Fic Rec: Phantom Vibrations
Title: Phantom Vibrations
Author: camerasparring
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 2300
Rating: Teen
Warnings: none
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: John knows exactly how Sherlock functions. Sherlock constantly needs to know where John is.
Reccer's comments: This is a lovely little fic that really highlights how much John is looking and looking out for Sherlock. I love the little snippets that show the progression between the two of them, and the end! the end is perfect.
Excerpt:
No matter how routine this all is, John still finds himself unable to avoid anxiety after twenty-four hours. He can’t pin down whether he’s concerned that Sherlock will silently starve, quarantined away in his own mind, or whether it’s some sort of Sherlock-contact-withdrawal. He hopes for the former, as his online perusing has left him unable to find meetings for those addicted to charmingly insane consulting detectives.
When he feels a vibration, relief floods him.
The lorry driver has a parrot. Where are you? SH
John shakes his head. Thirty-four hours, fifteen minutes. That one was worrisome.
Shop. Headed home. He texts back. As soon as he hits send, John abandons the milk in the veggie aisle and all but runs out the door. Sherlock, no doubt, has already been speaking aloud to him for some time. He wouldn’t want to miss too much.
Author: camerasparring
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Length: 2300
Rating: Teen
Warnings: none
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: John knows exactly how Sherlock functions. Sherlock constantly needs to know where John is.
Reccer's comments: This is a lovely little fic that really highlights how much John is looking and looking out for Sherlock. I love the little snippets that show the progression between the two of them, and the end! the end is perfect.
Excerpt:
No matter how routine this all is, John still finds himself unable to avoid anxiety after twenty-four hours. He can’t pin down whether he’s concerned that Sherlock will silently starve, quarantined away in his own mind, or whether it’s some sort of Sherlock-contact-withdrawal. He hopes for the former, as his online perusing has left him unable to find meetings for those addicted to charmingly insane consulting detectives.
When he feels a vibration, relief floods him.
The lorry driver has a parrot. Where are you? SH
John shakes his head. Thirty-four hours, fifteen minutes. That one was worrisome.
Shop. Headed home. He texts back. As soon as he hits send, John abandons the milk in the veggie aisle and all but runs out the door. Sherlock, no doubt, has already been speaking aloud to him for some time. He wouldn’t want to miss too much.