But Sherlock/Watson is quickly becoming my OTP.
What is this.
(The new Sherlock was fantastic but Irene Adler why you all up in my OTP. I do not approve.)
Even Geniuses Need SleepA figure was hunched over the table, silhouetted by the light beside him. A pen hovered over the mass of papers spread out before him; his icy eyes stared, searching for something. Abruptly he sprang into action, whipping a sheet out from the mess (sending several pages fluttering down around him, but he took no notice) and scribbling furiously in a cramped, spidery hand. His eyes squinted with effort, although he didn't seem to notice. There was a feverish pitch to his work - his movements were too jerky and rushed, his face too intent, his eyes jumping from point to point, apparently unable to settle.Even Geniuses Need Sleep by dragoncharmed
A second figure saw all of this from the doorway and couldn't stand it. "You should be in bed."
The man at the table seemed to ignore him, but after several seconds he jerked to attention, swinging his head toward the door as if he'd only just processed that someone was there. "Bed?" he scoffed. "I don't need to sleep. Do you know how much time people waste sleeping? A third of their li
Doesn't Follow Me EverywhereSummary: "He doesn't follow me everywhere, you know." ~John Watson, ASiBDoesn't Follow Me Everywhere by JanecShannon
Oh, silly Jawn... Of course he does (what with your penchant for getting kidnapped...)
"And the beans?"
"I'll get them."
Afterward, John says he doesn't remember what happened. He was walking to Sarah's then the next thing he knew he was in a changing cubicle at the pool and being told through an earpiece to go out and greet the detective. Any deviation from the words he's told to say would result in death.
But Sherlock can spot a lie when he sees one. John's always had one of those faces that seems to show every thought that passes through his head, but for once Sherlock had to look elsewhere for the truth (not that it took all that much extra effort but he couldn't decide whether he was delighted that John was actually able to hide something from him or... was he disappointed?... that John felt the need to). None of the injuries were fatal, or even particularly risky. He pointed them all out to Joh
Welcome to WonderlandEngland falls, a downwards plummeting sensation that is brought abruptly to a halt when he hits plush, plum-coloured carpet. And there, in front of him, settled in a ghastly blue floral armchair, dressed in a pink shirt and darker sweater, a wild grin on his lips, sits the mad hatter. “Hello. Care for some tea?”Welcome to Wonderland by SparxFlame
He stares, and stares, for maybe a minute or more, and then gets to his feet. “Where am I?”
The mad hatter giggles. “Wonderland, of course. Care for some tea?” And with those seven words, he has won round one.
The walls of the room are covered in more flowers, the kind found in the lounges of crazy cat ladies, but it’s mainly covered by mirrors, hundreds of them, glittering and glinting in the corner of England’s vision. The effect is disconcerting, and he has to stop turning to look at movements in his peripheral vision that are nothing more than his reflection. “Who are you?” He frowns at the mad hatter.