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6: Angel: JohnLock"... Do you believe in angels...?" John asked Sherlock once.
"Why do you want to know it?" he replied with a questionmark above his head.
"...I´m just curious."
"Ok... well, I don´t really believe in them. No one ever saw an angel and there´s no proof that they exist. You know, I´m a scientist. I just "believe" in something which can be proofed" Sherlock explained.
John didn´t answer, he just nodded and continued to write his blog.
Four years later, Sherlock DID believe in one angel - the one named John.
John wasn´t in the flat, so Sherlock was able to prepare everything.
The flat was tidied up and clean. Like, REALLY clean. The living room was decorated with some candles with wine and two wine glasses on the table. Nothing more, nothing less.
Also, Sherlock was nervous. Just a bit, but he feared something would go wrong... or John would say "No."
"I´m back, Sherlock" John entered the flat and as soon as he put his jacket away, Sherlock went st
8: Tinsel: JohnLockSherlock woke up and looked around. John was NOT lying next to him.
That made him a bit sad, because Sherlock loved to wake his beloved doctor with a kiss...
Whatever. He decided to stand up, stretched his body a bit and went to the bathroom.
The first thing he noticed was the golden tinsel in his hair. With a confused look in his eyes, Sherlock started to pull it out of his hair.
There was a lot of tinsel in his curls.
Ten minutes later, he confronted John, the tinsel in his hand.
"Why was that in my hair?" Sherlock asked.
"Oh, Mycroft put that there. You didn´t sleep for over 3 days and when your brother visited us, you - literally - "fell" asleep. You should be thankful that I was able to catch you before you kissed the floor."
"...." Sherlock gave John a kiss. After that, his phone was buzzing.
A message from Mycroft.
- Good morning Sherlock, I hope you did sleep well. Lestrade and Molly really like the picture.
Greetings, Mycroft. -
At the end of the text there was a picture
1: Mistletoe: JohnLock- It´s christmas time again... december started. God I hate this time... so much colourful lights around buildings, a waste of energy. Meeting the family, dull and boring. I don´t even want to see them... and there was no case for over two weeks.. I need one! -
"Sherlock, can you give me the chain of lights?" John asked Sherlock with a smile. He nodded and gave him the snowflake-shaped lights which John put on the christmas tree.
He just loved to decorate their flat and Sherlock likes to watch him doing this. Mainly because it made him happy, so happy he actually smiles like a child.
John moved around the flat and then it happened. He stood under a mistletoe.
Sherlock grinned and sneaked behind him, hugged John careful and lay his head on Johns shoulder.
"Hey, what´s wrong with you...?" John turned around and looked into Sherlocks blue eyes.
He just leaned down to him, kissing him softly on the mouth, wandering to Johns neck and biting there lightly. John was too surp
4: Candy Canes: JohnLock"Sherlock, did you see the candy canes?" John asked aloud from the living room. "... no, I didn´t. You sure you bought some?" - "Yes, I AM sure."
John searched everywhere to find them. In the kitchen, bedroom, bathroom, living room, also in the fridge (and hoped Sherlock did NOT misuse them for an experiment) - but they were gone.
"Come on John, it´s ok. We can survive without them." - "But I like them." John pouted. Sherlock kissed him. "You can have my kisses instead." - "Well... this is a good offer. I think I´ll forget about the canes ~ "
John tousled through his dark curles and smiled. "I´ll go and buy a present for Ms Hudson now. See you later!"
After he left, Sherlock hung the candy canes he hid on the christmas tree with a sign on one which said "Surprise, my beloved. XXX, Sherly."
3: Snow: JohnLock"Finally snow...!" John was running out of the flat, looking up into the sky. The snowflakes were falling down silently and slowly, coating London in a white colour.
"I really missed this last year... oh I hope it´ll stay everywhere!"
"John, come back into the flat, you´ll catch a cold!" Sherlock said, standing in the hallway and looking worried.
"But... there was no snow last year and it finally comes down... I love snow!!"
John looked at him with kinda sad eyes. He knew that Sherlock couldn´t win against his puppy eyes. He sighed and took his coat, putting it over John´s shoulders.
"Come back in a few minutes so I can warm you ~ " he whispered with a seductive smile.
"Of course, my dear." John asked with a kiss on Shrelock´s cheek.
2: Hot Chocolate: JohnLock"So... why did you bath in ice water again? For over an hour?!" John asked Sherlock a bit angry. Sherlock was sitting on the couch, wrapped with several blankets and still shivering. "I-it was fo-for an experim-ment" he said with a low and shaky voice. "You nearly drowned! I´m glad that I entered the bathroom early enough... you dozed away in the bathtub because you were supercooled...!"
Sherlock looked away with guilt in his eyes. Not only guilt but also sadness. Because he made John worry about him. He had hurted him - again. Sherlock didn´t want to hurt him ever again.
"I-I am so-sorry.." he whispered a bit depressed. John sighed. "Stay there so you get warm again." He left the room, leaving Sherlock alone. Soon, he started to feel a bit better and did not shiver that much anymore. But he still felt a cold feeling in his chest.
John returned with a steaming cup of... Hot Chocolate?
"Here, drink this. It´ll help you to warm-up." John gave him the cup with a heart-wa
7: Pie: JohnLock"I´ll make a pie for Ms. Hudson, so please do NOT disturb me" Sherlock told John.
"You... make a pie? YOU?!" John asked bewildered. "Wow, very interesting!" He chuckled.
"Don´t laugh. It´s my first time doing this... so please shut up."
Sherlock pouted. John pet his dark hair and smiled. "Can I help you?" - "No, I want to do it on my own." - "... just use the ingredients listed in the recipe, Sherlock. I´m serious. Don´t blow up the flat." - "I´m not an idiot."
John didn´t answer, he just smirked and went back to the living room.
One hour passed. Two hours passed.
A small "Boom!" was heard from the kitchen which caused John to look at the door. He was alarmed, stood up and ran directly to the kitchen.
Sherlock opened the door at the same time. He had dough in his face and on his hands, looking sheepish at his husband.
"Can you help me, John...?" he asked with a small voice. John smiled lovely, licking a bit dough off his cheek.
"Of course, swee
12: Cider: JohnLock- "I want cider."
"No. You were drunk a few days ago and I don´t want you to be drunk again."
- "I want to drink it!"
"NO means NO!"
- "Give it to me!"
"I do NOT want to see you drunk again."
- "You were also drunk 2 days ago, remember?"
- "Give it. Give me the cider back!"
- "So you want to drink it on your own?!"
"Wha- no! None of us will drink today!"
- "You prefer a different "entertainment"?"
"..." Sherlock blushed a bit.
"Yes" was his whispered answer. John grinned and pulled Sherlock on the couch, kissing him.
- "Good boy ~ "
".... you´re already drunk, right...?"
- "Love you too."
14: Gingerbread: Johnlock"John, do you need something? I´ll go to the supermarket" Sherlock asked.
John looked up from his laptop.
He was suprised.
"You... go to the supermarket? YOU?!"
- "Yes... I do this. Why?"
"Well... this would be the first time you go into a shop like this."
- ".... there´s always a first time for everything."
"Ok, ok.... let´s see... I´d like to have some gingerbread."
"You asked me, I gave you an answer. So don´t complain."
- "..... fine. See you."
Sherlock left the flat and didn´t return for over one hour. John started to worry about him but then, finally, he returned.
"What happened that you were more than an hour out?" John wanted to know.
- "I helped a girl who lost her cat. We found it after 20 minutes."
"Aww, sweet." John hugged Sherlock.
"Do you have the gingerbread?"
- "Of course, and I´d like to feed you with this... ~ "
John smiled. "I exactly know where this will end ~ "
Sherlock kissed him. "And I know that you
Johnlock - Merry Christmas, SherlockIt was Christmas eve and all John wanted to do was lounge around on the couch all day. It was a very rare day, seeing as Sherlock wasn't dragging him off to some murder case, or he wasn't at work. All was perfect, his room mate was doing some experiment, the telly was switched on right in front of him. He didn't know how it could get any better than this.
He looked up at the roof absent-mindedly to find something that he hoped he wouldn't see.
He pulled out his phone and texted Sherlock.
I told you not to hang mistletoe -JW
Why not? It's a fascinating holiday tradition. -SH
Plus I wanted the excuse. -SH
I though tradition bored you JW
Other times it can be useful. -SH
Yes, useful. -SH
In what way? You do realise what the mistletoe tradition actually is, right? JW
Yes, you've got to kiss someone caught under it with you. -SH
Well, uh yes but... Wait... Do you have a girlfriend Sherlock? JW
No, haven't I told already that's not my area? -SH
Well, yeah but the m
Coming Home - Johnlock - 3/4As they travelled towards 221B, the cathartic nature of their reunion left John feeling rather drained. Despite the ever-present traffic, and the general hustle and bustle of London, sound seemed to him rather dampened, and he was only aware of hearing his own rapid heartbeat pulsing in his ears, along with the quiet, comforting whisper of Sherlock's breath. His hand was clasped so tightly around Sherlock's that it must have been causing him pain, but every time he turned his head, Sherlock's answering smile, gentle, yet wholly significant, was the only thing he saw. He rather liked this feeling; that of being completely unaware of the outside world, focused entirely on one person and one person alone. The silence was soothing, and while there would need to be words later, for the moment, John found the lack of speech a sign of understanding from the detective.
They drew up outside the familiar door with no small sense of foreboding. Both wondered what Mrs Hudson's reaction would be, a
Coming Home - Johnlock - 2/4As the gun pressed heavily into his temple, his sweat-slick finger slipped on the trigger, hand shaking like never before.
I can do this. I can. I will.
The hesitation was merely momentary. He steadied himself, thinking only of reuniting with Sherlock in whatever afterlife there may be, and took a deep breath. But before he could pull the trigger, he heard a sudden cry 'John, no!' and he was grabbed suddenly from behind, the gun wrestled away from his head. Some miserable survival instinct forced his hand, and he threw the person off, slamming them on the floor, and pointed the gun at them. He expected Mycroft, or maybe Greg, but instead he looked down to see a gaunt, white face, a mop of curly hair and pleading blue eyes.
'John,' Sherlock whispered, baritone rough with emotion, 'I'm so sorry.'
John paled, and the hand pressing Sherlock's chest to the ground clenched and unclenched in his coat fabric.
'Jesus Christ. It's happened. I've done it. I've actually gone i
Coming Home - Johnlock - 1/4Grief, in many ways, is like any other strong emotion. Fear, joy, hatred, all wax and wane, but in theory begin with a spark, an event like no other that turns you upside down with heady feeling, and changes you, at least for a while, incredibly. And yet, after a period of hours or days or weeks or months, it is expected that the emotion will begin to dissipate. That you will no longer be frightened, that you will no longer feel ecstatic, that hatred will turn to indifference. That the pain in your chest will die away. But for John Watson, an anomaly like no other, this simply was not true.
It was a Friday afternoon, three years to the day that his best friend had jumped to his death from St. Bart's hospital, and John was tired. He was sat in his usual, threadbare armchair, cradling a lukewarm cup of tea in his hands, staring across at the dusty violin that lay undisturbed in the seat across from him. The tick of the clock seemed abnormally loud and slow as John waited for an un
Johnlock - Bored to bedJohn sighed deeply and looked at the mess in the flat. Sherlock had been extremely bored lately. Not even one single case for over three weeks and John was starting to feel worried for his friend. Sherlock's new morning routine was to just walk across the room, making a pile of paper fall to the floor, and curling up like a grumpy cat in the sofa. But today was different. It was nearly noon, and no sign of Sherlock.
John walked across the papers scattered around the room and found himself standing in front of the big door to Sherlock's bedroom. He knocked on it ever so gently with his knuckles.
"Sherlock, are you alright?" he called out. From the other side of the door, he heard a mumbling answer. He sighed once again and let the door slide open.
"Sherlock, are you planning to spend the whole day in bed, or what?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Sherlock, who was lying on his side facing away from John, turned his head with his eyes still tightly closed.
"Stop bothering me,
Welcome Home - Johnlock.Sherlock picked up his phone, and typed, 'John. I'm sorry. SH'. His fingers were shaking as he pressed send.
John sat up straight, he had just dozed off in the living room after watching the News, and the buzzing of his phone in his pocket had made him jump, he unlocked his mobile phone and looked at the text.
His eyes filled with tears and took a few moments to take in the fact that his one wish could have come true. 'Sherlock. You're alive? -JW' he replied.
A few moments later, he received another message, 'That is irrelevant. You need to come pick me up. SH'
'Irrelevant?! But... Ugh. Where are you, Sherlock? JW."
'Outside a pub. Two blocks from 221B. SH'
'Why can't you get a cab? JW'
'None of them will take me, john. SH'
'No wonder! Everyone thinks you're dead! JW'
'That's not why! I may be slightly intoxicated. SH'
John sighed. Only Sherlock. He hadn't even explained how he had jumped off a building in front of him and som
Sherlock BBC: Cinema dateMany things could have been said about Sherlock Holmes, but surely nobody would call him an expert in the fields of love and dating. Those subjects remained an unsolvable riddle to him, even though his friendship with doctor Watson had changed not so long ago into something more. Sherlock, as always when in doubt, decided to consult a specialist for additional information. The paper specialist.
The detective was sprawled across the couch in a lazy pose, browsing intently through the newest issue of "Cosmopolitan" which became recently a hobby of his, much to John's dismay, since he usually fell victim to Sherlock's experiments that were as romantic as they were eccentric.
The main topic of the magazine (apart from a guide how to choose a fitting pair of high heels to your miniskirt) was how to win your crush's heart. According to the author of the article, the best way to do it was to go on an exciting date to the cinema. Sherlock found it really peculiar movies always seemed re
BBC Sherlock: Something to talk aboutSix o'clock in the morning, Saturday. A call from Lestrade. Yes, a case, come to Scotland Yard at once.
Sherlock hung up with excitement, John just groaned plaintively. Friday was hellish at the hospital and he definitely could use some rest. Watson was determined to sleep through the whole morning, no matter what. Sherlock didn't waste any time, though. He sprang out of the bed, already wide awake, and delved into his wardrobe, preparing clothes for today.
"Come on, John! Don't dawdle! The adventure awaits!" Sherlock urged him in an upbeat tone.
John covered his head with a duvet, mumbling something incoherently about the place where Sherlock could put this adventure right now and how deep. The detective rolled his eyes.
"John, you are perfectly aware that I won't back off. You're coming with me whether you like it or not," he said adamantly, folding his arms across his chest. "After all, I'm completely lost without my blogger..." He added in a kinder voice, shamelessly butter
Johnlock fluff of no specific title part 1John, I need you at Baker St. -SH
I'll be there in an hour.
I don't have an hour. -SH
Half an hour, then.
I need you here now, John. -SH
Are you hurt?
I need you to get here. -SH
Fine. I'm on my way.
John walks into the flat to find Sherlock sitting at his desk, perfectly fine. "There you are, John," he says, not turning around. "Could you pass me that pencil and paper?"
"I You want me to what?" John asks.
"I said could you pass me that pencil and paper," Sherlock says, impatient.
"You called me all the way over here to get you a pencil?" John says indignantly.
"I was on a date," John says. It took a lot of effort, but Jeanette finally agreed to give him a second chance and go to lunch with him.
"I know," sherlock says. "Could you pass me that pencil now?"
"I thought you were hurt, Sherlock!"
"And someone could be if I don't finish this case." Sherlock's voice is steady, with just a hint of impatience. "Now hand me that pencil, please."
"No, Sherlock." John is angry. H
5: Christmas Tree: JohnLock"We can´t assemble a christmas tree in our flat. It´s too small." John said while looking around. "Anyway, it´s boring. Why cutting a tree and decorate it? It looks better in a forest." Sherlock was lying on the couch - bored again. There was still no case to solve.
"But it´s a tradition to put a tree inside your flat or house and decorate it..." John sighed. "A small plant, at least? Please, Sherlock... this´d make me happy..."
Sherlock looked at his lover who had puppy eyes now. Sherlock couldn´t resist those eyes...
"Well, ok. A small plant with a small chain of lights... and more Mistle Toes. One is not enough." - "One is not enough?! Sherlock, you´re standing under this Mistle Toe once per hour! One IS enough! Also, we´re having "fun" every night in your bed, you even wake me up for this...!" John blushed a bit.
"But you like that." Sherlocked grinned.
"I´ve nothing against it, but you´re assigning me like hell... I still
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