i never figured on figuring myself out....
Um, have some drabbles?
Sherlock, John Watson/Sherlock Holmes, set in my Shapeshifters 'verse
Originally candy_belle had mentioned wanting fic where Sherlock and John were at the flat, but I couldn't do it, hun -sorry. Hopefully you'll like this anyways :) Everyone else who might read this: I'm American, so please forgive any slang or things I fuck up; also also, written on my phone so I apologize for any misspellings, etc., too.
*
Sherlock was sitting at a table in the lab at St. Bart's when he heard Stamford (human, smelled like sweat and anxiety, boring) and a set of footsteps that he didn't recognize seconds before he felt that annoying itch just under his skin that meant that there was another shapeshifter near him.
He straightened and inhaled slightly -it was cheating to use his senses like that and a mark of stupidity; even the neighborhood dogs could find a dead body by using their noses- but the presence of a strange shapeshifter meant he would alter his own rules for the moment, if only slightly.
Snow (but not ice, not the way he and Mycroft and Mum did) and cold air, the musty smell of fur, and some strange scent that his brain kept insisting meant home and want but which Sherlock knew was impossible.
Unless.
Sherlock focused on the computer screen, his body tensed as if for a fight; there was no way that his mate had just wandered in with bloody Mike Stamford of all people. The statistical likelihood of finding your mate was astronomical- and that was assuming one believed in mates in the first place, which Sherlock did not.
When they entered the room, he looked up he met the other man's startled eyes and Sherlock knew he had just met his mate.
Mycroft would never let him forget this.
Bandom, Pete/Patrick, Dragonriders of Pern fusion
*
P'te sat on the beach, watching King fly over the water, the mid-afternoon sun glancing off her hide, making the gold scales flash different colors briefly before they settled into her normal, warm color.
Trying to get the dolphin's to talk to you? P'te teased, not bothering to hide his chuckle when his dragon grumbled. I told you that the water's still too cold for them.
You never know, King insisted, just as she had earlier when they first arrived.
Before he could say anything else, they saw another dragon come from Between.
Vaughn, King told him, her voice as happy as the loud thrill that she let spill out of her throat. And P'trick, she added because she was fond of the brown's rider.
Which was strange, P'te reflected as he watched Vaughn fly closer to where he was still sitting. King didn't like many people, riders or no.
Vaughn will fly me, King said as the brown dropped P'trick off on the sand next to her rider before swooping out to join the queen over the waves. I will not accept anything else.
Me, either, P'te assured her as he grinned at the other rider as P'trick settled next to him with an answering smile.
P'trick and Vaughn are it for us. P'te told King and smirked to himself when she agreed readily.
He let himself relax against P'trick's side, content to sut here with his weyrmate and watch their dragons play.