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Missing, InactionI catch sight of him in the big mirror in the hall, and for a moment I think he is smiling. Time, which has been moving with geological slowness, halts as the world and I take a breath.Missing, Inaction by vladimirsangel
Dead men don't smile. I've seen him many times over the past few months, that memorable face splashed over the newspapers, that unique name on everyone's lips.
Sherlock Holmes is dead.
And dead men don't smile. Holmes doesn't smile much either, I wanted to say to those who came to me constantly, plying me with questions, always with a numbing, past-tense certainty. What was he like? What had been the greatest part of his life? They walked around our rooms, endless streams of them, until I felt myself at the end of my patience and forced them back out. Baker Street had started to feel more like a crime scene than any locked-room mystery we'd ever encountered. People were everywhere, scrutinising everything, missing no scrap of paper or scuff on the skirting board.
But I - I in my grief noticed n
The American 1 SherlockxReaderAmericans, Holmes had not worked with many in his line of work, nor did he have much experience regarding them. Now, there was one moving into his flat, thanks to dear John who had met his new flat mate on a trip to the U.S. a few years ago. Watson had completely disregarded telling Sherlock anything about his replacement, but had assured the detective that he would enjoy this person’s company.The American 1 SherlockxReader by AshFD3
John watched Sherlock pace the room from his chair, with an amused smirk on his face. He knew that his friend would be in for a surprise when the new inhabitant of Baker Street showed up and that must have been obvious to Sherlock because he seemed nervous. But luckily, Holmes had not been able to deduce what was going to be shocking about his flat mate; although that hadn’t stopped him from trying.
“He’s late, you know. I’ve heard that Americans were rude, but does he really need to be late?” Sherlock asked as he glanced at the clock. He looked to John and sa
Married to My Work, Chapter 1Chapter 1: IntroductionsMarried to My Work, Chapter 1 by DragonHaven42
John Watson hesitated before opening the door to the conference room. He did not need to look around as he walked in leaning on his cane, he knew that eyes lingered on him. Judging. He sighed inwardly, his competitors were all fit and young, wearing either expensive suits or brand name casual slacks with tank tops to display their muscles. With his limp and discount clothes he looked quite shabby indeed. But Mike thought he might have a chance....
He found an unoccupied table at the back of the room and sunk gratefully into a chair, leaning his cane against the wall and partially concealing it. He heard the door to the room open but did not look up, and was surprised when some one sat across from him.
“I recognize a military man when I see one,” said a gruff voice with a strong Australian accent. John looked up as a man with a large scar on his face held out a hand, “Sebastian Moran.”
“John Watson.” John replied with what he
Bruh (Sherlock X Teen!Reader)"Open the door, bruh!"Bruh (Sherlock X Teen!Reader) by LowBattery00
Sherlock and john exchanged glances before John struggling to stand but being pardoned by the consulting detective as he himself stood from his laptop. The banging of the door pressed on until Sherlock opened the door, his eyes dimming at the sight of (f/n) (l/n). There were times when he wished he stuck to his homeless networks and didn't get help from this visibly weed smoking, uber-feminist, less than respectful, food thieving teenager who despite all these things somehow aspired to be a doctor one day. It was the only reason she helped Sherlock, in exchange for five pounds a week along with tips and mentorship from John who was more than willing. She slid past him, dropping her jacket onto the ground along with her bag and plopping onto the couch next to John, "Evening, doc. Imagine this prick's been rubbin' ya wrong again?"
Half the time, neither of them could understand her.
So when they could, it was something to acknowledge.
"Uh, no not really. But
Christmas (Lestrade X Wife!Reader)"Sherlock, I need to speak with you..."Christmas (Lestrade X Wife!Reader) by LowBattery00
Your brother gave you a strange look but didn't cease his typing, nothing short of your expectations. He worked in his pajamas and robe, you looked down at your watch and saw it to be two in the afternoon. A small frown came over you as he continued typing and growled, "Sherlock, please put the bloody laptop away and listen." A groan of exhaustion omitted and he sank into the couch seat, sloppily sitting in the way a child did when somewhere they didn't want to be. You sat down and tried to speak calmly with the thoughts of past boyfriends calling her and her family weird because Mycroft would get into an unfair battle of wits with them or Sherlock would point out their flaws and tendencies. You loved your brothers but they were not the type you brought a boyfriend home to.
You knew you and Greg's dating and eventual marriage hadn't ever sat right with Sherlock and, shockingly enough, Mycroft either. It was as though some unnatural, fraternal ins
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