Sherlock advent stories- Dec. 1: Snow
I want to try and do this properly and write a short story each day for the month of December. With Sherlock season 3 coming Jan. 1 I figured it was fitting to do that fandom. I haven't really written John and Sherlock, so it may take a few stories before I get the hang of them. As usual any mistakes are mine.
and once the damn archiveofourown site is running again I will have it posted there as well. EDIT: Here is the link to AO3
Title: Snow
fandom: Sherlock
rating: K (for now)
characters: Sherlock, John, Lestrade
warnings: none
a/n: I'm not giving any sort of summary since the ficlets will be connected but not necessarily in order. I hope this works out the way I kinda have it planned
SNOW
John could not remember the last time it had been below freezing so early in December, and it was his luck that it happened to be the same night that he had been dragged out of the flat without his warm wooly hat. Sherlock was buzzing around the frozen body of a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with a gunshot wound.
“What do you see John?” the detective's deep voiced rumbled through the frosty air. The army doctor moved closer to inspect the body, but he knew there were minute details he would miss that Sherlock's keen gazed never overlooked.
“Sniper,” John began as he squatted next to the young man. Sherlock hummed in agreement but said nothing as he motioned for him to continue. “He must be someone of importance for that type of kill, but he's too young to be involved in politics so he must be the son of an important government official.”
“So far so good,” Sherlock acknowledged as he showed the blonde man a wallet. “His name is Daniel Hamilton.”
“As in Lord Hamilton?” John asked. The man had been in the news lately under suspicion about his involvement in some sort of gambling ring. It was not surprising to see things had escalated, but Sherlock did not even know who the Prime Minister was, let alone some bloke from the House of Lords.
“The very same, John,” the detective pocketed the wallet. If Sherlock knew who Hamilton was, then it was not just a gambling problem the man had.
“What are you not telling me?” John asked quietly. Sherlock froze even as his face remained impassive. Around them the crime scene became still but the detective inspector tried to keep the other officers busy. “And before you even think about lying to me, I know you are keeping secrets and have been for a while, but that is your decision and I respect it. This, however, is a case and I need to know the details because I do not see the obvious and that sometimes makes it a bit difficult to keep you safe.” John let out a deep breath and squared his shoulders before turning away from the dark haired man. Sherlock kept his distance, but the doctor could feels his eyes like they were burning through his clothing. He rarely snapped at the younger man, but Sherlock had been pushing closer and closer to his snapping point and John didn't want to get that far because sometimes there was no going back.
“John,” the detective started but there was only silence that followed the faint sound of his name. John's shoulders slumped just as he felt the first few snowflakes begin to fall. It was all so fitting.
“I'm going home Sherlock. You can go on the chase, but I am done.” John had yet to look at Sherlock and he wanted to keep it that way. The snow was falling heavier and sticking to the cold hard ground and the dead body of Daniel Hamilton. Before anyone could stop him he was walking away from the crime scene and toward the open road to get a cab back to Baker Street. A nice cuppa sounded just lovely and Mrs. Hudson would still be awake so he wouldn't have to be alone. Perhaps they could watch the first snowfall of the season together because he would not let the fact that usually he and Sherlock did that guilt him into missing it altogether.
and once the damn archiveofourown site is running again I will have it posted there as well. EDIT: Here is the link to AO3
Title: Snow
fandom: Sherlock
rating: K (for now)
characters: Sherlock, John, Lestrade
warnings: none
a/n: I'm not giving any sort of summary since the ficlets will be connected but not necessarily in order. I hope this works out the way I kinda have it planned
SNOW
John could not remember the last time it had been below freezing so early in December, and it was his luck that it happened to be the same night that he had been dragged out of the flat without his warm wooly hat. Sherlock was buzzing around the frozen body of a young man, perhaps in his mid-twenties, with a gunshot wound.
“What do you see John?” the detective's deep voiced rumbled through the frosty air. The army doctor moved closer to inspect the body, but he knew there were minute details he would miss that Sherlock's keen gazed never overlooked.
“Sniper,” John began as he squatted next to the young man. Sherlock hummed in agreement but said nothing as he motioned for him to continue. “He must be someone of importance for that type of kill, but he's too young to be involved in politics so he must be the son of an important government official.”
“So far so good,” Sherlock acknowledged as he showed the blonde man a wallet. “His name is Daniel Hamilton.”
“As in Lord Hamilton?” John asked. The man had been in the news lately under suspicion about his involvement in some sort of gambling ring. It was not surprising to see things had escalated, but Sherlock did not even know who the Prime Minister was, let alone some bloke from the House of Lords.
“The very same, John,” the detective pocketed the wallet. If Sherlock knew who Hamilton was, then it was not just a gambling problem the man had.
“What are you not telling me?” John asked quietly. Sherlock froze even as his face remained impassive. Around them the crime scene became still but the detective inspector tried to keep the other officers busy. “And before you even think about lying to me, I know you are keeping secrets and have been for a while, but that is your decision and I respect it. This, however, is a case and I need to know the details because I do not see the obvious and that sometimes makes it a bit difficult to keep you safe.” John let out a deep breath and squared his shoulders before turning away from the dark haired man. Sherlock kept his distance, but the doctor could feels his eyes like they were burning through his clothing. He rarely snapped at the younger man, but Sherlock had been pushing closer and closer to his snapping point and John didn't want to get that far because sometimes there was no going back.
“John,” the detective started but there was only silence that followed the faint sound of his name. John's shoulders slumped just as he felt the first few snowflakes begin to fall. It was all so fitting.
“I'm going home Sherlock. You can go on the chase, but I am done.” John had yet to look at Sherlock and he wanted to keep it that way. The snow was falling heavier and sticking to the cold hard ground and the dead body of Daniel Hamilton. Before anyone could stop him he was walking away from the crime scene and toward the open road to get a cab back to Baker Street. A nice cuppa sounded just lovely and Mrs. Hudson would still be awake so he wouldn't have to be alone. Perhaps they could watch the first snowfall of the season together because he would not let the fact that usually he and Sherlock did that guilt him into missing it altogether.