whiitewalker

There was something weird going on with Sherlock. He barely talked to me anymore, hadn't touched his violin in at least 2 weeks, was almost always somewhere else, rejected every case Lestrade offered him. It was weird. I was worried about him. Sherlock was about to go somewhere, when I stopped him. 'What's going on Sherlock?' I asked him. He ignored me. I grabbed his arm and turned him to look at me. 'Sherlock! What is wrong?' I asked. He looked at me with a pained expression. I frowned. 'What's wrong?' I asked again. He sighed and looked at his feet. Then he looked up at me again and did something I hadn't expected at all. He kissed me.

John had always considered Sherlock's oddness as a given, but the word earned a new meaning one cold February morning. Sherlock had been sitting at his laptop since, and quite probably long before, John had awoken, staring blindly at his laptop, the homepage of his website- The Science of Deduction- glowing faintly on the screen. Every so often he would mutter something that John couldn't make out, and his left leg would nervously bounce up and down a few times before coming to a rest again. When John touched his shoulder in an attempt to rouse him and offer him some tea, Sherlock leapt to his feet and snapped his laptop shut; though it sti

"Sorry Sir, we can't let you past here." "Don't worry, he's with me." Sherlock reached out and lifted the the crime scene tape for me to duck under. I nodded a thanks and followed him across the street to the house in question. We were working with new recruits, people who had only heard rumours of Sherlock's genius, and a few looks were tossed our way as we entered the building. I followed him closely, and we ascending the stairs, although Sherlock had more of a skip in his step than I did, so I lagged behind. He entered the room, and was already throwing around conclusions and analysis results before I entered the room. Watching him wor

John awoke to a soft rattling from downstairs, his eyes feeling heavy as he forced them opened. He'd just gotten to sleep not even a few hours ago and he'd thought Sherlock had gone to sleep aswell, but apparently not. Getting from his bed, he slipped on his robe and tying it loosely around his abdomen, letting it hang off his shirtless frame. "For Gods sake." He murmured, blinking slowly as he descended down the stairs and looked around for the sound which was getting louder and louder. It sounded like a rustle and then a small thump, over and over. "Sherlock?" He asked, rubbing his eyes as he looked around the empty living room. "Are you aw

Titel: JohnLock Author: me Genre: romance i guess? Rating: PG Author's note: this is 100% fictional 'John, have you seen my phone?' Sherlock asked me. I looked up and frowned. 'Why?' I asked. He never used his phone. 'Because I need it' He said while throwing stuff everywhere and making a mess of the apartement. I sighed. 'It's on the table' I said. He threw everything off the table and found his phone by hearing a soft tud when it landed on the floor. He picked it up and started tapping away. It looked like he was doing something hard, because he had a kind of pained expression on his face. I thought about what he could be doing,

"Sherlock, I don't understand." John Watson looks at his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes, deeply in the eyes. "What's there not to understand, John?" Sherlock seems to pin John in his place with his gaze. "You said that..." John looks down at his feet, not knowing where else to go with that statement. "That, I did, John, and what's your answer?" He stares down at the ex-army doctor. "Yes." John looks up at his friend and bites his lip. "Yes?" Sherlock looks at him, a slightly amused expression on his face. "Yes. Why did you ask me, out of anyone you know you asked me. Why?" "Because I know you...and I trust you." John smiles at Sherlock. "