Welcome! (Prompting: part i)
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
This is a fic prompting meme based around the BBC series Sherlock, written by Stephen Moffat & Mark Gattis.
( Read more... )
Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
This is a fic prompting meme based around the BBC series Sherlock, written by Stephen Moffat & Mark Gattis.
( Read more... )
Someone was after him.
John stopped walking and strained his ears but he heard nothing, no one except for passing cars and fighting alley cats. He should have taken a cab, the doctor decided. But he barely had any money on him and certainly not enough to pay for a cab ride all the way to Sarah’s. So, he had settled for a walk. A walk would be nice, clear his head, and get the stress of Sherlock’s case out of it. Get the fact that maybe Sherlock was emotionless after all out of his head. Now he was regretting his decision. This case was different from the others. Sherlock was more frustrated then enthralled (still enthralled, however) and that was enough to make John worry. And wasn’t it, in the movies, when two people separate something bad always happens to the less important character?
John was definitely the less important character in this story, if you compared him to Sherlock anyway. For all he knew an axe wielding psycho was hiding in the alley five feet from him. So then why wasn’t he stopping? Why wasn’t he turning around right here, right now? That would be the smart choice. That would the choice some one in his position should make. John Watson wasn’t stupid but, sadly, he had this attraction to danger he just couldn’t brush off. It was why he went to war, why he was so drawn to Sherlock Holmes.
“Freeze.”
And John did, almost automatically, like he had been expecting the voice to come from behind him. Hell, he was expecting it.
“Good, Johnny Boy, you’re a smart one.”
John felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to the nape of his neck. Oddly enough he wasn’t scared. “What do you want?” He paused, “Please don’t tell me you think I’m Sherlock Holmes?” He had enough of someone making that mistake, thanks. If this unknown attacker- stalker- thought he was Sherlock he would clear it up now.
The man behind him laughed, his laugh was chilling and slightly insane. “You? Sherlock Holmes? Please only an idiot wouldn’t be able to see the difference. Sherlock would have known I was following him the moment he left his flat.” The voice lowered and John felt lips brush his ear, “You’re Doctor John Watson, war vet. You have a limp from being shot in your leg… you were also shot in the shoulder. Need I go on?”
“No,” John mused, his voice still steady, “I’ve had enough of someone deducing my problems, thanks.”
“Deducing? I’m not deducing! I’ve just read your file dear boy, that’s all! Not to mention your little blog.”
“A fan then?”
“Not of you. Now, stop with this incessant chatter, it bores me.” As he spoke a van rolled up. Black, no windows. John could practically hear Sherlock say “Dull”. The thought almost made him smile. Almost. “Get inside the van John.”
“And if I don’t you’ll shoot me right?”
“Very good! Now up you go!” The man more like pushed John in the van then helped him, and before he could get his bearings two men grabbed either of him and lifted him up just to force him to sit on what John believed to be a milk crate. “Forgive the mess, my limo is in the shop.” John expected the men on either side of him to blind him but they didn’t so he got a good eye full of his capture. He looked familiar… so very…
“Jim?”
Suddenly his voice changed, “Yes! Jim- How are you? Sherlock never did call me.” He lost his falsetto, gay voice then, “James actually, James Moriarty.” Moriarty. Sherlock was right.
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go on! I'm excited to read more!!
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Moriarty laughed, “Bait? Oh no! He doesn’t need bait, Johnny Boy. Sherlock comes when I call.” He smiled, “He’s probably on his way there already…”
“Where?”
“You’ll see.” Then Moriarty turned away, suddenly digging in a black box. When he sat up he had a jacket with fur trim in his arms, bombs clearly attached to it. Ah, now he was catching on. “You see, I was planning on making you put this on and sending you in there. Sherlock has gotten awfully attached to you, I don’t see what makes you such a good pet or why he’s suddenly taking in strays but, nonetheless, he has.” Moriarty frowned suddenly, examining the jacket. “But then I got a wonderful idea. A wonderfully dreadful idea.” He grinned wickedly and that, finally, pushed some dread into John.
“He cares about you, that man, so hurting you would hurt him more then actually, physically hurting him… understand?” John, for some reason, nodded even though he really didn't. “I contemplated raping you- oh he’d hate that. I’d rape you and leave you there in a whimpering pile- Oh maybe do it in front of him?” Okay now John was afraid. The man didn’t have the tone of someone who was bluffing or simply trying to scare him. He was literally explaining ideas he’s had, excitedly too. “But that is so incredibly… expected.”
“So is the bomb!” Moriarty suddenly announced, voice loud. “It’s hard to be unexpected around Sherlock, very hard, but I try. And that’s why I came up with an even better idea!” He gasped like a little girl, obviously proud of whatever idea this was. John didn’t like it.
“You, Johnny Boy, you’re going to be me.” John must have had a confused look on his face because the psycho before him let out a frustrated sound, “Unexpected! Who is the one person Sherlock trusts, despite only knowing him for a month or so? You, Dr. Watson! Now, what would be the one turn of events that he wouldn’t expect?!” Moriarty met John’s gaze and grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “You! You not being you! You being me!” He laughed, throwing his hands up in the air, “It would break him, my dear, to think you were me, to think you betrayed him.” Moriarty leaned back against the side of the moving van, a proud look on his face.
“Do you understand?”
John just nodded, again. Then, slowly, he found his voice. “And why would I do that?”
“Because I won’t kill him.” He was smiling again. He seemed to always be smiling, John noted grimly. Glad someone found this amusing. “He’s your weakness just like you’re his! And if you don’t do what I instruct I will kill him. I will stand there and watch him burn- you will as well. But, if you do as I say I will let him go. We will leave and all will be well.” John locked gazes with the man in front of him and he knew, despite Moriarty’s happy behavior and amused tone he was serious. John ultimately had no choice. Either way Sherlock would be hurt- if Moriarty was right and he did care about John- but at least this way he’d still be alive.
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that makes me happy~
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“Fine.”
The driver got out and opened the van door just in time for Moriarty to fly out with a happy skip in his step, turning in a circle, gun still in his gloved hand. The men on either side of John grabbed him by his arms and forced him out of the van. Moriarty gestured for them to let go and they did. John glanced to his right and watched as the three man each grabbed sniper rifles and left them. When he looked back at Moriarty the man was all smiles. Still, he did not speak and, instead, focused on digging something out of his pocket, eyes still on John.
“Can you act?” John frowned and Moriarty sighed, “Have you ever acted? Sherlock won’t believe you if you don’t seem sincere.” He pressed the gun to John’s side and prodded him until the doctor reluctantly headed for the back door. He felt him put something cool in his ear, before he heard Moriarty go back to digging in his pockets. He reemerged with what looked like a walkie-talkie. “I’ll deliver you your lines, don’t worry about that. And keep this side of your head angled away from Sherlock or he’ll spot the ear piece and know you’re lying. If he figures it out I kill him, remember that, so if you can’t act I suggest you learn quickly.”
Moriarty smiled and stepped back, looking John over like he was a project. Some how, the doctor found his voice even though he felt sick, “Gun?”
“What?”
“Gun- I doubt I’m going to be very scary without a weapon.” Moriarty gave him a look like “I’m-not-stupid” but John shook his head, “You can empty it just-“
“No need! Thanks for your input, Johnny Boy, but you won’t need one. Sherlock will have one most likely but he won’t use it on you, I’ll even be surprised if he brings it out. He’ll be too surprised you’re me… and heart broken.” The man flounced away and in to what looked like to be a pool house locker room. John froze, realizing he could make a run for it now. Before he could though, Moriarty was back, standing at the door way, gun aimed at his heart.
“Uh-uh-uh, Johnny, don’t even think about running away, I’d hate to shoot you.” So, John obeyed, mentally swearing at the psycho as he followed him through the locker room and too the pool.
Apparently someone told him something in his own ear piece because Moriarty straightened before his eyes glowed, “Oh, he’s arrived. I’ll be over here, hide right there and don’t come out until I tell you too. And remember, sell it or I kill him.” Then, Moriarty bounced away and behind a wall. John found himself walking to hide behind a door before he even realized what he was doing. There was silence up until the sound of a door opening echoed through out the room. It closed and the only sound left was the soft pad of foot steps.
Sherlock.
The foot steps stopped and John could practically see Sherlock making a circle, taking in the scene, every detail, everything. “I brought you a little getting to know you present.” And there was his voice. Closing his eyes, John took in a breath. “That’s what it’s all been for, isn’t it?” No, Sherlock, just leave. Leave. Leave. “All your little puzzles, making me dance. All to distract me from this.”
”Go now John.” The voice in John’s ear almost made him jump but he managed to composed himself, ”Angle your head away from him, remember that.” And, with out further instruction from Moriarty, John took a breath and stepped forward, moving around the door and making himself known.
Sherlock saw him instantly and he froze, hand still in mid air. Mentally John dreaded what was about to happen but he kept his face impassive. And with as little emotion as possible John started this charade.
“Evening.”
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WELL there's number uno, I hope it's up to standards.
Next part will be in Sherlock's POV or whatever.
I'll get it up as soon as possible~
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(sorry I'm kind of acting like a crazy fangirl)
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Psssssh, honey I'm sure we're all crazy fan girls, it's okay.
<3
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A leg clinger!
[/shakes]
Well... thank you xD
Nah, I'm kidding you can stay attached as long as you want!
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