I'd really like to see a kind of Hurt Locker AU (except set in Afghanistan) where Sherlock diffuses bombs and solves military problems and John is the doctor who tags along to patch him up when things inevitably explode. Bonus points for plot! Any pairing is fine. I just really want to see Sherlock working on diffusing a bomb.
OP: This fic is currently 9 pages long and there isn't much of a plot. I guess I just went crazy with it. Also, it might be getting quite S/J-ish, but I'm not sure yet.
So it might not at all be what you asked for, but it's been quite fun to write, and I wish to thank you for finally getting me back into writing :) We'll see how it ends up, but I believe I will have to actually post a link to the fic in my journal eventually, since it got so long.
Holmes is on the ground, looking at the IED. He's calm and focused and there is nothing in the world besides him and the bomb. He sees the cables going from the home-made piece of shit to the hole in the road, where the pressure plate is buried. He knows what to do and he knows he does it fast. He's aware his team hates it when he does that; they've all been taught to take it easy, to not stress things. Sgt Sherlock ”Crazy” Holmes isn't stressing things, he knows these things, he can feel them and read them, he knows what needs to be done. The bomb isn't more than a puzzle that needs to be solved. That's why he's usually the one they send forward when the RCV isn't enough, because he doesn't care about the reasons behind this bomb, his mind isn't full of Talibans and evil-doers; it's just him, and the bomb
( ... )
It's a few evenings later when John has the time to go to the small library and once again surf through TV-shows. It's nothing on so he decides to pick something from the shelf with DVDs. He finds some old Doctor Who (the fifth doctor, he realises), pops the disc in and crashes on the couch. It's only an episode later when Sgt. Holmes enters. He looks a bit surprised, as does John. ”Uhm, hi Sergeant,” John says. ”Doctor,” the man gives him a nod before sitting down in his chair, a new book in hand this time, ”and please, say Sherlock.” For some reason, John knows this isn't an invitation to a more friendly approach with each other, it's just a statement. Sherlock has hung his jacket over the arm of the chair
( ... )
John is shocked. He's never told anyone about Harry's drinking problems, he doesn't even want to acknowledge it himself sometimes. And here is Sgt. Sherlock ”Crazy” Holmes of the EOD-team telling him everything he didn't want to know himself about his life
( ... )
It becomes a new ritual, their breakfasts. John isn't sure Sherlock ever ate with his team, before John. But now they always meet up if they're both on camp (sometimes John gets to leave base, either on a shorter patrol or in an ambulance when they need to pick up wounded soldiers near Bastion and sometimes Sherlock is on a long range). It's one of John's favourite times of the day, he soon realises. Sherlock is telling him everything he never wanted to know about the other people at Bastion, just by looking at them, and John is constantly amazed. He soon realises Sherlock enjoys his looks of wonder. He pretty soon also realises Sherlock doesn't seem to have many friends. He doubts Sherlock considers him a friend, but he's not willing to test it. He hasn't made any friends here either, really. John is usually just a nice guy, a good doctor but he hasn't been interested in getting to know his co-workers. He knows the basic things about them, he can make a good conversation and is definitely invited to play poker, grab a beer at the
( ... )
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It would certainly explain why Moriarty is so attracted to him :-)
"You and me and Semtex, Sherlock - it was meant to be!"
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So it might not at all be what you asked for, but it's been quite fun to write, and I wish to thank you for finally getting me back into writing :) We'll see how it ends up, but I believe I will have to actually post a link to the fic in my journal eventually, since it got so long.
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”Uhm, hi Sergeant,” John says.
”Doctor,” the man gives him a nod before sitting down in his chair, a new book in hand this time, ”and please, say Sherlock.” For some reason, John knows this isn't an invitation to a more friendly approach with each other, it's just a statement. Sherlock has hung his jacket over the arm of the chair ( ... )
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