENTION WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

Im sorry but its really funny to me how you wrote the sentence “wrong metal, he thinks ironically” … get it ? like IRONically lkfjdslkfj im sorry i’ll show myself out

“this boy?” what a fucking cutie i want to kick him

I forgot what a bop helpless is thanks for reminding me im gonna go listen to the entire soundtrack again-

theyre so fucking cute i hate them

so yea bascally this is the best thing ive ever read and i love you so much and my face hurts from smiling :)))

[lemonpeter]

Catch Me if You Can- chapter 4

Tags: @sherly-not-obsessed @mykale-yellow @avaxxc @alette606 @starkravingspiders @smidnite @indecisive-mess-named-me @mercury-deacon-taylor-may @seaweedbrain3000 @aoifelaufeyson @ironspiidey @ironfestivalgoopmaker @darknessyuu @john--imnotgay--watson

Warnings: little bit of steamy stuff (Harley x Peter), no cheating but Peter keeps having thoughts about Tony

**

But then, Peter’s bad mood seemed to dissipate just as soon as it appeared. 

By their next class he was back to normal, playful banter filling the room. 

“Stark, are you actually trying to finish the problem or are you contemplating your life’s decisions? Because at this point...I really can’t tell. Can you?” Peter teased, not even looking up from his paper. He scribbled down the last answer just as Tony stood up, racing to the front of the room to turn his paper in.

“Oh, I was just beating you, Parker. That’s what.” Tony grinned, leaning against the teacher’s desk. 

Their teacher, Mr. Carter, chuckled, already used to their silly rivalry. He checked the answers on Tony’s paper, humming quietly to himself. Then he looked back to the boy when he was done. “Very good. All correct.”

Peter huffed, handing him his now-completed paper next. 

As a surprise to none, his answers were all correct as well.

They sat back down, right back to bickering as the teacher stood to go over the assignment from the night before.

“Parker, did you even do the work? Or were you too busy staring into your boyfriend’s eyes?”

Peter’s face went red, but he still responded. “I was busy puking my guts out, but I still got it done. What about you? I’m sure you had to give your person of the night some attention, did you get the paper done?”

Tony snorted. He hadn’t had anyone over, but he could still play with that. “Oh, I’m multi-talented, haven’t you heard? But I’m sure you wouldn’t know anything about that, with-”

“Boys!” Mr. Carter interrupted, shaking his head. “I’m amused as much as anyone with your little game, but it can’t be going on while I’m teaching. Wouldn’t want your lack of attention to reflect on your work, hmm?”

Both shook their heads, looking back to the front and pointedly not looking at each other. They weren’t going to let anything mess them up. 

As soon as the first question was asked, both boy’s hands shot up. 

The force was enough to lift the hem of Peter’s sweater just a fraction of an inch against his stomach. But it was just enough.

Tony’s eyes drifted momentarily, catching the pale sliver of skin that peeked out. Then he was focused on the lean muscle there. Woah.

“Yes, Mr. Stark, do you have the answer?” Mr. Carter asked, calling on Tony.

Eyes still fixed on Peter’s skin, Tony couldn’t seem to find the answer he had just seconds ago. “Uh…”

The class erupted into laughter, the teacher just shaking his head. “Maybe don’t raise your hand unless you know the answer next time.”

Tony’s face burned, finally tearing his eyes away. “I-I did…”

But he found his brain a bit clouded with the image of the delicate muscles Peter fucking Parker was hiding. Damn. 

***

The end of the day came quickly. 

Peter met Harley at his locker. Maybe the other boy had upset him earlier, but he still loved him. It was just a stupid comment. Not a big deal. Peter had determined he had just overreacted. So Harley was still coming over after school.

Harley kissed his boyfriend softly when he saw him, smiling. “Hey, sugar. We’re still planning on me staying for dinner?”

Nodding, Peter tucked himself into Harley’s side. “Of course. And...I have a surprise for you.” He smiled shyly, looking at the ground. He had decided to show him what the spider’s bite had done. He wouldn’t give the full story, but he could show the physical change.

Eyebrows raised, looking interested. “Oh yeah?” The other boy grinned, shutting his locker and wrapping an arm around his boy’s waist. “And...I’m assuming Ben and May aren’t home?”

Peter shook his head, slight smile tugging at his lips. “Nope.”

“Awesome. Let’s get going.” Harley grinned, kissing Peter again. 

They started walking to the doors, leaving school. Peter was full of jittery excitement, nearly trembling. Maybe Harley had been upset with his gained weight before, but he was sure he would appreciate the cause of the gain. 

He hoped he would, at least. 

Tony was nearby, listening to them and watching just enough to not be noticed. 

He watched them go, sighing. He didn’t understand why Peter could just so easily forgive the guy that had made him cry so much earlier. 

But he figured he just didn’t really understand relationships. Why tie yourself to one person? It seemed stupid to him.

But he found himself thinking about whether or not he would want that with Peter.

Definitely not. (Yes.)

He left school as well, trying to shake off the thoughts. He didn’t want that with Peter. He told himself not to be stupid.

***

 Peter and Harley got to Peter’s building, getting into his apartment and dropping their bags near the front door.

“So, what was this surprise?” Harley asked immediately, grinning. He sat down on the couch, stretching out and holding his arms open.

Peter chuckled, crawling into his lap and kissing him softly. He hoped he wasn’t too heavy. So he shifted his weight a little, ending up straddling his boyfriend to keep the weight mostly off of him. Neither of them would complain about the new position. 

“I just have something to show you,” Peter murmured, moving his lips to Harley’s neck.

The other boy hummed, hands drifting to Peter’s waist and pushing his shirt up. He just wanted to get his hands on that creamy white, flawless skin. Then he paused, eyebrows furrowed. “What…?”

Peter blushed, hiding his face in Harley’s neck. “Surprise,” he murmured.

Pushing up the sweater, Harley’s eyes ran over the unfamiliar expanse of muscles over his boyfriend’s torso. “When...how…” He looked to Peter, obviously confused. “Pete, what is this?”

Peter pulled back, face a pale pink that made his freckles really stand out. “I told you it was a surprise.” He giggled softly, trying to hide his face again.

Harley nodded slowly, pushing the sweater the rest of the way up and pulling it over Peter’s head. His tongue darted out, wetting his lips quickly. “This...wow…” He seemed unable to form an entire thought.

Not fighting it, Peter stretched a little as if to show off a little. “You don’t need to keep your hands to yourself, y’know. You can touch…”

Harley grinned at that, hands immediately reaching out. His fingers traced over new abs, trailing over jutting hipbones and the muscled V between them. “This is incredible. God, you’re gorgeous”

Peter blushed, hips rocking forward a little. He found that he was seeming a lot more sensitive in his lower half and was reacting accordingly. And he was suddenly nervous. “Harles, maybe we should slow down a little. Maybe I’m not as ready to explore this as I thought.”

Harley looked at him, sighing softly. He didn’t move his hands. “C’mon, sweetheart. We haven't done anything in such a long time. Let’s have a little bit of fun.”

Peter bit his lip, thinking about it. That wasn’t entirely true. Peter would help Harley get off quite a bit, whether with a hand or with his mouth. It was just that the favor was never really returned. It had been so long since Harley touched him that it was believable that he had bulked up like that without him noticing. In a normal amount of time. 

He sighed, giving in a little. He wanted to feel wanted. Wanted to be touched. So maybe just this time he could give in…

Harley leaned in, kissing him softly. “Come back to me, Petey. You’re spacing out again.”

“Sorry. Sorry. Just thinking. I think...we can do a little bit. But not all the way.” It wasn’t like they had gotten that far anyways. “I think they’re going to be home soon anyways.” Who it was went unsaid. It was just a bit of a mood killer to mention parents or parental figures while feeling each other up. 

“Okay. We can make this quick.” Harley grinned. 

***

To be fair, they made it quick.

Making out, grinding on each other like the horny teenagers they were until Harley decided it wasn’t enough for him. 

So, Peter helped him, without complaint, until his stomach and abs were painted with pearly white streaks of cum.

Not his own, of course.

Then Harley claimed to be too tired to help him out, so Peter got himself off after he was cleaned up.

And just in time, too. May and Ben got home just after that.

So they sat at the dinner table, everyone silent as they picked at the pasta dish that Ben had fixed. 

May was the first to speak up, smiling a little bit at her nephew’s boyfriend. “It’s so good to see you again, Harley. It’s been a while.”

He grinned, shrugging a little. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. School just keeps me so busy. And home does too. And work.” He just had a lot going on all the time. 

But Peter knew that it wasn’t that much. Not so much that they couldn’t go on a date once in a while. Not so much that Harley couldn’t help Peter make plans for anniversaries. Yet he always seemed to be too busy. 

So the other boy stayed silent, just eating. 

May nodded. “And how is your sister doing?”

Peter tuned out the small talk, just eating. 

He found his mind drifting to Tony. What was he doing? Did he have someone over? Did he ever think about Peter aside from the rivalry?

How would Tony react to Peter’s new body? Would he be interested? More interested than Harley had been? Would he actually pay attention to Peter and what he wanted?

He sighed softly, trying to chase those thoughts away by shovelling more food into his mouth. He didn’t need to think like that. He had a boyfriend. And Tony didn’t want him like that.

So he was with Harley. Who loved him. He knew he loved him.

He hoped so, at least.

[janeofcakes]

KYFC..:Chapter 17

Hello, my friends! I’m back and I’m sorry to have kept you all waiting so long. I didn’t expect shit to get so off schedule. I’m afraid chapter 18 will have to wait as well. It won’t be anywhere near ready this weekend, so I will post it next weekend. I should even have extra time over the holiday. Yay! I’m sorry I couldn’t keep everything on track and hope you’ll forgive me. 

That’s the bad news. The good news is I don’t have cancer! YAY, FUCKING, YAY!!! The jury was out for the last couple weeks and I got the results this week. I can’t tell you how relieved I am. It’s amazing in a year where there hasn’t been a lot of good news. On another personal note, this chapter has really shaped up into one of my favorites. As special thank you to MyBreadAndButter for her fabulous guidance and patience. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I.

---

Mess up my bed with me. Kick off the covers, I’m waiting. Every word you say, I think I should write down. Don’t want to forget  come daylight. Happy to lay here, just happy to be here. I’m happy to know you....and no need to worry. That’s  wasting time. And no need to worry what’s been on my mind. It’s you.                                  --Joshua Radin, Paperweight

Sherlock’s condo is a welcome sight when he opens the door and John follows him in. They hang their coats in the front closet and head for the kitchen, though Sherlock takes a detour to the bathroom.

He flushes the toilet and turns on the faucet, resting his hands together under the warm water. Sherlock had ample time to think on the drive here. Instead of pretending to go to a hotel or his apartment, John simply followed him in his own car. Moriarty already knows he is staying here, so why bother hiding, John had said. The quiet had done Sherlock good and hopefully John as well.

Sherlock used the time to collect his thoughts. John has not explained all he learned during the dinner with Moriarty and Sherlock has many questions. He grits his teeth and grimaces. The very idea of the dinner sets him on edge. That vile little man should not be allowed anywhere near John, much less share a meal with him.

Sherlock grumbles his disapproval as he dries his hands. He glances in the mirror and everything around him slows, as a door in his mind palace he had soundly shut creeks open. He told John he loves him. He told John he loves him. His eyes are wide as they look back at him in the mirror. He had hastily shoved that bit of information into a side room almost as soon as he said it and it seemed to have disappeared. Seems it was just waiting for an opportune moment, surfacing once his guard was down. Now he relives certain parts of the confrontation in his office in full detail, each one already stored in his mind palace forever, like the kiss. The kiss right after he said it. It was no ordinary kiss. Sherlock felt John putting every ounce of himself into that kiss. He was giving himself over without doubt or hesitation. Sherlock could feel all of him and it was the most comforting, wonderful, perfect place he had ever been. Even though John immediately backed away, crumbling every bridge they had just built, Sherlock knows this man is his future.

Sherlock continues to stare at himself in the mirror as John’s words echo through his mind. It means too much. It doesn’t mean anything. It means everything. You’re too important to me. I want you in my life. The answer is staring him in the face.

John Watson loves him.

A giddy smile spreads across Sherlock’s lips and his whole face brightens as his heart swells with joy. He allows himself a gleeful, little chuckle before letting himself think it through entirely. John is most definitely in love with him, but John has not reached the same conclusion and there is no telling whether or not he will ever realize his feelings. Bill’s death dealt him a hard blow and the guilt made John shut down and shut out his emotions. It will take a long time to undo all the damage, if it can ever be undone and Sherlock has never been very patient.

Would he wait for this man? Is it worth it?

Sherlock tables his thoughts when a peculiar scent wafts into the room. His grey gaze comes back into focus and he looks absently toward the ceiling, trying to deduce it by just sniffing the air. Garlic and Parmesan. He goes to the door and opens it, poking his head out with another sniff. Sherlock, in essence, follows his nose to the kitchen where he finds John standing at the stove with two pots on the burners. Sherlock stands in the doorway and blinks as John looks at him casually, stirring the contents of one pot with a wooden spoon.

“What?” John asks quizzically.

“Are you cooking?” Sherlock replies. “I couldn’t have been ten minutes.”

“Only takes twenty,” he nods at the pots. “Since I found you at your desk, I assume you haven’t eaten.”

Sherlock opens his mouth to protest and closes it again. He presses his lips together in a frown, unable to deny it and John smirks.

“I knew it,” he says smugly. “It’ll be about ten minutes more. Why don’t you get us some glasses and wine?”

Sherlock straightens his spine petulantly and goes to the built-in wine rack near the fridge. He pairs a nice white with what he smells from the sauce. Pulling two glasses and the corkscrew, he walks to the table and places the glasses upon it. He watches John for a moment, stirring the sauce and glancing at the pasta, and catches himself sighing. Huffing in bemusement, he busies himself with twisting the tool and pulling the cork free. He pours the pale golden liquid into the glasses and positions them in front of the two chairs with care. Heading for the cabinets, he opens a drawer and grabs two sets of utensils with napkins to complete the table.

Meanwhile, John is dishing up linguine, adding sauce and plunking peas next to it. He crosses to the table and hands a plate to Sherlock.

“It looks delicious,” the taller man smiles and breathes in the dish’s aromas. 

“It is,” John grins. “Old Watson family recipe.”

“Mmm, a secret recipe?” Sherlock jokes, grinning as John remembers their first morning together as roommates. “Must be very quick and easy.”

“Clearly,” John laughs as he turns back to the stove to dish some up for himself. Sherlock places his own plate on the table and waits for John to join him before sitting. He watches the muscles in John’s back flex as he moves the ladle from the pot to his plate, drizzling sauce over the pasta. “Sorry, there’s no garlic bread. Didn’t have time for that sort of thing. I believe that’s what you Americans are so fond of.”

John laughs quietly and turns to face Sherlock, but stops before heading to the table.  

“Problem?” John asks, raising his brows.

“On the contrary,” Sherlock gestures for him to sit, “I am always on the lookout for such recipes. Will you teach me?”

“Oh, mm-mm,” John hums a negative response and shakes his head as he approaches the table and sets down his plate. “Can’t. You’d have to be a Watson.”

“I see,” Sherlock’s lips curve upwards. John is teasing him, flirting, but there is a certain tone to his voice as well. It is both serious and brimming with hope. Sherlock’s smile grows and he wants to reply, say something witty and suggestive, but nothing comes to mind. Yet the moment does not flail into awkwardness. John, beautiful, clever John, chuckles and nods at Sherlock to sit.

“Let’s eat before it gets cold,” John laughs as they slip into their chairs.

After the first bite, Sherlock raises his brows and nods his approval while John waves a dismissive hand. They eat for a few minutes in companionable silence. 

All at once, in the blink of an eye, Sherlock knows it deep down in his bones. It sweeps over him, the wave of clarity that is usually only felt at the end of one’s life. Short answer: Yes. He will wait for John until the end of time.

“John,” Sherlock shifts his weight in the chair and fixes the doctor with a disarming gaze. He would honestly rather talk about anything else, but needs must. “What exactly did you and Moriarty discuss at dinner? Leave nothing out.”

“Mostly how best to piss you off,” John answers with a puff of breath. “He wanted to…”

Sherlock cocks a brow when John stops so abruptly and moves uneasily in his seat. His eyes shift around the table and finally land on his own plate where he twirls his fork in the linguine aimlessly. Sherlock extends a hand over the small kitchen table toward John’s. It is a movement he can quickly divert if John tenses or pulls away, but he does not.

“John?” he asks lightly. John meets his eyes when their fingertips touch. He sighs again and bites his lower lip. Sliding his hand closer, he covers Sherlock’s fingers with his own and lifts his blue eyes to meet Sherlock’s.

“He wants to distract you now,” John confesses reluctantly. “Make you lose your focus and he wanted me to do it. The original plan was to scare me off.”

“Thus targeting you for murder,” Sherlock reasons, even as another part of his brain relishes the warmth of John’s fingers over his own, “which was perhaps always meant as only an attempt.”

“Right, and when I didn’t flinch at the danger…” John continues with a grimace. 

“Only became more drawn to it, I’d say,” Sherlock remarks quietly and raises a sly brow. John huffs a harsh breath.

“Junkie for the thrill, that’s me,” he winces and cocks his head. “Moriarty thought he’d recruit me instead. What’s better than using someone you trust to bring you down?”

“Another kind of poison,” Sherlock muses. He looks at John appraisingly. “He underestimated you.” 

John’s eyes soften and his brow wrinkles.

“I would never betray you,” he breathes.

John laces his fingers with Sherlock’s and curls them down, gripping long pale fingertips with his own. Sherlock’s heart skips a beat and lashes flutter, even as John’s expression hardens again.

“He wants to destroy you, Sherlock,” John tells him gravely, his eyes unwavering. “He tried to take Molly from you. Thank god that avenue is shut off now, thanks to Mycroft,” he lets out the breath he had been holding. “Remind me to bake him a pie when this is all over.”

“You bake?” Sherlock’s mouth twitches up. John’s brows rise in disbelief at the joke. “Another Watson family secret? Now you’ll have to…”

“Sherlock,” John rebukes, leaning forward and squeezing his hand earnestly. “He knows you care for me and he wants to use it. He wanted to pretend he and I were a couple. He thought it would break you, but fuck all if I take up with him under any circumstances. Why are you laughing? Sherlock!”

“I’m sorry, John,” Sherlock tries to look more serious and fails, dissolving into giggles. “It’s just you...you’re so noble.”

He chuckles around the last word, truly enjoying John’s narrowed eyes and pursed lips, but he soon sobers. He squeezes John’s fingers between his own, looking into the doctor’s eyes. 

“You would protect me at all costs, wouldn’t you?” Sherlock says solemnly.

“Damn right, I would,” the doctor replies defiantly. 

They look at one another in a strange, soulful way until they suddenly, inexplicably burst into laughter. It is completely inappropriate, but feels so good and cuts the tension in the air. In a moment, their hands part and they resume eating. Sherlock tries to concentrate on Moriarty and his plans, but finds his thoughts are drawn to John and he cannot seem to stop it from happening again and again. Taking a rather large bite of pasta, he finally surrenders to it and strolls through a long hall in the wing he has created for the man in his mind palace. As he considers the doctor and all his brilliant features, Sherlock huffs a quiet laugh. This man is able to laugh with him in the face of this danger and understands Sherlock so completely that he does not criticize his need for levity. That John would do all this and spit in Moriarty’s face with him is absolutely amazing. Sherlock must never let him go, whether he realizes his own feelings for Sherlock or not.

When Sherlock finally leaves the mind palace and comes back to himself, he finds that they have both finished eating. John is sitting forward with his elbows on the table and a wine glass in his hands. He wears a knowing smirk and Sherlock raises an inquiring brow.

“There he is again,” John chuckles softly. “You were miles away.”

“Mind palace,” Sherlock offers by way of explanation. He gestures absently toward his own head.

“I figured,” John traces a finger around the rim of his glass, skimming over the spot that meets his lips each time he takes a drink. It is the most goddamn erotic thing Sherlock has ever seen in his life. Well, discounting Baltimore, of course. “You know I can say just about anything to you when you’re in there and you have no idea.”

“Oh?” Sherlock eyes him with keen interest. “What sort of things?”

“That’s none of your business,” his lips stretch into a coy grin and he chuckles softly. “Besides, we haven’t time for that now.”

“Ah. So what is it we do have time for?” Sherlock breathes in an even tone. Oh god, they are flirting and he loves it. John’s open body language is both promising and frightening in equal measure, and the sly curl of John’s lip makes Sherlock’s head spin. Heat is creeping up the back of his neck and his cheeks are flushed. Arousal pools in his belly and he is suddenly wondering what John’s fingers would taste like as he continues to watch them skim across the rim of the wine glass. Sherlock deftly runs his tongue over his top lip, just its tip visible in the quick movement. When he opens his mouth to speak, John beats him to it and, unfortunately, what John says kills the mood entirely.

“Moriarty’s man. Moran. You know him?” John asks in a hard tone. Sherlock closes his mouth into a frown. Clearly, he and John were not at all on the same wavelength. Somehow they just took a u-turn without Sherlock even realizing it.

“Sebastian Moran, yes,” Sherlock all but sneers. “He has been at Moriarty’s side for as long as I’ve been here. In spite of that, it’s difficult to actually lay eyes on him. He likes to keep in the shadows.”

“He’s our shooter. The man who came to my flat and my office,” John states flatly, his eyes dull.

“Moran?” Sherlock perks up and leans forward in his chair. “Are you sure?”

“It only took one word to remember that voice and he said nine,” John fixes him with a gaze that is deadly serious as he slowly nods once. “I’m sure.”

“Now, that’s not a skill set I expected,” Sherlock places his elbows on the table and steeples his hands before his lips. “I was told he tried to come at me from behind after I punched Moriarty, but a killer? Definitely not what I expected.”

“Are you ready for another shock?” John asks grimly. 

Turning cool blue-grey eyes on him, Sherlock thinks he sees John shiver. He files it away for later and waits expectantly for the doctor to continue.

“Janine is working with him,” John says plainly, obviously deciding it better to just rip off the band-aid.

“What?” Sherlock gapes, completely taken aback. Also not at all what he expected.

“She was trying to trip Harry up when she got hurt,” John explains hesitantly, studying the coach carefully. “Harry was obviously being targeted by the other team and Janine used it to her advantage. 32 had nothing to do with it.” 

John pauses when Sherlock’s face darkens, his eyes full of fury. John pushes his wine glass to the side and leans forward as far as he can, fixing the other man with intense eyes. Sherlock does not shrink back, but also cannot believe his ears. It can’t be true. Not someone on his team, not one of the ladies.

“Think about it, Sherlock. Why was Janine standing or moving the way she was? Why was she watching Harry that way? Was it like a teammate or a target?” John’s words come fast into the space between them and every one pushes Sherlock closer to the boiling point. John knows what he is doing and still, he continues. “I know you have the whole thing stored in that palace of yours. Just watch it and tell me that’s what you coached her to do,” he challenges.

Fury bubbles through Sherlock’s veins, threatening to explode to the surface. He stares John down with ice cold daggers. He wants to shout. He wants to punch the doctor square in the face just like he did Moriarty. John, the same man who seemingly knows Sherlock so well, just accused one of the ladies of sabotage. It is reprehensible. Despicable. They are a team, damn it, a team! Operating as a unit, protecting one another. Caring about one another is what they do. It’s who they are. Can John even understand that? He certainly cannot come in after only a few months, presuming to know them and then accuse one of them of sabotage and endangering her teammates. It goes against everything they believe in, everything they strive for and all he has taught them.

“You bastard,” Sherlock hisses, rising from his chair. His whole body burns with anger and his eyes are blazing. John mirrors the motion and stands across from him, every muscle in his body tense and at the ready.

“Sherlock, stop,” John commands, raising both hands and facing his palms out toward the taller man. “Just listen to me. Think about it.”

“I don’t have to. Janine would never intentionally harm any teammate,” Sherlock’s voice rumbles low in his chest and sounds like the growl of a dragon. He slowly stalks around the table, his shoulders back and somehow broader than usual. He moves closer to John, uttering stinging words all the way. John visibly flinches after one in particular, but does not step away from the taller man, who is soon looming over him. “You assume that I would be so blind as to not see it.”

“Sherlock, this has no reflection on you,” John tries to explain, the hint of pleading in his voice.

“Like hell it doesn’t!” Sherlock thunders. John’s startled eyes widen and his mouth falls open as he looks up at the man towering over him. Sherlock is now right in his face and gesturing wildly as he speaks. “You think I would allow this? That I’m too ignorant of human emotion that I can’t see when someone is lying! That I would let my own sentiment get the better of me!” Pure rage simmers in his voice and courses through his veins. 

“No, Sherlock…” John is pleading now, desperate to calm Sherlock down.

“We are a team and for you to insult that bond and our dedication to one another… It’s something you couldn’t possibly understand.”

“I do understand,” John insists.

“Bullshit! You’ve never belonged to anything in your life!” Sherlock yells. He is bubbling over with fury now. If John knew anything at all, he would know the most basic element of Sherlock’s philosophy is teamwork, loyalty and trust. For even one of the ladies to help Moriarty...Moriarty, the bastard. Do whatever it takes to win. Bring everyone down, even if it’s your own teammate.

“Goddammit, Sherlock, if you’d just listen,” John growls, his own temper flaring.

“Listen to what? Your cockamamie theories?” Sherlock’s lips curl into a snarl and his eyes narrow into sharp slits. “You accepted his offer, didn’t you?”

“What?” John blinks, completely thrown off balance. It is the opportunity Sherlock has waited for. He steps up into John’s personal space and attacks with words so sharp they could leave bright red marks on John’s skin.

“You are trying to poison us. Making me question myself and all the ladies,” Sherlock’s fury burns white hot now and he rails at John. “You want me to think I’ve failed them!”

“No! That’s not how it happened,” John bites out, pushing in just as close and refusing to back down.

“Then how did it happen, John? Hmm? Tell me. Tell me how he convinced you to betray us,” Sherlock has boiled over. So consumed by anger, he barely knows what he is saying.

“Fuck off!” John shouts, shoving the taller man back a few steps, his eyes blazing with determination. “I just said I’d never betray you! What, you think I was lying?” His whole body is nearly shaking with anger and frustration. He clenches his fists and grinds his teeth as he inhales deeply to ground himself. “You don’t want to believe me. Just look back at the bout. It’s all there,” John slows his words and pokes each one into Sherlock’s chest with his finger for emphasis. “Janine. Targeted. Harry.”

Breathing heavily, Sherlock launches into a string of curses and insults, but even as he does it, a small traitorous part of his mind goes to the archives and begins playing their last bout. 

The whistle blows and the bout begins. Fast forward, forward, forward. Slow down and play. The jam begins with another whistle blow. 

There it is.

Sherlock’s mouth ceases to move mid-word and his breath stops in his throat. It feels like he has been punched in the chest and his heart has stopped beating. It’s there, right before his eyes. It had all happened so quickly and he didn’t see it then. Or maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe John is right and his own camaraderie and affection for the ladies has blinded him to reality. Sentiment. Goddamn sentiment. 

He can see it now. It’s all there and so obvious that he is a fool for missing it. There was no reason for Janine to be so close or so low. The end result would have been completely different had Harry and 32 been more evenly matched, but Harry’s solid frame and strong legs kept her from going down the way Janine had anticipated.

“I…” Sherlock croaks. His mouth opens and closes silently. He is absolutely speechless, his mind grappling to understand why she would do it.

“Moriarty told me I’m no Greek god,” John almost whispers. He peers up at the flummoxed man before him and explains hesitantly. “I only said that once when someone else could hear and there’s only one person who could have heard it.”

Sherlock blinks, his eyelids twitching as they close. John’s words sink into his skin and a new room appears in his mind palace, one that pulls memories from different bouts. He relives equipment failures and injuries, viewing them all through the lens of this new knowledge and seeing Janine’s role in many of them. 

“Oh, god,” Sherlock’s whole body deflates and he backs away from John. He closes his eyes and drops his face into waiting hands. His chest is heavy with shame and disappointment, with all he taught the ladies of loyalty, trust and teamwork, he would never have anticipated this. 

Sherlock’s stomach lurches in his body and he feels sick. He had closed his mind to the possibility, even with all the evidence at hand. He simply could not believe any of the ladies would be involved, in spite of accidents occurring no matter who they skated against and equipment failures even after it had all been checked. He ignored the common denominator of themselves, the only commonality, and that choice put all of the ladies in danger. Fucking sentiment. It always finds a way. 

“It’s not your fault,” John’s voice cuts through his thoughts.

Sherlock’s eyes fly open and he lifts his head from his hands to see that John has moved closer to him again. Firm resolve is written all over his face and his hands are clenched at his sides. Sherlock only shakes his head and sighs.

“I am their coach. What they know they learn from me,” Sherlock tells him with resignation in his tone.

“Bollocks. I know you, Sherlock, and this did not come from you,” John insists, moving even closer. His brows knitted and jaw set. He has no intention of taking any shit and Sherlock knows him well enough to know he will not relent until Sherlock sees his point of view, but he can’t see it. 

“You’ve known me a few months, John,” Sherlock says dismissively. “You don’t know me. It’s not enough time. You said so yourself.”

“And I admitted I was wrong,” John comes right into Sherlock’s personal space, his voice almost angry in its persistence. “I have watched you, all of you, at practice and bouts and in the raw. Nothing you have said or done could ever lead to this and every skater on the team would agree with me.”

Sherlock looks him in the eye and sees the passion, the determination and above it all, true honesty. John is right. Sherlock knows he is. He hates to admit it, but there really is no point in blaming himself when the fault is Janine’s. She made the choice to betray the team and it is her cross to bear. However, Sherlock did fail to see her complicity and it endangered every skater on the team. He must still accept that responsibility and whatever consequences accompany it. 

“Be that as it may,” Sherlock begins, his heart heavy and aching, “I must tell the ladies when we meet for workouts tomorrow. Then we’ll see if I hold practice or resign my position.”

“Resign?” John’s jaw drops and he stutters back a step.

“Janine may have made the decision to betray Rock City, but I failed every woman on the team by not suspecting her,” he smiles without mirth and continues bitterly. “It seems I let sentiment cloud my judgment once again.”

“What utter shit,” John huffs, his expression thunderous.

“It is my responsibility…” Sherlock tries to explain, but John cuts him off.

“Yeah, yeah, I know!” John snaps at him angrily. They share a tense gaze before John sets his jaw and steps back up into Sherlock’s personal space. He looks at the taller man with furious eyes. “Not a single one of them is going to hold you responsible and they certainly won’t want you to resign. You have a special bond, Sherlock. I’ve seen it,” his voice becomes more empathetic than angry. “You’re family and that’s not something you can break easily. They love you. And you love them. You are all stuck with each other for better or worse.”

Sherlock tilts his head, looking into John’s eyes as his own well with tears. He blinks twice quickly and two fall from one eye in rapid succession, followed by another from the other eye. John’s every word is so brilliantly true and Sherlock feels them all deep in his bones. Sentiment rushes over him and it isn’t just the love he and the ladies share, it is the pure love he feels for John too. John, who does understand him after all, who can see the team in a light that Sherlock was blind to, and whose devotion to them all is not only admirable, it is amazing. This realization is so overwhelming that Sherlock can barely keep his emotions in check. John, who knows him so well, hasn’t walked out or even gone to his room, in spite of the yelling and cursing Sherlock has heaped upon him. John Watson, his best friend, his voice of reason, his everything. How has such a man come to be in Sherlock’s life?

As if hearing his thoughts, John’s cups Sherlock’s face in his hands, his thumbs wiping the tears from his cheeks. He kisses his nose lightly as he whispers reassuring words and he is soon peppering Sherlock’s face with kisses - forehead, cheekbones, temples, even the small crinkle across the bridge of his nose. Sherlock’s arms come up around him, hands resting on John’s back. He turns his face into the kisses and just catches John’s lips with his own.

His senses are awash with John. His unique scent floods Sherlock’s nostrils. The texture of his shirt feels soft on fingers and palms. Every quiet noise and breath he makes echoes through Sherlock’s ears like a melody. The soft presses of his lips and the humidity of them parting are all warm exhilaration, sending shivers down Sherlock’s spine. He tips his tongue in to taste John’s and feels it move with his. They twirl them together languidly and explore one another.

Spurred on by Sherlock’s enthusiastic reciprocation, John opens his mouth more and tilts his head to the side, inviting Sherlock in with a sigh. The taller man angles down closer to John and deepens the kiss as fireworks explode behind his eyelids. He has never felt so happy, so complete as he does with John Watson.

Sherlock’s hands slide down to the small of John’s back and he pulls him close, pressing their bodies together tightly. John moans into Sherlock’s mouth and twines their tongues together with renewed vigor. His hands are buried in lush, brunette curls now and Sherlock’s scalp tingles with every touch of a fingertip. Sherlock loses himself to the sensation until their lips part, each gasping for breath. Inches apart, they pant in tandem. Short, shallow breaths mingling between them, curling around one another like tendrils of smoke, twisting until they join and disparate into the air all around.

Together as one forever.

Sherlock’s breath catches in his throat as the enormity of it surrounds him, not like a crashing wave, but a warm blanket. He loves John. Not just a little, but with all his heart. It’s crazy and ridiculous and stupid and absolutely wonderful.

Shit, Molls. I’ve never fallen this hard for anyone. 

His own words echoing through his mind, Sherlock gives in to new dreams as they fill his mind palace. He wants to be by John’s side for the rest of his days, whether as a lover or friend, and they will be happy. They will be more than happy and maybe they will live together and Sherlock will give John all the love in his heart. It will be perfect. John might even realize one day that he loves Sherlock too. 

“Sherlock?” John asks in a gravelly tone, “are you all right? I never know where you are when you do that.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Sherlock laughs lightly. He must have been lost in his own mind longer than it seemed, given the tone of gentle amusement in John’s voice. It makes Sherlock feel warm and happy and safe. “I’m perfect.”

Much to Sherlock’s delight, the corners of John’s mouth turn up in a soft smile. Unyielding warmth and light spread through the mind palace and, indeed, Sherlock’s whole body. Images of the future, their future, fill his thoughts and Sherlock vows to do whatever he can to help John realize that he is capable of love.

Sherlock pulls back a little, allowing some space between them so he can study John. He must plan his efforts carefully. John is in love with him, but doesn’t know and pushing the point will only push John away. No, John must come to this realization on his own, no matter how long it takes. Sherlock tilts his head and calculates as he looks at his doctor fondly. John is the person he has searched for ever since he was twelve and he and Molly made up what their husbands would be like. Even when Sherlock thought he had made his heart stop caring, it was still watching for John Watson. 

“It’s late,” Sherlock clears his throat and loosens his grip on John, “and I have a lot to do tomorrow before practice.”

“Right, right,” John lets his hands slide from Sherlock’s shoulders and down his arms. “I should get to bed too. Didn’t sleep a wink last night with the travel and Janine and Moriarty and all.”

John clears his throat and steps back, giving his nape an absent scratch. His other hand lands on his own hip and he continues speaking as he raises his brows.

“And I have a lot to do tomorrow too,” he looks disconcerted, like his To Do list just got longer. Whatever is on it, Sherlock intends to make sure John knows what number one will be.

“The first of which is informing Greg that you are not resigning,” he prompts decisively, barely containing the joy that fills every inch of his being. 

“Yeah,” John smiles brilliantly. “Yeah, it is.”

Sherlock says nothing and only nods. He does not trust himself to speak. His heart has just burst in his chest for the joy he feels. Instead, he grins like an idiot with no thought as to how much of a love-sick teen he looks. It is all he can do to keep his knees from buckling. John Watson is his sun, his conductor of light, his Juliette. Wait. What? What the hell is he thinking?

“G’night, Sherlock,” John says from the door. Sherlock snaps out of his haze and resolves to find out how John can move so quietly.

“Yes, good night, John,” Sherlock replies softly. 

He is at the sink moments later with a plate and glass in his hands. Sherlock doesn’t remember picking them up or walking here. In fact, he still feels a bit like he’s flying, but does seem to be coming back down to earth. He places the dishes in the sink, flicks on the taps and reaches for the bottle of dish soap, squirting a little onto the scrubbing sponge.

John suddenly appears at his side with the other dishes as Sherlock scrubs sauce off the plate in his hands. Once the plate is clean, he places it in the drying rack and turns to face John. Without a word, he takes the dishes from John’s hands, their fingers brushing gently. There’s that annoying flip in his stomach again. Oddly enough, it doesn’t bother him much anymore. In a way, he almost likes it.

“You aren’t going to bed?” Sherlock murmurs, looking at those blue eyes. 

“Want help with the washing up?” John asks in answer to Sherlock’s question.

Sherlock hesitates as the fog in his head finally clears. He frowns at John and huffs quietly in frustration. Love seems to have either dropped his I.Q. a few points or decreased his cognitive abilities. Neither is acceptable and all is due to the man standing before him now. This charming and adorably sexy man in his kitchen.

“No,” Sherlock answers, a small smile playing at his lips in spite of himself. He can’t be angry about loving John. He was meant for him. Sherlock grins mischievously and turns back to the sink, placing the dishes in its basin and picking up the sponge again. 

“It’s no trouble,” John states in a light tone. 

“It’s fine,” Sherlock tells him, running water over the plate and scrubbing. “It won’t take long.”

“But Sherlock…” John protests, puffing out his chest.

“You made dinner,” Sherlock insists, his voice taking on a whining quality. “Look, I’m almost done. There’s no need.”

When John does not move or respond, Sherlock looks at him more carefully. He seems surprised and...disappointed? Shit.

“Oh, okay,” John mutters in a discouraged tone. He hangs his head in resignation as he turns to leave.

“John…” Sherlock begins, but John interrupts him.

“I’ll see you in the morning then,” John raises his head, but does not meet Sherlock’s eyes. He is about to speak again to stop John from leaving, a wet hand outstretched, but John is gone.

Shit.

***

“He was asking to help with the dishes, but he really just wanted to spend more time with me and I just said no! And after that kiss…” Sherlock slaps a hand to his forehead as he speaks non-stop to his phone. Molly Hooper stares back at him from her bedroom where she had been sleeping before he called. “God, I’m such an idiot. What the hell was I thinking?”

As soon as he finished with the dishes, he snuck into the hall and stealthily slipped past John’s room. Once he had passed it, he ran straight to his own room and FaceTimed Molly. Her initial response had been cursing the late hour and that is all she has been able to say. Sherlock dove right in without taking a breath, or even saying hello and Molly hasn’t gotten a word edgewise.

“S’right. I’m sure he’s packing his bags right now,” she snarks and pushes her messy hair off her face.

“Molly!” Sherlock nearly shouts and then hushes himself, looking around his room and toward the door in hopes that John did not hear.

“What do you want me to say?” she laughs as Sherlock presses his lips into a tight frown and furrows his brow until he wears a proper pout. Molly takes in his expression and cocks a brow as she rolls her eyes. “Sherlock, I got to know John pretty well while I was in the hospital and I can tell you right now that you being an idiot will not send him packing.”

“It’s not that simple, Molly,” Sherlock insists in a hushed tone.

“He’s probably in his room laughing his ass off right now,” Molly ignores his pleas.

“It just hits me sometimes and it’s like my I.Q. drops a few points,” Sherlock is beginning to sound desperate, even to his own ears.

“Well, I’m sure it’s not that bad,” Molly finally acknowledges his words, looking at him with a serious gaze. He meets her eyes and they both start laughing.

“All right, no, it’s not that bad,” Sherlock tries to catch his breath. “It just seems like it. God, I can do really stupid things sometimes.”

“It’s called being in love,” Molly chuckles. “You’ve discovered a whole new world. Oh my god,” she looks at him with wide eyes and covers her mouth with her hand. Sherlock gives her a questioning frown. “It’s like a Disney movie,” she finishes before bursting out in hysterical laughter. Molly falls over backward onto her bed, dropping her phone as she goes so all Sherlock can see is her lavender bedspread.

“Molly. Molly!” he cries and then cringes, looking to the door again. When his eyes are back on the phone, he whispers urgently. “Molly!”

“Sorry! Sorry,” the image on Sherlock’s phone shakes furiously and then Molly’s face comes back into view. “I’m sorry.”

“Molly, this is serious,” Sherlock’s voice is agitated and he is hunched close to his phone.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry,” Molly says again, still smiling but making a visible effort to become more serious again.

“This is different, Molls,” Sherlock huffs petulantly. “I loved Victor and never had this problem. Not once.”

“Ding, ding, ding! The genius can be taught!” Molly waves a hand in the air like she is ringing a bell and Sherlock tries to shush her boisterous declaration. “You’re absolutely right. It’s not the same in any way, shape or form.”

“Molly! Be serious!” Sherlock snaps in a hoarse whisper.

“Okay, okay,” she looks away with her eyes and takes a breath, collecting her thoughts before she continues. When her brown eyes find Sherlock again, they are most sincere. “Can you honestly tell me you felt this way about Victor? Ever?”

“No,” Sherlock doesn’t even have to think. There is only one answer.

“Exactly,” Molly replies solemnly. “True love is a powerful thing. It can make even the smartest people do stupid things. Cut yourself some slack. Wait, no,” she holds out a hand, realization dawning. “It’s not a Disney movie. What is it?”

“Molly,” Sherlock sighs.

“Oh my god!” she gasps and stares with wide eyes, her hand slapping the pillow sitting on the bed next to her. “It’s The Princess Bride!”

“Ah, god. That’s not the worst of it,” Sherlock bites his lip, his forehead wrinkling of its own volition. He is taken aback by the sudden silence in the room and turns his gaze to the phone to see Molly staring back with wide eyes. She leans in close, her face deadly serious once again.

“Sherlock,” her voice is just to the left of a scold, “what did you do?”

Sherlock jumps where he stands at the quiet knock on his door. His breath catches in his throat and he gapes at the door in horror. He opens and closes his mouth twice, unable to make a sound. 

“Sherlock,” Molly’s voice whispers, “what was that? What’s going on?”

“Sorry, Molls, gotta go,” he ends the call without even looking at the phone. Pressing his lips together and glancing to the left, the right, he inhales a fortifying breath and strides to the door. When he opens it, John is just raising his hand to knock again. The doctor stands frozen and wide-eyed before schooling his expression.

“Sorry. Sorry, I wasn’t sure you were here. I thought maybe the kitchen, but thought I’d check here first. Oh, shit. You weren’t asleep? Did I wake you?” John says it all in a steady stream, his hand still hovering in the air. The dramatic series of changes in John’s expression nearly set Sherlock to giggling.

“No,” he replies too quickly, trying to cover his mirth. “No, I wasn’t asleep. I was just…” Reliving the portion of our evening where I rebuked your romantic efforts, not realizing what they were, of course, but that hardly helps, and telling Molly what an idiot I am. “Do you need something? An extra blanket or…”

“No, I don’t need anything. I’m fine,” John tips his chin down a bit and brings his raised hand to the nape of his neck. He puffs out an embarrassed breath and looks up at Sherlock.

“What is it, John?” Sherlock asks in his low baritone. He can see John shiver as he looks at him and takes a step closer. John swallows audibly.

“I know it’s late,” John begins, taking a shallow step into the room, drawing closer to the coach. The proximity makes Sherlock’s head swim with possibility and his hands suddenly tingle with the memory of touching John. Soft, warm skin under his fingertips only two nights ago and he wants it again. Now. Does John? His mind begs please, please, please.

“I know you want to confront Janine and tell the ladies about her role in the whole thing, but is that the best idea right now?” John says instead, his voice higher than usual and his brows raising with the suggestion.

“What?” Sherlock frowns, his brow knitting in confusion. That is not what he was hoping for. He shifts his weight and puts his hands on his hips, his brain unwilling to cooperate.

“Yeah, I know, but I was thinking…” John props his hand against the door frame. “Can I come in? I mean, this may not take long to explain, but if I could just come in?”

“Of course, of course,” Sherlock declares, stepping aside and ushering him in. “Please.”

“Thanks,” John passes through. Sherlock closes the door and gestures for John to follow him to the padded bench at the foot of his wide bed. John continues as they sit, looking a bit more comfortable. “This is going to sound a bit like a comedy routine at first, but there is a point.”

They both fold one leg in front of them so they are turned to face each other. Their knees touch when they are both settled and Sherlock’s stomach flips. The touch takes him right back to Baltimore. The warmth of John’s skin, his hot mouth on Sherlock’s body, and his eyes so full of love. Love. If only John could have seen it himself. If only he knew.

“If we tell Janine we know she’s in on it,” John’s voice has Sherlock tabling his thoughts and trying to concentrate on the issue at hand, “she’ll tell Moriarty and then he’ll know that we know he’s responsible.”

John stops to let it sink in. He watches Sherlock with an intense gaze and wets his lips before going on.

“His game plan will change if he doesn’t think she’s useful anymore. I don’t know exactly what that would mean, but it could put her in danger. Whatever she’s done, she doesn’t deserve that,” John finishes solemnly, leaning forward ever so slightly. Sherlock takes a minute or two to contemplate John’s words, pressing his lips together in thought.

“Agreed,” Sherlock says grimly.

“But that’s only the tip of the iceberg,” John nods. “If we tell the team about her, it not only increases the danger to her, it endangers all of them as well.”

“Because they will know it’s Moriarty,” Sherlock adds in a dubious tone. “They would have no proof of his direct involvement and it is unlikely he would take it to such an extreme level, but…”

He stops before the words come out. They taste like poison on his tongue and he winces as he completes the thought. “Janine would be an even larger liability that could be easily removed.”

“Exactly,” John searches his eyes with a hint of desperation in his own. “I know you feel responsible. You’re not, but I understand the desire to come clean. It’s very admirable.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” Sherlock says quietly, straightening his spine.

“It is, but not right now,” John leans forward a fraction and inhales deeply, his eyes sharp and determined. “Listen to me, Sherlock. Think about this.”

Sherlock bites his lip and stares down at the dip in John’s skin that lives just between his clavicles. He rolls everything John has said around in his mind palace, closing his eyes to consider the logic of it. It is a difficult plan to dispute.

“We wait this out,” Sherlock gives a considered nod when he opens his eyes. “Keep everyone as safe as possible and deal with the consequences later.” He pauses to look at John gravely. “I cannot let any of them be harmed.”

“Won’t happen,” John takes Sherlock’s hands in his own and shakes his head. “Not on my watch. We will take this bastard down.”

God, Sherlock is full to bursting with love for this man. His hands are warm and hold Sherlock’s with such care, even as he pledges to thoroughly kick Moriarty’s ass. His eyes are so affectionate and calm, but reflect an undercurrent of unwavering strength. John Watson is a wonder. A man of fascinating dichotomies and it is absolutely delicious. 

Sherlock takes a deep breath and tries to suppress a shiver as a feeling blooms in his chest and spreads through his body; every toe, the tip of every finger, the very tips of his ears. He squeezes John’s hands, the corners of his mouth turning up and his grey eyes sparkling. His lips part just slightly as the feeling wells inside of him. He wants to say something. He should say something, but every word that comes to mind seems inadequate. Still, he tries. Instead of something eloquent or even smart, he utters the most trite nonsense possible.

“Thank you.”

Thank you??

It’s all Sherlock can do not to face palm and it must show on his face because John cannot stifle a chuckle. Sherlock glares, but it does not last when the most dazzling smile takes over John’s features and he beams at Sherlock with the full light of the sun. His conductor of light.

“You’re welcome,” John says simply.

Overcome with emotion, Sherlock yanks his hands from John’s and lurches forward. In an instant, he is holding the doctor’s shoulders and pressing their lips together in a chaste but passionate kiss. John still wears the same smile when Sherlock pulls back.

“Okay. That’s settled then,” John laughs, gently shifting Sherlock’s hands from his shoulders and back to their laps. “We’d best get to sleep, yeah?”

“Right, and plan our next move against Moriarty tomorrow evening,” Sherlock says after a moment. “Yes, let’s order Chinese and meet in my office.”

“Perfect,” John rises from the bench. “I’ll see you in the morning then. Let’s drive together, shall we?”

“Fine,” Sherlock replies.

“Fine,” John smiles and starts to walk away.

“John!” Sherlock jumps up from the bench and splutters at John’s back. John stops immediately and turns to face him halfway to the door. 

Sherlock does not want him to go and it is completely irrational. He could play it off as being worried for John’s safety, but John would never believe it. Of course he might play along and not say anything. Sherlock could claim he is worried for his own safety, but that is even more stupid. John is only here now because of Sherlock’s conviction that Moriarty will not harm him. John would leave the condo in seconds if Sherlock said he was worried about himself. No. 

Sherlock has to make something up and now because he has been quiet for too long again. His eyes have not left John’s face and the doctor‘s brow has begun to furrow.

“Don’t go, please. I...I don’t want you to go,” Sherlock blurts.

Not what he was planning to say at all. He blinks once, taken aback by his own honesty. John looks surprised too, like he could see Sherlock’s every thought play out on his face and expected him to lie. Readying himself for John’s refusal, Sherlock clenches his jaw and straightens his spine. He shifts his gaze to one of indifference and simply waits for John to say no. John watches him with raised brows for a long, agonizing moment.

“Uh,” John finally says, one side of his mouth quirking up. “You want me to sleep...in your bed? With you?”

“Really, John, I would have thought that was rather obvious,” Sherlock rolls his eyes before he can stop himself.

“Yeah,” John smiles wide, his face open. “I guess it is.”

“Good,” Sherlock goes to a chest of drawers and grabs some pajamas from the second drawer. “I’ll just change.”

“Right,” John replies as Sherlock disappears into the en suite. 

Sherlock quickly uses the toilet and changes into long silk pajama pants with a Red Wings tee. It was part of a promotional partnership a few years ago. The two teams do not actually interact much and Sherlock might not have kept the shirt, but it is so soft and really the perfect thing to sleep in.

Sherlock starts humming as he brushes his teeth. He does not even realize he is doing it until he spits and melodically whispers the words to his own reflection in the mirror.

“But you’re here in my heart. So who can stop me if I decide that you’re my destiny?”

He swallows the chorus when he puts the toothbrush back in his mouth and continues to clean his teeth. He sways just a bit and hums through the rest of the song before he finally rinses his mouth and dries his lips with a hand towel. It has been at least twenty minutes and John has to be exhausted from the travel and stress. He has probably fallen asleep already left in the bedroom to his own devices. Sherlock feels a twinge of disappointment at the prospect, although he is not entirely sure why. While he has been anxious to see John since leaving Baltimore yesterday morning, he does not necessarily have expectations for this first night in his bed. Frankly, he is the happiest he’s been all day just because John said yes. True, sitting up with John and talking into the wee hours would be fantastic, a dream, but he would be just as happy watching John sleep in his arms. If that isn’t too creepy. Is that creepy?

Sherlock resolves to ask John about his feelings on observation during slumber as he steps out of the bathroom door. He expects to see John out cold on the bed, but John is not sleeping. He isn’t even on the bed. He is, in fact, sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed with a book in his hands. Sherlock approaches slowly, watching as John closes the book and hops to his feet. He lifts the book and sort of gestures with it, giving Sherlock a sheepish look.

“Sorry. I saw it on the night table,” John shrugs and offers it to the taller man. “I was curious.”

“And?” Sherlock cocks a brow.

“It’s good. I’d definitely like to finish it,” John replies.

“Well, it’s lucky you’re living with me, isn’t it?” Sherlock flashes a dashing smile and takes the book by its spine. John grins back.

“It is, yeah,” he answers.

Sherlock lets out a soft laugh, tilting his chin down to look at the cover of the book. The face of Dame Judy Dench gazes back at him. He laughs almost to himself and raises his eyes to John.

“I thought sure you would be asleep by now. You must be exhausted,” Sherlock tells him.

“Oh, I am,” John nods personably. He gestures toward the bed. “Which side do you sleep on? I didn’t like to impose.”

“I invited you,” Sherlock says in an even tone, trying not to sound too excited.

“Yeah, to share your bed not commandeer it,” John chuckles. Sherlock ducks his head at the sound that is music to his ears.

“You sleep on the left,” Sherlock states definitively. John huffs a laugh and rests his hands on his own hips where his pajama pants ride low. The dark blue t-shirt he wears hugs every curve and just a hint of skin peeks out from between it and his pants.

“Yeah,” John tilts his head to the side, a small smile on his face. He is adorable and so damn hot all at once. Sherlock’s mouth runs dry.

“Perfect,” he clears his throat. “I prefer the right.”

“Mm-hm,” John hums and then jokes. “I am far from perfect, Sherlock.”

“I know that, John. Trust me,” the coach winks and then continues, feigning seriousness. “We’re good together. In spite of our flaws, I mean.”

He takes a detour on his way to the bed to turn off the overhead light as John switches on one of the bedside lamps. When he reaches the right side of the king-sized bed, John is looking at him with a knowing smirk.

“You little shit,” John scolds.

Sherlock’s eyes sparkle and he does not respond. John inhales slowly and releases it, just as measured. The two men gaze at one another in silence. Watching, searching, understanding. It all washes over Sherlock like a wave and he feels free. He can only assume John feels it too based upon his serene expression and the glow of his eyes. 

“To bed?” John breaks the silence.

“To bed,” Sherlock answers.

They take one last look at each other across the bed, both wearing sheepish grins, and slip under the covers. Sherlock settles with his arms under the blankets while John’s are over the covers. John turns to look at Sherlock.

“Ready?” he asks with raised brows. He angles his head toward the lamp on his side. 

“You?” Sherlock asks as he nods.

John nods with a grin and they turn off the lamps. With only moonlight from the windows to light the room, Sherlock waits for his eyes to adjust. Even when they have, he just stares at the ceiling and does not look at the man in his bed while he screws up the courage to speak. He is being ridiculous. They have slept together in a bed before. There is no reason to be so nervous. He takes a fortifying breath.

“John?” he asks quietly into the dark room. John does not answer. Perhaps he is asleep, dozed off as soon as he closed his eyes.

“Yeah?” comes the doctor’s voice.

Maybe not.

“What are your thoughts on sleeping?” Sherlock says hesitantly.

“Well, I like sleeping and let’s face it, we all need it,” John reasons, sounding more and more sleepy.

“And observation?” Sherlock ventures hesitantly.

“What?” John’s voice is laced with confusion.

“While one is asleep,” Sherlock finishes. 

“You’ve lost me, Sherlock. But for the record, you can’t watch things while you’re asleep,” John laughs tiredly and gestures with one hand.

“No, not me. You,” Sherlock rolls his eyes, addressing John like he is an idiot. “Watching you!”

“Hang on,” John turns on his side to face Sherlock, propping up on one elbow. “Are you saying you want to watch me sleep?”

“No,” Sherlock says defensively, turning to face John. “Not all the time.” They are at least two feet apart, but Sherlock can still see him clearly by the moonlight. “Just...sometimes.”

Sherlock cringes. He sounds like a stalker. It is creepy. Wanting to watch John sleep is creepy and Sherlock is a complete weirdo. Although, John does not appear to be alarmed. In fact, he looks genuinely amused. Sherlock’s brow creases and he huffs indignantly.

“Never mind,” he mumbles.

“No, no, I won’t never mind,” John laughs while Sherlock harrumphs. “I think it’s cute.”

Sherlock glares even as John inches closer.

“I am not cute,” Sherlock snarls.

“And rather endearing,” John continues. 

Sherlock huffs in exasperation and looks away, but he can see John shimmy closer in the corner of his eye. A breath catches in his throat at the touch of John’s hand on his bicep, fingertips under his sleeve. His fingers are hot on Sherlock’s cool skin, smooth and calming. The touch spreads through and warms his whole body.

“You can watch me sleep anytime you want,” John whispers and the words send a shockwave up Sherlock’s spine. “As long as you promise to wake me if I start snoring.”

“All right,” Sherlock agrees with a snort. He meets John’s soft eyes. “I promise.”

John smiles in response and moves his hand to Sherlock’s chest. He exhales long and slow, perfectly content. In one fluid motion, Sherlock lifts his arm to encircle John’s torso and John rests his head on Sherlock’s pectoral. Sherlock wishes he had not put a shirt on at all so he could feel John’s cheek against his bare skin. They both sigh at once.

“G’night, Sherlock.”

“Goodnight, John.”

---

Goddamn if they aren’t the sweetest boys in all the world. Personally, I love the way this one starts. Sherlock’s stunned in the bathroom thinking, “I told John I love him. I told John I love him.” and then immediately segues into “John loves me. John loves me.” But forever the problem, John doesn’t know it yet. C’est la vie. ... My ass. When is John going to figure it out? Come on, man! Those tingly, weird feelings you’re feeling are love. Love. Get with the program. 

Fear not, friends, he’ll get there. Even-tu-ally. Please be patient with me and for the next chapter. I promise I’ll get things back on schedule. Thank you all for your love and support. I’ll see you soon. Jane

@zentris @221b-carefulwhatyouwishfor @tooolforthissh--stuff @shana-movershaker @melmey-fanfics @louise175dk @technicallywiseoncns @underestimatemethatwillbefun @jhamishw @weirdlittlegoofball @superwholockpotterincamelot @superwholocklmt @ladidragonuniverse @kittenmadnessandtea @srebrnafh @welcometomyharddrive @annecumberbatch @kingdomofbrokenhearts @philliphooper @whodwantmeasaflatmate @gloriascott93 @vvaticancameoss @cow-mow @echosilverwolf @spazzz32 @absentmindedsstuff @swissmissing @shuukichan @maeliandmyself @wtgilsa  @red-pen-revolution @britishaccentfan @dischorde @plasticstrawsmuggler @youknowyougrow @one-thousand-splendid-stars @irina12maria

[allaroundcringey]

Dependency ~ Sherlock Holmes

Chapter 2 ~ Eavesdropping

Pairing : Sherlock x Female Reader

Summary : After a few years John Watson was left no choice but to call his old school mate Amelia Harold. The matter of the call you ask? Sherlock's drug problem. What started out as a simple phone call to help out his friend turned out to be so much more: it gave Amelia Harold a chance to find out who deemed her father guilty of murder. Full of friendship, truth, heartbreak, suspense, and love this story showcases what matters most in life: your friends and family.

Warnings : mention of drug abuse, addiction, and emotional abuse in later chapters

A/N : Just want to pop in and say that I plan on making a master list for this series once I get a few more chapters posted! Also- I think my schedule for posting will be every Sunday since a weeks worth of time ensures I can put out good chapters. If I feel the compulsion to post earlier than that then I will. Enjoy chapter 2!

***I do not own any of these characters, plot ideas, and lines taken directly from the show (though there are only a few of those) anything pertaining to Amelia is my original work.***

Both scattered across the ground due to the velocity of the explosion, Amelia and Sherlock quickly got themselves back together enough to stand up again. Sherlock looking nonchalant, Amelia was forced to question his odd behavior after such an event.

"Does this stuff just... normally happen around here?"

"Yes. Now if you would show yourself out that would be lovely." Sherlock said, flipping his night gown with his hand and heading towards his room. Before he could make it far Amelia stuck out her hand to stop him from going any farther.

"I'll leave when I please. And you'll be polite to me since I am company of John's. And I don't take bullshit from anyone especially from Sherlock Holmes. Understand?"

With a silent nod and look of defeat Sherlock sat back in his chair. Amelia could have left when he told her to since she had no reason to stay but she could not stand Sherlock being rude to her again. The main thought she held was how John was able to put up with such a creature.

In an attempt to clear the silence, Amelia spoke up. Sherlock clearly had the same idea since he started to speak at the same time. With an awkward stare, Sherlock spoke up again.

"Why are you so sensitive about your father?" He said bluntly. In truth he didn't mean for it to sound condescending but like many other things he'd said, especially that night, it did.

"How about you learn to shut your mouth and understand that not everyone is an open book. You definitely aren't." Amelia replied with a scoff.

"I only meant to make conversation." Sherlock snapped. Amelia had had a big enough dose of Sherlock for the night (if not a lifetime) and decided to see herself off. Wondering whether she should say goodbye or simply leave she decided on the latter to avoid more tension.

On her way down the stairs making her way around the corner, she caught a glimpse of Sherlock from where he stood near the window. He looked almost lonely. No, he definitely looked lonely. Contemplating on if she should go back up there he caught her staring and immediately put on a facade and slammed the door shut.

~

Today being a day off work, Amelia made her way straight to 221B that morning. She peculiarly found that this morning had been the easiest for her to awake since the traumatic events in her early adulthood. Not wanting to acknowledge the sudden, and frankly scary, change she blocked out the thoughts by what today could hold.

Hopefully John could finally have a moment to sit down with her and explain what he had phoned her for in the first place. What on Earth could Sherlock possibly need from her?

Hailing a cab outside her flat she knew that soon enough she would find out.

~

Pushing her way past the emergency crew outside 221B, Amelia found herself walking up the steps almost as if she had been there many times before. 221B had that affect on people.

When she arrived to the sitting room she found a new face sitting in John's chair. Sherlock of course was sitting in his own chair and John was standing near the desk.

"Hi, did I walk in on something? I'll come back later if you'd like." Amelia spoke directly to John, avoiding the curious gaze the new man cast upon her.

"No it is totally fine. I was just wrapping up anyway. Mycroft Holmes, pleased to meet you." Amelia could tell the smile he put on was fake, and he simply just wanted to get on with the matters that brought him there.

"Amelia Harlod."

"Are you John's girlfriend?" Mycroft asked which received a howl of laughter from John and Amelia.

"Oh my goodness you think I would want to be with this lad?" Amelia laughed, pointing her thumb at John, gasping for breath.

"Mycroft we've been friends since primary school only having recently reconnected again. Nothing of the relationship sorts." John explained so Mycroft could understand.

"Oh. Sorry to imply anything." Somewhat embarrassed, although trying to hide it the best he could, Mycroft turned back to Sherlock. "Maybe you can get through to him John. Or even possibly you Ms. Harold. Sherlock I don't think you understand how urgent this case is."

Tuning out since she felt it wasn't her place to listen, Amelia looked on at the damage that was caused to the flat due to last nights events. All of the previously skewed decorations were truly thrown all over the place now. She questioned whether it was safe to be in the flat at the moment but decided either way it didn't matter. She would have gone in no matter the answer.

Drawn away from her investigation of sorts, she found that Mycroft was getting into the details of the case he wanted Sherlock to take.

"Andrew West was found dead on the train tracks this morning." He stated.

"Tried to kill himself?" John questioned, even though that seemed self explanatory.

"Seems like the ovbious solution but no. West was believed to have held the plans for a missile defense system that are on a memory stick. These are now missing."

"That's not very clever."

"Assuming they have any brain's, it's not the only copy." Amelia added into the conversation, with a look of approval from Mycroft.

"Yes. Indeed that is the case." Turning his attention from John and Amelia he faced Sherlock. "You need to find these plans brother. Don't make me order you."

"I'd like to see you attempt that." Sherlock answered with an eye roll.

"Think on it." Mycroft insisted, that seeming to be his goodbye to his brother. Walking towards John he shook his hand and said his departures to him.

"Goodbye Ms. Harold it was nice to meet you. I hope I'll be seeing more of you." Mycroft added then promptly left the flat.

Annoyingly Sherlock played an ear splitting tune on his violin to match Mycroft leaving.

As soon as Mycroft was out of ear shot John started in on Sherlock. "Why did you tell him you've been busy? Your schedule is completely free to the point it's making you go mad."

"Why not?"

"So it's a rivalry between you two, a sibling rivalry? I wouldn't put it past you." Amelia thought out loud.

"You've known me for a day don't make assumptions." Sherpock answered, dragging the 'day.'

The ringing of Sherlock's phone started cutting off the argument that was bound to happen if the conversation lingered. He immediately picked it up and extanged a few words with whoever was on the other side.

"Ah. How could I say no." He hung up the phone and got up from where he was sitting to leave the flat. "Lestrade called to summon me. Are you coming John?"

"Yeah I guess so." John stuttered throwing a questioning look towards Amelia not sure what to do.

"Oh don't stand there looking like a lost puppy. Come along if you must." Sherlock said frustrated. Amelia wanting to say no just to retaliate but realizing she had no other plans for the day was forced to listen to him, and she followed the consulting detective and blogger out the door.

~

Not returning to the flat until late that night, the three of them were simply exhausted. Sherlock didn't bother to make conversation before heading straight into his room and closing the door behind him. Not that he would have in the first place. Finally having a moment of silence to speak, Amelia and John sat in the sitting room. Sherlock not being there to reprimand her, Amelia sat in his chair.

"I'm sorry it's taken so long to sit down together." John sighed as he sank into his chair.

"Nothing to worry about. I actually had a bit of fun today." Shifting in the chair so her elbows rested on her knees she looked directly at John. "I know you wouldn't have phoned me without a purpose. Not to just catch up."

"I'm sorry for that too. I know I should have called earlier not just when I needed you. I hope you can forgive me because truly I am so glad we are talking again."

"John of course I forgive you. It's my nature to not stay mad at anyone, you know that. Now tell me what you need because I'm getting impatient." Amelia replied with a light laugh.

"It's not widely known to the public but Sherlock tends to not have the healthiest of coping mechanism. Particularly when he's bored."

"Like he was yesterday."

"Yes, exactly. I know that when things with your father went down," Amelia took a sharp inhale at the mention of him as John continued on, "you experienced some of the same things. To put it bluntly I was wondering if you could help Sherlock get over his drug addiction. He says he can easily do it on his own and all other sorts of excuses but something that complicated can't be done by yourself. I'm sure you would understand."

"You would understand also. You were always there for me." Amelia commented with a sad smile, reminiscing on the past.

"I know it's a lot to ask and if you think it will be triggering in any way-" before John could finish Amelia cut him off.

"Even if it is I know how to handle myself. And I can see that you clearly care for Sherlock a lot. And although I don't want to admit it, I see why you care. Of course I'll help in anyway possible."

"Amelia you never cease to amaze me. Thank you again." John said as he got up to hug Amelia. Only staying in the hug for a moment, they released each other when John spoke up once again.

"I know you don't love talking about it but you do know if you need someone to talk to about anything pertaining to your father you know you can come to me. Right?"

"Yes John. I appreciate it." Amelia sighed, which then turned into a yawn.

"You can stay here tonight if you'd like since it's late. Cabs don't usually circle around here at this hour."

"That would be lovely John."

"You can have my bed if you'd like." John offered gesturing towards the upstairs bedroom.

"Well now, that would just be confirming Mycroft's suspicions John! The couch is just fine in all seriousness. Now get to bed." Amelia lightly slapped John across the shoulder in an attempt to shoo him off. After an extange of goodnights, John was off to his bed.

Alone again, Amelia sat on the couch and rubbed her face with her hands. After all these years it was still hard to openly talk about her father. Not wanting to think about him longer she gingerly laid down on the couch, calling it a night.

~

After he heard the final noises of the couch moving, Sherlock sat up from where he was on the floor next to his door with a hard look on his face. Eavesdropping was a bad habit of his. After learning the new information on Amelia and that her intentions were truly good he felt remorse for treating her rudely. He wasn't sure how to make up for his actions. In typical Sherlock fashion he didn't feel comfortable or right saying sorry. Deciding to sleep on it, Sherlock laid down in his bed. Alone again.

[galactic-academia]

Can I have #37 ‘ you look like you need a hug’ with Sherlock please ? 😍😘

Oooh yes! With a great pleasure, thank you for asking

Rating: G

Category: F/M

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/Female Reader

Tags: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Swearing, Fluff, Love Confession, First Kiss, Someone Explains His Life To John, Cute Sherlock, Request, Humor.

Words: 1289

Notes: I’m not a native, please, forgive my mistakes. Gif is not mine. I hope you will enjoy it

Masterpost | Ask | Guidelines | Sherlock (BBC) Masterlist

Since Y/N had moved to 221B Baker Street – she had taken John’s old room – she had been used to hear all sorts of weird noises, day and night, from the soothing violin playing to the shoots in the wall, from Mrs. Hudson’s cute chit-chat to the loud “BORED!”, from Lestrade’s well known footsteps to various “victim’s” reactions. She was used to them, they were part of her life, as the crazy genius with who she shared the flat. However, there was one thing Y/N had never been able to be used and would certainly never be: John yelling horrors at Sherlock.

It had been going for hours, now. It all began with a dark story about John’s numerous dates. How Sherlock had “f*cked it all with his bloody case”. Nothing to be upset with so far. Then, Y/N had heard him yelling about Sherlock’s fake death. Then his drug addiction. And finally, Mary. That wasn’t enough. That was the hell too much. With a very calm face hiding a boiling rage, Y/N went down the stairs to enter the living room. Quietly. John only noticed her presence when Sherlock looked up at her and stopped yelling already.

“I’m sorry Y/N, did I wake you?”

Still falsely quiet, Y/N took a few steps to stand between the two man and answer dryly

“No, absolutely not, it’s only 3am, why should I be sleeping? Anyway, I couldn’t even fall asleep with all the mess you’re making.”

John was startled by her answer. Y/N had never been rude with him. Upset by her reaction, he tried to justify himself.

“I’m really sorry to disturb you, but I have to do something, didn’t I? I can’t let him mess with everybody without…”

His rambling had been cut by Y/N who had turned to Sherlock; crouching in front of him, she dived into his eyes. He looks so sad, so tired. So guilty. It broke Y/N’s heart in billion pieces. Tight throat, she tenderly said

“You look like you need a hug.”

But John wasn’t done and seeing Y/N on Sherlock’s side obviously made him loose the little sanity that remained to him.

“Really? Are you f*cking kidding me? You want to hug that bastard? Do you know who he is? Do you even know what he has done? No, you can’t, otherwise you wouldn’t want to cuddle with that selfish bloody sociopath, with this piece of…”

“Shut. The. F*ck. Up.”

Y/N hadn’t screamed but her voice had slammed like a whiplash in the room. Agape, the Doctor watched the young woman standing up and faced the anger she wasn’t able to control anymore.

“How dare you? I live with this man and I want you to know that, despite his usual behaviour, he’s far, so far, from making a mess like you do tonight! So, yes, I think I can tell I know him especially to you who, God knows what, he stubbornly carries on calling his freaking best friend, thank you very much! Excuse me, do you know who he is? It’s incredible to believe you wrote all these stories about both of you John, it’s incredible you wrote them and you don’t even know their hero…”

At that, Sherlock tried to make an intervention

“I’m not…”

To be immediately cut off by Y/N.

“Shh, I’m busy here, sweetheart, wait a minute, I’m not done. And if you wanted to claim you’re not a hero again, don’t give yourself this trouble, you’re a hero. At least, you’re my hero. Where was I? Ah, yes. How dare you call “selfish” someone who jumps from a building to save your bloody life? Who fakes his own death during years to protect your little person? How can you be that rude with someone who has always been there for you, even when you didn’t deserve it? How can you blame his addiction when you don’t even try to help him out of it? Do you think yelling at him like a mad man will help him to stop? Do you think it’s a wise behaviour from a Doctor? I don’t think so. And how, my God, how the hell do you dare to blame him for Mary’s death? I wish she could come back from the dead and slap your stupid little face! I’m sure she would be so ashamed of your behaviour. She liked Sherlock, her, at least. He’s not a bloody sociopath! He’s just a lonely man who needs some love! A lonely man used to be blamed for everything and anything, used to be laughed at, betrayed. So he build walls around him and tried to avoid any feelings. You aren’t hurt when you don’t feel, that’s simple. But it doesn’t work. It doesn’t work and you keep coming with your hatred, you keep making him feel guilty for things he’s not guilty of. This is why I blame you, John Watson, to be the worst friend who has ever walk on this Earth. It’s a shame.”

The room was totally silent. John and Sherlock were both staring at Y/N, agape. John in frightfulness, Sherlock in awe. After a few seconds, John tried to say something again.

“I… I… But…”

“Shut up. Leave, go to sleep and come tomorrow to make it up to him. A night won’t be too long for you to swallow your bitterness.”

“O… Ok…”

With that, John threw a sorry look to Sherlock and a frightened one to Y/N before leaving, thunderstruck. He wasn’t the only one. While he was slowly making his way to the staircase, Y/N had proceeded to what she just had said. God. She was trying to find the courage to turn to Sherlock when she heard his voice, a little shaky

“I don… I don’t need you to protect me.”

Defensive mode. All right. She turned to the Detective, face blank.

“I know.”

“Why did you do this?”

Because I love you and I can’t stand this dumbass to treat you the way he does?

“Because, unlike you, I need to sleep from time to time and John’s screams stopped me from sleeping.”

“Liar.”

 Crap.

“Don’t upset me a second time tonight, you asshole, I’m tired. Good night.”

Y/N was starting to leave the room when Sherlock spoke again

“Wait!”

“For God sake… What now?!”

The genius was now standing in front of his armchair, a small smile playing at his lips.

“I… I think you offered me a hug…”

“I did…”

And Sherlock to ask shyly, blushing

“Can I get it?”

Y/N was too tired to think, too tired to resist. To head over heels with the Detective to even try to hide the pleasure she was having from hugging him tightly. He was so firm, so warm against her. Y/N breathed him, blessing her bad temper…

“You called me “sweetheart”.”

… Cursing her wild tongue.

“I… Did.”

“And your hero.”

She still was in Sherlock’s arms. There was no way she could escape. She didn’t want to.

“You are.”

Pulling slightly away, Sherlock stared in Y/N eyes. He was smiling.

“It sounds very much like a love confession to me.”

What could she do? She had never been able to resist to the Detective. It wasn’t going to magically start now.

“It is.”

“Good.”

Even under the threat of a weapon, Y/N would haven’t been able to explain how it happened, but it happened: Sherlock Holmes was kissing her, gently, tenderly, lovingly. When they broke apart, he whispered a little

“Thank you.”

It was the first time Y/N had been so happy to have a bad temper.

***

Thanks for reading

[paynesqueen]

Fall into Midnight: Chapter Two

A Liam Fanfic, K Rating (suitable for most ages)

Sometimes to move on, you need to go back in the past to get some perspective for your future.

CHAPTER 1 |

+NOTES+

I have no idea how many chapters there will be in it. I’ll see how it goes.

I started this a while ago and it got re-written so many times so I hope it still makes some sense.

This fic will mostly have romance and a bit of drama and some smut at some point.

I’m always open to suggestions or comments so feel free to leave some.

There will always be a lot of grammatical errors. I apologize for those.

Chapter Two

He had never expected to ever see her again. Perhaps maybe at a 10th year high school reunion, but not like this for sure. She hadn’t changed much either. It was strange standing here with her since they hadn’t been friends back then. She was hanging with the popular crowd since she was dating a guy on the football team, but she had never really acted like it. She was always nice to everyone and even when he got bullied, she was one of the first people to try and make it stop. So no they hadn’t been exactly friends, but they had spoken from time to time because that was that kind of girl she was; she liked to talk to everyone.

“Yes, it has.” He finally spoke. “How have you been?”

“Peachy.” She retorted, but her eyes didn’t reflect the word. “Grams, I’ll just go put away the grocery and be right back.”

And with that, she turned her back on them and walked back to the car to unload it.

“Don’t mind her attitude.” Mrs. Parker said. “She’s going through a hard time.”

“It’s alright.” He assured her.

“Well, I’ll leave the gardening for tomorrow then. I’ll go help her out in the kitchen. Thank you so much for your help today.” She thanked him as he walked her to the backdoor.

“It was my pleasure. If you want, I can come and help you out tomorrow.” He offered her.

“That’s really sweet of you. I’ll be sure to have a cuppa for you when you come over.” She smiled.

“Perfect. I’ll see you tomorrow.” He replied before letting her go inside.

He waited a little bit before heading back to his own house. He felt like a creep as he looked towards the kitchen window, but he just wanted to see Rosalie once more. She emerged in the kitchen, her arms full of packages. Seeing her was actually bringing back memories from high school and how he thought she was one of the most beautiful girls in the school. She used to keep her hair shorter, but now they were longer and in waves.

“You could have been nicer to him, Rose.” He heard Mrs. Parker chastised her taking him out of his thoughts. “He’s not the reason why you’re upset.”

“Grams...”

Liam didn’t stay longer as this was a private conversation and he didn’t want to feel creepier either by listening in. As he walked back inside his house, he wondered what had been the chances that the house next door to his was going to be occupied by one of his classmates. Life was strange like that sometimes.

When he came back inside, he checked his cell and saw he had one missed call from his real estate agent. He had called him yesterday about putting Amber’s name on their house. He listened to it and took note about what he would need to do for it to happen and he sort of hoped she hadn’t destroyed it before he got his name off it.

+++

Later that night, he was just done doing the dishes when there was a soft knock on the door making Watson bark at whoever was on the other side of the door. It was nearly 10 at night and he wondered who it could be.

“Watson, sit.” He ordered his dog as he opened the door. Watson wasn’t a mean dog, but he was big and he didn’t know how the other people could react to him.

On the other side stood Rosalie looking unsure of what she was doing there and he had to admit that he was intrigued as why she was standing in front of him.

“My grams sent me over to apologize for my attitude of yesterday.” She told him before he could ask her. “I guess you being a man was just enough to set me off, but you did not deserve that.”

“No need to. I mean, I did just leave my fiancée a week before our wedding so perhaps your attitude was on point.” He tried to joke.

“Well I guess you did deserve it then.” She sent me a small smile. “I read about it online. Not that I believe everything they say, but I guess they did have that part right.”

“I didn’t read them. I knew they wouldn’t care about the truth anyways.” He sighed.

For a moment, they just stood there in silence as neither of them seemed to know what to say. She had obviously said what she needed to say, but Liam didn’t really feel like being alone tonight and wondered if she would have a drink with him.

“I- I should probably get going.” She finally said as she backed away.

“Want to have a drink with me? Talk about old times or whatever.” He quickly offered her.

She seemed to hesitate for a moment and then finally nodded. Watson sniffed her a little and apparently found her to his liking as he started licking her hand and demanding her attention.

“Aren’t you a sweet boy?” She genuinely smiled at him as she petted him.

While she did that, Liam went into the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of red wine and two glasses. It wasn’t his drink of choice, but he thought that it might be something she enjoyed. When he came back, she was still kneeling in front of Watson who was on his back accepting the belly rubs she gave him.

“Hope you like red wine or else, I have beer and probably have some bottle of liquors somewhere.” He said to her.

“Wine is good.” She assured him.

He sat down and poured the wine. He watched her as she gave one final rub to Watson and walked up to him.

“So want to tell me the real reason why the wedding is cancelled?” She asked him as she sat next to him and accepting the glass from him.

“Will you tell me why you hate all men?” He retorted.

“I will if you will.”

“Fine. I was the one who cancelled the wedding because I realized that it was a mistake. I had this feeling for months, but it took a long time before I finally voiced it. She wasn’t happy and I can’t blame her. The conversation wasn’t easy with her and I tried to do the right thing and take care of everything myself so she wouldn’t have to deal with it, but I think that she mostly felt humiliated in the end. I’m pretty sure that if I forgot something at the house, it’s being destroyed at that very moment.” He told her.

“Yeah, that would be a good gut feeling.” Rosalie chuckled. “Women tend to have quite a taste when it comes to destroying our exes’ stuff.”

“Yeah, but I still think I took the right decision about this wedding if only a bit late. I didn’t think it was going to end up on a happy note for us you know. Honestly, I sort of realize that a part of me even regretted proposing to her so that’s how far long I had started to have doubts, but I guess they became louder as the months grew shorter.” He sighed. “I hope she’ll be able to forgive me and find the right one for her. She deserves to find the guy that won’t break your heart.”

She sat there in silence for a moment and he wondered what was going through her head at that moment. He was seconds away of asking her what was wrong when she finally spoke.

“You’re a good guy, Liam. I mean, yeah you did take your sweet time before finally telling her, but you didn’t play around once you did and you took your responsibilities and believe a lot of men would have just said no can do and left. Not caring what the other could go through.”

Now he felt they were about to start her sad story as she was once again lost in her thoughts.

“Now your turn.”

“I don’t hate all men, but since the targeted one isn’t available to deal with my wrath, well, all the other men must pay.” She sighed. “I’m pretty sure you remember Adam Carlson.”

He nodded because who could forget the football player she dated throughout high school? He wasn’t a bad person either, at least back then, but popularity did get to his head the year they graduated.

“Well, he’s the unavailable man who should be dealing with all my leftover anger of what he caused.” She went on. “That selfish bastard didn’t think for once second what his leaving would do. I don’t care what it does to me; I’m an adult and I can handle it or at least learn to deal with it. But did he think what it did to his kids? No no no... He just woke up one morning decided he didn’t want to be married anymore or have children. Apparently, it was not something he ever wanted but felt obligated to do. He asked for a divorce giving me full custody of our children and then disappeared. No number or anything to contact him in case something happens to the girls. That fucking asshole just decided that none of us were worth his time.”

When she was done, she finished her drink in one shot and he quickly refilled it; she obviously needed it. So many information he learned in the minutes it took for her to tell her story. She had kids as in more than one and she had them with her high school boyfriend which meant she had been with him for over ten years.

“Wow...” He finally spoke. “He deserves all the ass kicking in the world that’s for sure. I just can’t imagine someone doing this to his own children. I mean, it sucks about the divorce and I wish you didn’t have to go through it, but its one thing to divorce and another to complete abandon your kids.”

“Well he did. My oldest is old enough to understand what’s going on. She knows what her father did and still, she will ask me if it’s okay that she still loves him. I mean, what am I supposed to answer? I can’t say no, but at the same time, a part of me wishes she could hate him as much as I hate him for doing this to them.”

Tears were starting to streak down her cheeks and she quickly wiped them away; “I’m sorry. I didn’t think I would spill it all like this on you.”

“It’s okay. You obviously needed it.” He reassured her. “But I’m trying to understand something. You got full custody, so shouldn’t he be paying you alimony or something?”

“In our divorce terms, the money we made on selling our house was going all to me. It was his way or getting rid of all of us and be sure that we wouldn’t have a connection anymore.” She answered him. “I think that he just wanted out so badly. I mean, he told me that a year ago, the divorce was finalised six months later because there wasn’t much arguing. What I asked I got as simple as that.”

“Do you think your children will ever look for him? I mean, when they are older.” He asked her.

“I don’t know. If they do and they find him, he will have to deal with it, but I made it clear to him that he can’t come back into our lives if he ever feels the need to have his children back his in life after they all have been raised.” And then a sad laughing sound came out. “The worst part is that he probably won’t want to come back, but if by any chance he did, I’m not sure I would be able to tell him he can’t see his children if my girls want to see him too.”

“That’s because you’re a mom. I’m guessing most parents want the best for their kids and we’ll do what it takes to make them happy.” He replied. “But I honestly feel that if that time ever comes, you’ll do what’s right for your kids at that moment.”

“Thanks, Liam.” This time the smile she gave him seems a little bit less saddened.

“But since you brought them up in a way I wasn’t expecting. You have two girls?”

She laughed; “Yes. Grace is nine and Cora just hit the big two. They are both such balls of energy and probably the only reasons why I haven’t broken down completely.”

The surprised look on his face obviously made her go on; “Yes, I got pregnant at 17. It wasn’t an easy decision. I could have turn towards other choices, but I knew that I wanted this kid. I was lucky enough to have a family behind me and at that time, Adam had been onboard or at least, he made it seems like he was. Juggling my pregnancy and school hadn’t been easy and it may have taken me longer to graduate Uni, but she was worth it.”

And it was obvious in the way her voice softened that she meant it. He couldn’t imagine what she had to go through being pregnant so young. He wanted kids, but he was about to be 27 years old, but he wasn’t in a hurry to get any.

“It’s weird to think Adam was there for Grace when he wasn’t even sure he was the father, but Cora was for sure his and he suddenly couldn’t take it.” She admitted taking another sip of her glass.

Wait? What? He felt like he might have heard wrong. Adam might not have been the father? The way she spoke before, he hadn’t even doubted that there were other possibilities.

“Huh... I-” He stuttered not knowing what to say when she added more.

“We had been on and off in the time I got pregnant. I hooked up with a few other guys who could have easily been Grace’s father.”

Okay, the wine was obviously loosening her tongue. Liam wasn’t sure if she meant to tell that detail or if she just needed it off her chest. Still, that new information brought its load of questions he had about it.

“Didn’t he do a paternity test knowing there was a possibility that he was not the dad?” He asked her.

“No. When Grace was born, he decided that he was her father and no test would prove him wrong.” She sighed. “Honestly, I was surprised that he didn’t bring it up in the divorce. He could have easily made it that he was maybe not Grace’s biological dad, but he didn’t. I guess he just didn’t want to make it more complicated.”

She closed her eyes as she inhaled and exhaled softly; “God, I can’t believe I just threw this all on you. I’m so sorry, Liam. Perhaps, the wine wasn’t such a good idea.”

“I don’t mind at all. I mean, I wasn’t expecting to learn that much about you in less than 20 minutes, but it’s nice to know you feel enough at ease to share that much.” He reassured her.

“So would it be now your turn to talk? I think I did a lot of sharing tonight.” She laughed.

He had way more questions to ask about the subject, but she was clearly done talking about it and obviously needed the breather so he simply nodded.

“Honestly, I don’t know how much more I can say about a cancelled wedding. I mean, right now I’m just trying to think of the next steps to take, you know. Like, the guys and I are on a hiatus or whatever this is actually is anymore and I have worked on my music, but I still feel like I haven’t gone in the direction I was supposed to. I don’t know, maybe this wedding hadn’t been my only mistake in the last few years.” He sighed.

“Liam, you wanting to get married was not a mistake, you just chose the wrong girl. I mean, perhaps subconsciously, you are ready to get married and you were with her and you thought it was the obvious next step, but she just wasn’t the one you were supposed to marry. I’m pretty sure when you’re ready to date again, you’ll eventually find her. It might be in six month, a year or even two years, but you will find the right one.” She assured him.

She had a point. He did want to get married. It was something that always felt like the natural next step in a relationship. But yeah, he didn’t want to get married just to be married. He wanted the kind of commitment his parents have; he wanted something just as strong with its ups and downs.

“And as for the career, well, I can’t be much help there. You’ll eventually find your sound once you stop putting so much pressure on yourself. You didn’t say it, but I feel like you are comparing where you are and where the other guys are and god don’t we all know that’s the worst thing someone could do.” She continued. “So maybe you could try to relax and don’t rush your next album. Take your time. It doesn’t matter if it takes two or three years if it actually captures what you want to share with your fans.”

“Thank you Dr. Parker.” He laughed. “Any other advices?”

“Not at the moment.” She grinned. “If I ever do, I’ll be sure to send them to you.”

After that, they talked about random things. He listened as she told him about her dream of opening her own bookstore and café and she did the same when he told her about the few auditions he had done in hope to see if acting was something he wanted to pursue.

“Can’t you hint about what roles you auditioned for?” She asked. “I mean, you can’t tell me this with any details whatsoever.”

“I can’t. I mean, rumors are being spread as it is about what roles I audition for and most of the time, they are wrong because basically, no one is supposed to know what I audition for.” He answered. “Look, if one of these roles ever goes further than the first two meetings, I will give your more details. I promise you.”

They spoke about their families and she told him more about each of her daughters. Grace wanted to be a dancer and Rosalie had just signed her up for a few classes so she could decide what she preferred. Cora was in her terrible twos and Rosalie’s thin patience over the last few months was often tested.

“She inherited of my stubbornness, that’s for sure. I feel the need to apologize to my mother for what I have put her through when I was that age.” She exclaimed. “Grace was much calmer and maybe it was because she was an only child and she had no one else to look up to. Cora just wants what her sister has.”

“Well my mom always told my sisters and I that we would pay for what we put her through when we were going to have kids. So I guess that’s what’s happening to you right about now.” He laughed.

“That I am.” She laughed too and looked at her watch. “Oh damn, it’s nearly 1am. I should head back home.”

“Going to be awakened early by the girls?” He asked her.

“They are at my parents’ for the week. My mom wanted to give me time to settle in the house and give me some alone time.” She answered him. “I just think that this bottle of wine was the first alcohol I drank in the past two years and I feel its effect more than I thought or perhaps it’s the unloading I did earlier on you. I still apologize for that.”

“Might be a mix of both, but there’s no need to apologize for that.” He chuckled.

“Thanks. Well, it was really nice catching up with you, Li.” She said getting up. “If you ever feel like doing this again, I promise that the next time we’ll keep it lighter than tonight has been.”

Yes, he wanted to do this again, but the night was ending and he didn’t want her to leave before he asked her the one question he meant to ask her before she changed the subject back to him earlier. He needed to know now.

“But can I ask you one thing before you leave?” He said as she looked at him. “And please don’t take it the wrong way, but don’t you wish sometimes that Adam had taken the test so you would know for sure if he was the father? I mean, especially if he wasn’t, perhaps one of these other guys could have been a better father and wouldn’t have done what he did.”

“Now, I do, but back then, I was just happy he wanted to be the daddy. I mean, which 17 or 18 years old boy would easily just accept to be a father? I don’t know many who would have done this and I loved him. I was so much in love with him and it seemed like the simplest solution to just accept on faith that he was indeed Grace’s father.” She admitted.

“Maybe you’re right, but I feel like that this decision might have robbed some other guy’s chance of proving that he was capable of taking his responsibilities also.” He stated.

“What is this really about, Liam?” She asked him directly. “You obviously have something on your mind, so why won’t you just say it.”

They stared at one another before he finally asked her the question he meant to ask earlier; “Is there a chance that I’m Grace’s father?”

[sophiaholmes221b]

Sophia Holmes and the Blind Banker

Chapter Eleven

When I regain consciousness, we're still in the back of the van. They've placed a cloth gag in my mouth, bound my hands and feet tight together, and put a small potato sack over my head so I can't see, but apart from that, I'm grand.

Beside me, I sense Sarah shaking with fear as the van jolts to a stop and the doors are opened. A couple of men step in, taking the bags off our heads and slitting the ropes binding our feet before leading us out, whilst a third lifts John out, bridal style. He must still be unconscious.They lead us down a flight of stone steps into a dark tunnel, lit only by some dim, flickering lights which bounce clumsily off the grimy walls. Sleek hideout.

I don't resist as they lead us down, gathering as much information about this hideout as I can so I can return with dad after I escape - which I will. I have to bide my time: if I struggle now, I'll be putting John and Sarah in danger.

We walk past some stacked-up containers against the tunnel walls and it seems as if we've arrived at the main part of their headquarters. A fire burns in a dustbin in front, and the firelight flickers against the tunnel walls.

Sarah and I are lead over to two chairs beside the fire while John is carefully lowered into a third and bonded tightly. I notice a small cut across his left temple and deduce he was knocked out with a blow to the head with something heavy like a gun, so I must assume they're all armed. Not that it would be advisable to use a gun in here - the tunnels are too narrow: a stray bullet could hit any one of us.

I notice Sarah is crying as we're tied to the chairs and I give her a comforting smile as my kidnapper takes the gag from my mouth. I was right earlier: this is definitely a date she'll remember. Whether or not she'll want to see John after this is another thing.

A Chinese woman with sunglasses steps out from behind one of the containers and my eyes narrow as I recognise her as the 'tourist' following us around London. It wasn't paranoia; she really was watching us.

"Good evening, ladies," she says, and as she speaks I recognise her as The Opera Singer from tonight's performance. The ringmaster of this entire operation: General Shan. "It is unfortunate you got caught up in all this. It was never the plan."

"What plan?" I ask, dumbing myself down and willing that Sarah plays along too. "Please, I don't know what you mean!"

Shan steps forward, closer towards me. "I have seen you many times around Mr Holmes and his companion, yet I don't have a name for you."

She doesn't know who I am? Then I can remove any emotional leverage she might hold over dad.

"I'm Ellie Watson, and this is my mum," I reply, breathlessly.

"I'm only in town for a few weeks," Sarah says, accepting the role and playing it surprisingly well. "I'm sorry - I just wanted to see my daughter. Please let her go!"

I glance over to her and we exchange looks of mock terror. Well, mine is, anyway - I know what I'm doing.

"I see no reason not to believe you," Shan says slowly after watching us for a moment. "But still, Mr Holmes seems to value his companion, so family will also count into the bargain." I curse silently under my breath; this is not working out how I'd planned. "You will be released, unharmed, if Sherlock Holmes gives me then treasure, if not, then I'm sure we can make a deal over your bodies."

I shiver slightly as the fire blows away, but I keep my eyes on her as she turns away from us. The men who brought us here step forward from the shadows once more and fasten the gags back into our mouths as we struggle. In front, I watch as John regains consciousness and raises his hand to the cut on his head.

"'A book is like a magic garden carried in your pocket,'" General Shan says, quoting an old Chinese proverb which I've heard countless times. John looks around the tunnel and sees us, wincing with the pain in his head. I give him a weak smile. Shan walks closer to him. "Chinese proverb, Mr. Holmes."

John and I both look to her with startled panic. Shit.

"I ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes," John protests, and Shan smiles at him, humourlessly."Forgive me if I do not take your word for it." She reaches towards him and rummages through his inside pocket.

"Ow," John mutters in obvious pain. "Ow."

She slides out his wallet and takes something from it - something I can't see from this angle. Sarah looks at me, terrified. "Debit card, name of S. Holmes." The card dad lent him to get the shopping with. How did they know he had that in his possession? I never saw them check his pockets.

"Yes; that's not actually mine," John argues. "He lent that to me."

Shan ignores him, continuing to flick through his wallet. I know what she's going to find now. "A cheque for five thousand pounds made out in the name of Mr Sherlock Holmes."

"Yeah, he gave me that to look after." Not strictly true, but the General continues to go through his wallet and pulls out a small slip of paper.

"Tickets from the theatre, collected by you, name of Holmes," Shan persists.

"Yes, okay ..." John fades off as he bites back a silent curse. He really needs to be more careful about whose identity he keeps in his pockets if he wants to stay safe. "I realise what this looks like, but I'm not him."

"We heard it from your own mouth."

It's my turn to curse now. Surely he couldn't have been so stupid?

"What?" John replies obviously confused himself.

"'I am Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone.'" Shan quotes emotionlessly as John stares into space in front of him in utter disbelief. I share the same feeling.

"Did I really say that?" he chuckles weakly, and then lowers his head as a spark of pain shoots through him. "I s'ppose there's no use me trying to persuade you I was doing an impression."

Sarah gasps from beside me as Shan pulls out a small pistol and points it at his head. A shot at that range would be less of a risk, but she could hit someone else if John was to move suddenly. She won't take that chance.

"I am Shan," Shan introduces herself, and John stares up at her, obviously surprised that a middle-aged Chinese woman could be the leader of an international smuggling cult.

"You're ... you're Shan."

"Three times we tried to kill you and your companion, Mr Holmes," Shan continues, ignoring him. "What does it tell you when an assassin cannot shoot straight?"

I think of a cocky reply I could call out, but think better of it, focusing my attention instead on shifting my arms into a position where I can slide out of the bonds. I've gathered all the information I need now to have her put down in prison for the rest of her life.

In front, Shan brings another hand to the gun and cocks it. John cringes back at the sound, turning away. I hear him mutter a soft plea, but I don't hear the words uttered as he struggles against his bonds also. He looks back at her gun, his face full of terror as she pulls the trigger further back. She's bluffing. She has to be.

The gun clicks, and John grunts in shock as the bullet never fires.

The fire lights up Shan's face as she turns slightly, smiling smugly. "It tells you that they're not really trying."

John breathes heavily, trying to calm himself down. Really starting to wish I'd put that knife back into my pocket.

We exchange quick looks again as Shan returns with a clip, which she slides into the pistol and cocks it again, pointing it at John's head. He cringes away once more.

"Not blank bullets now," she teases, and I have to refrain from reminding her that she didn't have any bullets at all in the gun before.

"Okay," John breathes out, trying, and failing to calm his nerves.

"If we wanted to kill you, Mr Holmes, we would have done it by now. We just wanted to make you inquisitive." And we fell into that trap. Shan looks at him, stern and serious. "Do you have it?"

"Do I have what?" John questions, obviously playing stupid as we've talked about this enough times.

"The treasure," Shan replies, impatience growing in her voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about," he lies again as I continue to twist.

"I would prefer to make certain," Shan says as she turns away and I see her gesture to one of the men who stand to the side.

In one swift movement, he pulls the cover off of the large object to reveal the crossbow from the theatre, already loaded and ready to fire. We're about to take part in an escapology act, for information John doesn't have. Not the way I had anticipated dying, but there could still be a way out.

"Everything in the West has its price; and the price for her life ..." she gestures towards Sarah, and John turns to stare at her. "...Information."

I watch as the two men walk over to where we sit and pick up Sarah's chair, ignoring her cries of protest through her gag as they continue to carry her towards the crossbow.

"Sorry," John mutters despairingly from under his breath, his voice only just travelling close enough for me to hear it. "I'm sorry."

They set her chair down on the other side of the crossbow so that Sarah is facing, and directly opposite, the sharpened arrow tip. Tears trickle down her cheeks as she struggles in vain at her bonds. I bite back a triumphant grin as I find the knot in my bonds and begin to untie it.

"Where's the hairpin?" Shan demands, Sarah still safe for the moment whilst the sand is contained in the bag.

John tugs at his bonds, despite the pistol still pointed at him. "What?"

I may have neglected to tell him about the pin before we were taken, but it matters very little now.

"The Empress pin valued at nine million sterling," Shan says, sounding incredibly impatient and demanding. "We already had a buyer in the West; and then one of our people was greedy. He took it, brought it back to London and you, Mr Holmes, have been searching."

"Please," John begs. "Please, listen to me. I'm not ... I'm not Sherlock Holmes. You have to believe me. I haven't found whatever it is you're looking for."

"I need a volunteer from the audience!" Shan announces, treating this as just another performance.

"No, please," John repeats, desperately. "Please."

"Ah, thank you, lady," she continues, walking towards Sarah. "Yes, you'll do very nicely."

Sarah wails as she tugs at the ropes in desperation. My ropes loosen, but I hold them together. I can't move just yet.

Shan smiles, taking out a small knife from her pocket and reaching up to the sandbag, repeating the processes as she did before. The sand begins to trickle out, lifting the bag steadily higher as the weight lowers. Sarah continues to cry out as John just stares in absolute horror at the bag, unable to do anything to save his date. I sit still in my seat, watching with calculated thoughts.

Shan smiles again, looking around at the absent audience. "Ladies and gentlemen. From the distant moonlit shores of NW1, we present for your pleasure Sherlock Holmes' pretty companion in a death-defying act."

"Please!" John cries, but Shan continues to ignore him, choosing instead to walk over to Sarah and place an origami flower on her lap. The sign of a death committed by the Black Lotus.

"You've seen the act before," she states. "How dull for you. You know how it ends."

"I'm not Sherlock Holmes!" John calls, frantically.

"I don't believe you," Shan snaps back. A shadow flickers in the firelight which is cast upon the wall, and I smile slightly as I recognise the outline.

"You should, you know," the shadow says, and Shan twirls around. "Sherlock Holmes is nothing at all like him." I drop the ropes from my hands but freeze as Shan raises her pistol and aims it towards him. I hear dad's footsteps as he immediately shifts to the side of the tunnel, vanishing into the shadows. One of Shan's men starts to run forward to meet him. "How would you describe me, John? Resourceful? Dynamic? Enigmatic?"

"Late?" John mutters, tetchily.

"That's a semi-automatic," dad continues, ignoring John and stating Shan's problem, giving me enough of a distraction to slip into the shadows. "If you fire it, the bullet will travel at over a thousand metres per second."

Shan doesn't lower her aim, still ignorant of her problem.

"Well?"

"Well ..." Dad pauses and I hear a metal bar come into contact with the man's stomach and he falls to the ground, groaning in pain. "...The radius curvature of these walls is nearly four metres, if you miss, the bullet will ricochet. Could hit anyone. Might even bounce off the tunnel and hit you."

He darts suddenly out of the darkness and kicks over the nearest firepit, extinguishing even more of the light. John flinches at the sound and I turn thoughtfully around to the bin closest to me, but I guess it wouldn't achieve much except to draw attention to myself.

Dad scuttles through the shadows and appears just behind Sarah, beginning to untie her bonds after noticing that I've already gotten free. I recognise the figure of Lee, Soo Lin's brother, as he runs up behind him, looping a long, red scarf around his throat a couple of times.

The sand is still trickling out, the weight getting ever higher during the fight. I look between dad and Sarah for a half a second, trying to decide who to help, then I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I whirl around, looking into the darkness behind me.

A leg kicks out, and I stumble backwards as it comes into contact with my stomach. I really need to be more observant. I straighten up, panting heavily as I try to recover my loss of oxygen, and quickly defend myself from his next attack by grabbing his fist and twisting.

We continue to fight, both of us matching each other's abilities so that there is no clear leader. I risk a glance at what the others are doing as I duck beneath a kick aimed, again, at my chest, and see dad and Lee still struggling as John stumbles forward - a difficult feet as he is still tied to the chair - towards Sarah, obviously realising that neither of us will be able to save her.

I send out a kick of my own, a low one in comparison, but he jumps it easily, lashing out with his fists once more. John's chair clatters to the floor as he loses balance, but he continues to squirm forward, getting ever closer to the crossbowow. I spin back around in time to defend myself from what would have been a rather painful hit and finish the fight with an uppercut, not unlike the one dad ended our fight with a few days ago. My attacker falls to the floor, unconscious for now.

John finally reaches the crossbow and I watch with relief as he kicks the crossbow aside. More by luck than judgement, the arrow releases, burying itself in Lee's chest and he falls with little more than a grunt of surprise. But where's Shan?

I look around the tunnel as dad stands up, gasping for breath as the red scarf is still wrapped around his neck, and hear the distant quick-paced footsteps of General Shan, fleeing before she can be convicted.

Dad and I both consider heading after her, but dad turns to a whimpering Sarah instead, choosing to untie her bonds and give her emotional support. After a moment of deliberation, I leave her too. She's lost the Jade pin and one of her best Tong agents; if she was working for someone, then she'll be dealt with in their hands, their way.

Dad soothes Sarah gently, dropping to his knees and untying her gag as he mutters soft words of encouragement.

"Don't worry," John mutters softly from the floor as I run over to him. "Next date won't be like this."

I smile at his sense of humour and begin to untie his knots as Sarah continues to sob.

Dad throws me his phone. "Get onto Dimmock," he requests as he continues to soothe Sarah. "Tell him that a civilian was taken, but she's safe."

I nod and dial the number.

***

A little while later, the police arrive outside, their blue and red lights cutting through the darkness. We walk out to meet them and a paramedic runs over to Sarah, wrapping a shock blanket around her as she shivers into it. I shiver too. The adrenaline had been keeping me warm, but now it's over. Nearly.

John wraps his arm around Sarah and walks her away, but dad and I walk up to Dimmock's car before we leave.

"We'll just slip off," dad announces. "No need to mention us in your report."

"Mr Holmes ..."

"I have high hopes for you, Inspector," dad admits. "A glittering career."

"I go where you point me," Dimmock replies, in total contrast to when we first met.

"Exactly," dad says beginning to walk away.

We follow the road along until we reach the nearest cafe and we file in together. Now that I sit down in the booth with all the action over, my stomach rumbles against the newly formed bruise.

"John thinks you're anorexic, you know," dad says suddenly as we get our drinks.

I look up from my hot chocolate with surprise. "Really?" I answer, frowning.

"Yes, something about you not eating for a while?"

I groan as we approach this subject. "I'm absolutely fine!"

Dad chuckles. "That's what I said." He reaches forward, taking my hands as I put my cup down. "I know you enjoy this type of life, but if it all gets too much, I'm here for you."

I look up and smile weakly. "Thanks, but I'm fine, really."

He nods and slips back into his usual state as our food arrives.

I wonder what's caused the sudden shift in attitude. I know it's been hard for both of us after mother's death, and excluding ourselves from ourselves has been our way of coping. So why now?

A waitress comes over with our meals and smiles as she lays the plates down in front of us. Her facade covers up for the fact that she's just caught her boyfriend cheating, in her own house.The news flicks on from the TV behind the counter and I look up, curious to see whether our little adventure has hit the media yet, but when the journalist starts talking about rehoming a load of puppies, we pack away. Our story is unlikely to be broadcasted for government protection or whatever, which leaves us anonymous as usual.

***

I don't wake up until around ten the next morning. The previous sleepless nights finally caught up with me, leaving me to refresh myself for a while.

When I do wake, I run a brush through my hair before slipping some clothes on and grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl as I pass through the kitchen.

"Morning," dad says softly as I sit down at the table, and he gets up to put the kettle on. "Hot chocolate?"

"Please," I agree, nodding, and peering at a newspaper. Some article about a series of disappearances catches my eye, but I draw them away again as dad hands me my mug.

"So, 'Nine mill' ..." John says, looking up from the kitchen table as he receives his tea.

"Million," dad corrects, as he pours his own up.

"Million, yes; 'Nine million for jade pin. Dragon den, black Tramway.'"

"An instruction to all their London operatives," dad explains, and John nods in mild understanding. "A message; what they were trying to reclaim."

"What, a jade pin?"

"Worth nine million pounds," dad agrees. "Bring it to the Tramway, their London hideout."

"Hang on: a 'hairpin' worth nine million pounds?" John frowns.

"Apparently."

"Why so much?

"Depends who owned it," dad points out.

"Who's was it?" John questions and I roll my eyes.

"Shan said in the tunnel," I remind him. "It's the 'Empress pin'. Extremely valuable on its own, but in a collection - priceless."

"So who's got it now?" John inquires. "I mean, both of the men the group suspected are dead."

"Van Coon," dad begins, putting his cup down on the side. "I need to have a chat with his PA." He walks towards the door, putting his coat on, and I stand up, joining him at the stairs. "Coming?"

"Yeah, hang on!" John mutters, downing the rest of his tea before grabbing his coat and following us out.

***

"Two operatives based in London," dad explains, reciting the background information of the smugglers as we step out of the taxi and walk towards Shad. "They travel over to Dalian to smuggle those vases. One of them helps himself to something: a little hairpin."

"Worth nine million pounds," John adds.

"Belonging to the Empress of China," I finish.

"Eddie Van Coon was the thief," dad says again. "He stole the treasure when he was in China."

"How d'you know it was Van Coon, not Lukis?" John challenges. "Even the killer didn't know that."

"Because of the soap," I tell him as we navigate through the revolving doors, and I look smugly at John as he gives me a blank look.

"How did you possibly get that from a bottle of soap?" John demands in badly suppressed amazement as dad goes off to speak to Reception.

"Simple," I begin, and John rolls his eyes.

"Not for us all," he mutters, but I continue, ignoring him.

"Van Coon and his PA both have the same brand of soap in their possession: a 'ladies' brand, if you like. Known for its soft texture and sweet scent. Van Coon was certainly not the type of man to buy himself scented soap, and the bottle was nearly empty, which means someone had been using it besides him. He'd had a lady over."

"Sebastian is in his office," dad says, coming back over. "I'll let you two collect the cheque."

"But how did you get that he had the pin from that?!" John persists as dad disappears.

"I wasn't sure until recently," I admit, leading John through to Sebastian's office. "I noticed the pin in his PA's hair when we were looking through Van Coon's receipts a couple of days ago. Looked expensive, but I didn't think much more about it at the time. The soap told us that Van Coon was in a relationship with his PA, but his frequent trips abroad meant that he had to apologise. Gifts were his favourite way. To make up for his recent absence, Van Coon stole a hairpin for his girlfriend, with no idea of what its value or history was."

John's jaw drops open. Amazing."

"Thank you."

"Ah, Miss Holmes, Doctor Watson," Sebastian calls as we enter his office. "How's our little problem going?"

"All solved," I reply, calmly. "Your burglar scaled the side of the building, hopped onto the balcony, and came through the window to Shad's office to leave a message for one of your staff. You won't be troubled by him again, though. He's dead."

He raises his eyes in some scepticism, but pulls the draw on his desk open, withdrawing a chequebook and pen. "I think we agreed on twenty grand?" Sebastian recalls as he signs it. "Who am I making this payable to?"

"Mr Sherlock Holmes," I reply, looking out the window thoughtfully as he addresses it.

"He really climbed up onto the balcony?" Wilkes questions as he slips the piece of paper into an envelope.

"Nail a plank across the window and all your problems are over," John replies, scornfully.

Looking slightly irritated, Sebastian holds the envelope out to John. "Thanks," he says, handing it immediately over to me for safekeeping, now self-conscious about possessing anything of dad's.

As we turn to leave, I hear a piercing shriek of happiness coming from down the hall and smile to myself as I recognise it as the PA.

She's suddenly become a very rich lady.

[shawn-mendes-post]

Secret Relationship

A/N: Hi, I do not own anything. I just had this idea. Sorry if you don't like certain celebrities that I said. I tried to have a range so there at least would be one celeb. Also a oneshot.

Y/N being a famous actress and singer was currently getting ready for an interview with James Corden. She is hoping it would just be an interview, but with James you can never be 100% sure. She put on a sexy sequin lace mesh embroidery backless dress that left very little to imagine.

She sits in the pink room, roaming Instagram, hearting different post. She smiles as she sees a picture of her boyfriend, Shawn. They were currently dating for a year and no one had any idea. It was for the best because they didn't want to deal with media taking things out of proportion.

Y/N being an American Horror Story and being a romantic interest to Evan Peters would not be good for the relationship. She did wished they could be open about their relationship and didn't have to see fans shipping him with Camila Cabello.

Sighing, she hears her name being called. She stood in high heels, wobbling from standing so quickly, makes her way to the stage. She waves and high fives the audience members that were close. She could already picture the surprise on her boyfriend's face since he was helping James out for the week.

" Hello! I can't believe you are actually here. " James said, giving her a hug. " Well, I couldn't deny your invitation. I love your show so I immediately said yes," she replied, glancing at Shawn's shocked face. They both move to sit down, ( Y/N) smoothing out her dress.

" It's amazing that you moved to America from London when you were 16. How do you feel?"

" Homesick at times since most of my family is in London. I'm also grateful for this opportunity to work here and meet some wonderful people. I do go back to London when I'm touring. So it's been a roller coaster from being a simple girl and now going on tours or shooting in movies. It's been fun and I can't wait to see what happens in the future ."

The audience cheers as James looks at the cue cards. " Yes, I understand. We know that you have many and I mean many celebrity crushes," James said, laughing lightly as he watches her blush. " Who is your top 5?"

" Oh, that is hard. I love all of my crushes," she said, glancing at Shawn, wondering if she could say them. She knew he would get jealous at times when she rambled about one of the celebrities.

Shawn nod his head slightly, knowing he can't stop her from answering James. He didn't understand why he didn't know she was going to be on the show. 'She never said anything.'

" Harry Styles would be one because he is simply amazing. I never really listened to one direction, but when he went solo, I was falling. I actually have his album and would listen to it nonstop." Her cheeks flush as she bites her lower lip. Chuckles could be heard in the audience as they knew how that must have felt. " Emma Watson because why not? She is amazing and a role model to other little girls. I grew up with her and always wanted to meet her. "

" Ah, you a Harry Potter fan? You know Shawn is?" James asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Y/N laughs and nods her head as she admits she is a big Harry Potter fan. Shawn could feel his cheeks heat up at the mention of being a fan of Harry Potter. The two of them would always have a marathon with the movie when they both weren't so busy.

" Bill Skarsgård because he is hot. Like I love Cumberbatch, but Skarsgård has more sharp define cheeks. He has a jawline for days," she said, seductively, eyes flutter as she says the line from AHS. Cheers could be heard from the audience when they hear the familiar line. James was laughing at how she said it so wonderfully. " Wow. Amazing. "

Shawn shift as he felt a little jealous that she hasn't mentioned him. He knew that she was trying not to let anything slip about the two, but it still hurtled him listening to her talk about other guys.

" The last two? You are almost done. Then we could move on to the game we are about to play. "

" I would say Tom Holland,but I have a family member who loves him. So for respect to them I won't say him. Let me think. " She ponders, thinking about the last two people she would say. " I feel like if I say any one of my Costars it would be cheating. I do love Evan Peters, Sarah Paulson, Jessica Lange, etc, but I would not count that. "

Her eyes lit up as she knew one person she didn't say. " I can't believe I didn't say his name. Nick Robinson because of Love, Simon. I would watch that movie all the time and always cry for about a good hour or 2 after the movie was done. My boyfriend always asked me why I put myself through the pain. I just love the moive and I love the message behind it," she sniffled, not really thinking about what she just said.

It was silent as Y/N tries to contain her sniffles. She looks at James as he stares at her in shock. Tilting her head, she didn't know what she said wrong. Turning to look at Shawn his face was completely white as if he saw a ghost. " Did you say boyfriend?" James asked, knowing he heard correctly.

Freezing, she stared at Shawn with big doe eyes filled with fright not knowing what to say. She then glance at her manger, Liam. He was shaking his head as if not to say anything about it. " Well, I wouldn't say boyfriend..." she started, trailing off as she didn't know what to say. " We are just really close friends who hang out a lot. Most of my friends tease me about him being my boyfriend. I just say boyfriend so it is easier to introduce him," she said with a shrug, smiling fakely at James.

" That is a load of shit. How can you say you dont have a boyfriend? Maybe, I need to hook you up with Shawn. I mean you are hot, he is hot. The two of you would be smoking together," James said, giving her a look. He turns around to face Shawn to see Shawn's face was completely red. James didn't know if it was from embarrassment or anger.

" Let's move on. " She wiggles in her seat as she tries to get away from the topic. She could already see Shawn's mad face and knew they would fight as soon as they got home. " Lastly, it's hard to pick one more. I mean I love Eddie Redmayne, Nick Kroll, Pete Davidson, Callum Turner, Dylan Minnette and more." She groans as she nibbles on her lower lip a bad habit she picked up when she is nervous. " I guess John Mulaney because he can make me laugh. There is just something about him that can make any awkward conversation into something funny. I feel like it would be amazing to hang out with him. "

James nod as he knows what she is talking about. " Well, that was more then 5. I did make a mistake telling you to only pick 5. Next we are going to play Flinch with Shawn Mendes and Y/N.

After the show Y/N stayed around taking to James because she didn't want to go home yet. James was always laughing and joking which made her feel more calm and relaxed. Her manager came saying they need to get back because she will be busy in the afternoon. The drive was silent between the two, not awkward but a comfortable silence.

" Will you be okay at home? I saw how Shawn looked. "

She turns to her manager and laughs slightly. " I'll be fine. I'll call you if I need you." She slips out as she makes her way to her flat she had. Outside, she could see the lights on and that worried her.

" Shawn?" She asked, entering the flat, dreading what is about to come. Shawn was currently on the couch, arms crossed as he watches the door. " I'm sorry. I didn't mean to slip up. I wasn't thinking. I didnt even know I was going on James's show until to late. Baby, dont give me that look. "

He looked like a kicked puppy, staring with his hazel eyes. " Why didn't you say my name? I can forgive you for slipping up. I can't believe you lied about our relationship. Just friends right?"

Grunting, she takes off her shoes, throwing them to the side. Her hands run through her hair a habit she picked up from Shawn. " I panicked. I knew you didn't want others to know about our relationship. "

" I didn't want that? No! It was you who said to keep it a secret. I want everyone to know we are together. I want to go out on dates with you. Shower you with love! Tell everyone that you are mine." Shawn yelled, getting frustrated.

" I'm sorry, I didn't want others to know. You know how the media will react. Especially, when I'm working with Evan. You could barley watch the little clips I show you. You know a lot of people ship me with Evan. As many fans ship you with Camila."

" I don't care about that. I love you and I am with you. So what. I'm the one that kisses you for real. I'm the one that makes you moan my name," Shawn spoke, moving closer towards her. He leans and captures her lips agaisnt his in a rough kiss. His hands on her hips, bring her closer towards him.

He pulls back, leaving a trail of kisses down her neck. Nibbling as to leave his mark on her. " Everyone is going to know you are with me. " She moans as he bites her sensitive spot. His hands trailing under her dress as he flicks a finger against her clit.

To be continued....

Maybe.

[mskinkyafro]

For You ( Aubrey x MC)

A/N: Hey! I’m finally back with an Aubrey fic! It took me a minute since this is inspired by the latest chapter. Y’all know I have to rewrite that discussion that MC and Aubrey had. Our man would never stay out of this. He would stand by his woman. Anyway, this is a quick fic on how it should’ve went or imagined how it should between Viola and Aubrey. Some dialogue taken from the chapter is used in this fic also and some of it is altered. 

Summary: After much convincing from Viola, Aubrey agrees to help. 

All Rights to PB to characters, location, etc.  Viola Porchia is mine. 

Rating: PG. A few kisses here and there and that’s it. One tiny innuendo (if any tbh)

After spending their lunch together Aubrey and Viola walk from his car toward her trailer. As they step side by side he reaches to intwine her hand into his and squeezes it softly as they close the distance toward her dressing room. He looks from their hands to her eyes and catches her smile shyly before she leans her head on his shoulder as they continue to walk. He felt his heart flutter and he couldn’t help but feel content. 

“You know out of not being able to speak or see you,this is what I miss the most. Just being able to see your beautiful smile.”

“Aubrey...you’re making me blush. I’m starting to believe you’re goal is to make me turn red at every chance you get.” Viola says as her cheeks flush but her smile brighter than ever.

Viola removes her head from his shoulder as they reach her trailer. He holds the door open as she enters and closes it once there both in and he immediately pulls her back so that their bodies are inches from each other.

“My goal is to express how amazing you are. From your intelligence, your kindness, and to your bravery. The list goes on. I just don’t know how a guy like me got so lucky.

Wrapping her arms so that they circle around his neck, Viola  grins at Aubrey as she leans forward.

“I’ve been asking myself the same question.”

“I guess we really do fit together in every way.” he whispers, recalling his words from their conversation earlier.

He closes the gap between the two as he kisses her lips gently. Their lips move together until Viola breaks away first, her head resting underneath his chin.

Breathlessly she says.

“You got that right.”

Catching his own breath Aubrey looks down warmly at Viola.

“So am I forgiven?”

Viola pulls away and pretends to mull over what he just said.

“Hmm I think your missing two things, Mr. Watson.”

“Really? Enlighten me.”

“For one, you mentioned lots of kisses and well, after deliberation you fell a little short.”

“Well then, I’m more than happy to fix that.”

Smirking Aubrey leans and kisses her passionately and slowly. He lets one hands cup her cheek as the other tangles in her hair. As he kisses her intently and eagerly he feels as if he were a man stranded in a desert.  His thirst visible right then and there. His hunger for her lips increasing by each second. He removes his mouth from hers and lets it trail down her neck, pressing delicately kisses as he goes. 

“Mhmmm...Aubrey…” Viola trails off.

His mouth vibrates on her sensitive skin as he speaks.

“How am I looking now, Ms. Porchia?”

“Oooh! Hmm..much, much, much better.

Aubrey reluctantly removes his lips from Viola’s neck and smirks at her.

“Good. I’d do anything...”

He lets his fingertips trace up her neck and landing on her pouty lips before finishing his sentence.

“...to please you.”

He drops his hand and watches as he notices her shiver. Clearing her throat she manages to keep her slightly shaky voice from faltering anymore as it is. 

“Ahem, since you mentioned it. There’s still one last thing.” her playful tone tone fading slowly.

Confused for a moment as to what else there was to do, it clicked in his mind.

“Ahh. Yes, you’re right. Viola, I want to in person say I’m sorry. I had no right to get so upset, especially how hard of a day that was for you. I truly am sorry and hope you’ll forgive me.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that and appreciate everything you did today. If I’m being honest I couldn’t stay mad at you even if I tried. But there’s something I need to tell you. I need your help.”

“What’s up.”

“I found out that Carmichael is fraud. He’s a shady politician. ”

She continues into detail about everything she’s uncovered, her collaborative investigation activity this past weekend with Ellen. 

Shock was etched across his face. 

“Unbelievable!”

“I know. I was just surprised as you are. Unfortunately there’s more. It sees Charlie has a vested interest in Northbridge News. And he’s putting a lot of money in that vest pocket. I hate to tell you this but I followed him and Alec. I got them on film exchanging thousands of dollars” she says gravely. 

Shaking his head in angry manner he speaks. 

“This is horrible. We have to do something.”

“I’m glad you think so too. Luckily, I have a plan. I need you on our people, and telling everyone to keep rolling and the deviation from the script is fine.”

More confident with her plan she holds herself more proudly. 

“We’re going to let everyone know that he’s been bribing Oak Hills and Northbridge News for months.”

Aubrey listening intently falters at the thought of dragging the studio into this scandal. There’s so many people who work at the station, who depend on this job. 

He questions Viola quietly.

“You’re going to include the station in all of this.” 

He watches as her face morphs into a mixture of  confusion and shock. 

“I have to, don’t I? I can’t just tell half the truth.”

“Viola…the entire studio would shut down. It might even affect our ability to find new work, if this gets out.”

He can see the annoyance in her eyes 

“What do you mean, if this gets out?”

“Viola...hear me out. I’m not condoning any of this. Hell, I want to take both Carmichael and Alec down but I’m thinking of the big picture. This information will have an impact on everyone working at the studio.”

“Aubrey?! If Carmichael wins the election then more than just us will be impacted. More than the city of Northbridge, but the entire state!”

Aubrey steps closer and rests his hands on her arms. 

“I understand that. I’m not saying for us to not take action. I’m saying we should think carefully before we act. To make sure the studio won’t be harmed. I’m not talking about just our jobs. I’m talking about Tony, June, Maggie, and all the others. What will happen to them if we come out saying Northridge News is corrupt? This potentially has damaging effects to everyone and a vast majority is unaware that their livelihoods are at risk. We owe that to everyone who’s employed here to at least think of another way.”

He stares at her trying to decipher the cryptic expression on her face as she stands silently. Her voice breaks the still air softly. 

“Oh Aubrey, I think it’s too late for that. The election is just around the corner. I wish you’d stand with me. This is the most important thing I’ve ever done...and I expected you to be apart of it.”

She pushes his hands off her and walks to the other side of the dressing room. She wraps her arms around herself as she looks in the mirror. 

He deflate as she walks away from him. He hates disappointing her but he’s trying to be fair.  He wants to be able to protect everyone. But it seems that there’s a choice that has to be made. One or the other. He’s unsure what he’ll choose though. 

Still facing away from him Viola speaks.

“You know, somehow he figured out my father was in a coma. He knew I was too close and did the one thing he does best and there his money. He backed me in the corner. My father or my reporter’s integrity” 

She turns around to face him. She takes note of the tortured look in his blue eyes. 

“Both of those are dear to me. Yet, that asshole forced me to choose. So I chose my father’s health. Carmichael took care of the bill and that’s why I was throwing softball questions his way. I felt so horrible the entire time. Having to compromise my ethics as a journalist was the hardest thing I had to do.”

“Viola…”

She ignores him and continues on. 

“I felt so small and powerless. The same way those farmers feel. I can’t just stand aside and only worry about my needs. I did that and look where it got me. Men like Carmichael don’t deserve to be in office,the citizens of Northbridge deserve better. Yes, I thought about what this will cost. My dream, jobs, but it’s the right thing to do. “

“Please...Viola. Reconsider.”

“I did. Many times Aubrey. And every time I was compelled that this is the only way. When I think back to all that’s happened, I realized I’ve accomplished my dream and though it may die, that means I can have a new one. Aubrey, if we did lose our jobs you can go back to chasing your dream.”  

Aubrey shifts from foot to foot. 

“Viola, I’d love to. But I don’t think I could. I’m not ready nor-“

Viola walks back from across the room and places her hand firmly yet gently on the side of his face. 

“I know it’s scary to leave the security of a good thing. But maybe this is a sign to take the leap of faith. To follow your dreams.”

“I suppose you’re right but still I’m concerned-”

“You know this is the only way. Please say you’re with me. I can’t do this without you.”

He gazes into her hazel eyes and sees the desperation. That’s when the last of his resolve broke. He’s thoughts are everywhere but he knows deep down she’s right and he knows that no matter what, he’ll do anything for her. 

“If I have to choose between you and the studio…”

He wraps his arms around her waist so she’s pressed against him and staring deep within her eyes before planting a soft kiss on her lips. 

“I won’t stand in your way…”

With a dejected look Viola starts to pull out of his embrace but is tug back immediately into his arms. 

“...Because I’ll stand by your side.”

Relief floods her face and she excitedly grabs Aubrey by his shirt and kisses him deeply. He kisses her back equally with the same amount of effort and emotion. They pull away briefly before their foreheads pressed together as they smile sweetly at the other. They understand what’s at risk but as long as their together having each other’s backs, they know it’s worth it. 

Tagged: @cora-nova @rain18rain @lady-dianelewis @hellomynameisdevi @mrsmckenziesworld @snobreywatson @jlpplays1

If you would like to be tagged in more of this pairings fics, let me know!