Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (19/?)tawabidsJune 10 2011, 02:37:10 UTC
John served a small spoonful of ice cream for Hamish and let Geoff lead him upstairs by holding the bowl just out of reach until they got into the top bedroom. Once the door was shut, Sherlock finally removed his coat and sat down at the kitchen table, his legs crossed and one arm draped over the back of the chair.
“So is this the part where we sit down and talk about our relationship and decide we need to communicate more? You lay out your grievances, I point all the ways this has been building up for years and then we decide it’ll be better for the boys’ development if they’re not raised in a household riddled with underlying tension and resentment, so, we make plans to visit a lawyer and arrange the splitting of our assets and a custody agreement we’re both happy with. Probably you taking Hamish and me taking the wolf pack for the weekdays and then swapping over on weekends. We’re both sensible, we’ll put the needs of the boys first,” he finished his monotone speech with a quick tap of his nails on the wooden surface. “How did I do?”
John chewed on the inside of his cheek. He entwined his fingers and set them on the table in front of him. Then he said, “I don’t want to stay at Baker Street-“
Sherlock gave a derisive snort, and John shot him a look that made him keep his mouth shut. He continued, “I don’t think we should stay at Baker Street. It’s too small. The boys should have their own rooms, and we’re too close to town here. Drunks and unsavoury characters whooping outside the window every Saturday night, it’s not healthy. We need to move.”
Sherlock was staring at him. After a moment he said, “Where do… we… get the money for this?”
“Well, for starters, I’m going to go back to work,” John said. “Full-time, too, I hated having to balance half-and-half when Murray was little and Geoff was just starting school. There’s good day-cares we can get subsidised for.”
“You don’t believe in day-care.”
“Yeah, well, I don't believe in television, but that doesn't make DVD players a crime,” John chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe I have been too… over-protective. For a long time. Or maybe I'm just addicted to my kids. I think you know how that feels.”
Sherlock said nothing for a few seconds, then he asked, “I meant it, what I said. I don’t want my sons being raised in an unhappy household where the parents secretly dislike each other.”
“Didn’t do me any harm,” John retorted.
“I didn’t say it did.”
“Then can I do a bit of deducting of my own?” John asked, cocking his head. “Because I don’t think you expected this. When you saw me standing there with my bag you were caught by surprise. I know you, I know your face and your voice, Sherlock. You had no idea I felt that way. Now I’m not spiteful enough to be offended by that, or so arrogant as to think that I can hide my feelings from you. But I do think it means you weren’t looking for the signs. And if you weren’t looking for the signs, it was because you didn’t want to see them. You don’t want this to be the end of us. You’re as much in love with me as you were that day by the pool,” he leaned forward. “How did I do?”
Sherlock folded his arms, an odd gesture for him, and looked at hands of the man sitting across the table from him as if they could reveal the final clue that would bring the solution into reach. Then his eyes flicked up to meet John’s and said quietly. "Spot on, John.”
“Good,” John leaned back and slapped the table with his palm. “Now we need to talk about grievances and better communication. Things are going to change around here, Mr Holmes.”
---
Only a couple more parts to go! I know Sherlock might come off as a prick here, but in fact I think Sherlock is a prick and John loves him anyway.
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (19/?)methimyesterdayJune 11 2011, 07:31:18 UTC
omg THIS FIC.... I had never cried so much over a fic before... but your fill is the sweetest, most beautiful thing i've ever read.
It's awesome, amazingly well-written, all your characters are so compelling, and it's so sad, and hard, and lovely at the same time. And John... ajdsnjkadbadjahbdab your John omg my heart aches of how much love I have for that bamf, tender, adorable, strong John. Things like these lines: “Okay, Geoff, don’t worry,” John stood up as quietly as he could, reaching for his pants in the neat pile of clothes he’d left in the corner. He began to put them on one-handed, then held the phone with his cheek to pull them up fully. The movement stretched the bad shoulder, which gave a warning throb. “Go into our room, wake Daddy and tell him what you just told me, but stay on the line. I’m getting dressed right now.” and "His hands were not shaking.", or "John, feeling argumentative and grouchy, didn’t answer. But the retort at the tip of his tongue was, I never wanted a nice guy. I only ever wanted him." JUST GIVE ME ALL THE FEELINGS. And all the scenes when they are trying to find Murray, in that car that "was a good size for Watsons but not so much for anyone taller. Sherlock, in the passenger seat, practically had his knees around his ears." (oh LOL) (ajhsbdajdbadsa and this: "They were in a quiet street bordered by rows of tall terrace houses, too narrow for a U-turn. John glanced in his mirrors and then executed a perfect hand-brake donut and sped off the way they come. Geoffrey yelped and then broke into gales of laughter." BAMFdad!John is the best thing ever) Oh well, actually I could quote your entire fic, every line, every word is pure touching, vivid, true beauty. Sorry for this incoherent comment, but you've melted my heart, and obviously, my brain too. I can't wait for more!!!!!!!!!! And now a question, have you written more fics in this fandom? I've seen this link (http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/9100.html?thread=42288780#t42288780), and i'll read the fic now, but really (hope it doesn't sound too creepy) i'd love to read everything you've written in the Sherlock fandom! You don't have to link me to your anon fills if you don't want it, but if you've posted more fics with your name, it would make me the happiest girl on the earth if you could tell me where, because i couldn't find them in your livejournal. THANK YOU, AND THANK YOUR FOR BEING WRITING THIS AMAZING FIC.
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (19/?)tawabidsJune 11 2011, 12:15:50 UTC
Gosh thank you! *squirms* I don't know what to say! Except you're welcome!
I haven't written anything for this fandom outside the meme, and all of my fills are from part 15 onwards, so they should be in the filled prompts post if you search my username. I might have filled a couple of things anon when I was starting? But I'm pretty sure they were rubbish.
I know I should tidy my fills up and post them on my lj or at one of the comms, but right now I kind of like just filling things freely. Maybe in a while ;)
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (19/?)tawabidsJune 11 2011, 23:14:08 UTC
Ok, I admit it, it's because... I am Sherlock. Yes, everything I write here is autobiographical. Don't ask me how they're consistent with each other, Sherlock knows best!
I love the anon's pictures in that fill, omg. Most gratifying thing ever.
Doctor, Detective and Sons (21/?)tawabidsJune 11 2011, 23:28:55 UTC
Finally, John gets to have the last word. Thank you to everyone who's been reading!
---
Poor Mrs Hudson. She had tried to be positive while wishing them well, but she was really going to miss them. John had promised he would bring the boys around to visit when he could, but he knew their lives were hectic so that might not be as often and Mrs Hudson would like. Hamish, who was now almost three and a half, hugged her leg and promised her that when he was old enough he would marry her so she wouldn’t have to live on her own.
They were moving the first load into the new house, a two-storey, weatherboard villa that they’d gotten cheap because it needed new carpets, fresh paint and a lot of work in the kitchen to bring it out of the twentieth century. They hadn’t thought they’d be able to afford the deposit by a long shot, and Mycroft stepping in and offering to pay it had nearly sent Sherlock through the roof (“No, you do NOT get to offer us CHARITY, you CONDESCENDING OAF!”). Eventually a friend of Sherlock who John hadn’t met before, who had spent two years in jail before Sherlock exonerated him, had found them a better deal with the bank he worked for.
Geoffrey and Murray were already fighting over which room they got. John sighed and marched upstairs to break up what sounded like it was rapidly descending into a violent brawl. Sherlock conveniently didn’t follow until John had already scolded Geoffrey for putting his brother in a headlock, “Don’t ever, ever cut off his breathing, Geoff, you could kill him,” and Geoffrey had given his defence, “He bit me! Look! I’m bleeding!”
They ate takeaway souvlakis over a painting sheet on the floor that night, because all the big furniture would be coming by truck the next day. As he was polishing his off, Murray asked quietly, “Dad, do you ever think you’ll leave again?”
John glanced at Sherlock. The wolf pack had not asked much about that particular hiccough in the year or so since it had taken place. John and Sherlock had tried to explain it to them at one point soon after the fact, but the boys hadn’t seemed too interested in the details. Their parents just kept their fingers crossed that their sons hadn’t taken anything to heart.
“Well,” John cleared his throat and lowered his souvlaki. “I don’t want to, not at all. So I hope not.”
“Things have been different since then,” Murray said vaguely.
“Good kind of different?” John asked.
“I guess so.”
“Why were you unhappy?” Geoffrey cut in.
Sherlock was watching John very closely now. John thought about it. “Everybody does things other people don’t like, even best friends. I guess instead of telling Daddy when he was doing something I didn’t like, I sat on it and let it bother me. I don’t just put Sherlock in a headlock like you do when Murray annoys you.”
Murray giggled, but Geoffrey’s intense, interrogative expression didn’t change. “But why didn’t you tell him?”
John cleared his throat. “Because I have trust issues,” he said finally. “I’ve had them for a long time, before I even met Daddy. The only time I ever really trusted someone before Daddy was when I was in the war, when it was other soldiers. So maybe I thought that if I categorised everything all ship-shape like in the army, and if I withstood whatever life threw at me like a stoic soldier-Dad, then everything would work out. So I followed all the rules I’d put in my head, and treated this family like it was my job and my duty and like Sherlock was my commander. Which is such a stupid thing to do. Since then I’ve tried to treat you less like that, and more like Sherlock and my two mini-Sherlocks. There’s no rules for that, it’s never been done before, but that’s why I love it.”
“Sherlock-John hybrids,” Sherlock corrected him.
“Hybrid spawn,” added Geoffrey.
“Alright, Sherlock-John Hybrid Spawn,” John laughed. “But you’re also my Murray and my Geoff. Completely different from anything that’s come before. No rules. So now I’m figuring things out as I go along.”
Geoff seemed satisfied at that. He smiled at his fathers and went back to his dinner.
Doctor, Detective and Sons (22/22)tawabidsJune 11 2011, 23:31:31 UTC
The wolf pack and the youngest cub were asleep on mattresses and sleeping bags in their new rooms (Hamish was in Geoffrey’s room for now, since he had never been on his own at night). Sherlock and John were wandering around their new abode with the lights off, trying to decide how their meagre furniture was going to fill up all the new space. John was convinced it didn’t matter because three boys were going to easily fill every available surface in junk within the week. Sherlock said this wouldn’t do, because he liked having available surfaces to spread out evidence and make brainstorming boards, and also be available for “other necessities.”
“What kind of other necessities?” John asked, leaning against the doorway into their prehistoric kitchen with his hand on his hip.
“The fun kind,” Sherlock grinned. John leaned up to kiss him, pulling himself onto tiptoes with the doorframe. Sherlock slumped into the kiss, one long hand sliding around John’s neck and then down the back of his collar. Quite suddenly, Sherlock put his free hand on John’s chest and pushed them apart, still stroking the back of John’s neck with his thumb.
“I know I’m not… I’m not easy to… and I don’t always…” Sherlock said, his brow furrowed.
What John really wanted was to give this room a good ol’ fashioned housewarming, and then maybe give the kitchen one as well, and the lounge, and their new bedroom… but he could see that Sherlock had been dwelling on his insecurities for several hours and needed relief.
“I know,” he said, pressing his lips together in a patient smile. “Believe me, I know.”
“You shouldn’t have to make excuses to the boys for the problems that I-“
“Sherlock, I make as many of my own problems as you make for me,” John husked. “And living with you has taught me not to even perceive those problems anymore. Both yours and mine. That’s why I can’t face any sort of life without you.”
He grabbed Sherlock’s collar and pulled them together again. He put his hand at the base of Sherlock’s spine as if they were entering a waltz and pressed their hips together. His blood pounded in his ears and his skin drank up the warmth of Sherlock, the taut shiver of his muscles under John’s hands.
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (22/22)darthhellokittyJune 12 2011, 07:55:35 UTC
This is a wonderful and realistic happy ending, yay! I'm so pleased that they're all in their house - and John and Sherlock are truly talking about things, not letting them build up into trouble. They're clearly loving one another. Beautiful ending for an excellent story!
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (22/22)tawabidsJune 16 2011, 11:17:46 UTC
He is the biggest prat that ever pratted! And worse. Thank you for all your support :D
I should. I think on some level I'm too scared of the responsibility of maintaining a decent fic journal ;_; such a wuss! BUT IF MYCROFT TELLS ME TO DO IT, WELL.
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (22/22)jupiter_ashJune 24 2011, 18:36:21 UTC
Oh wow, just found this and read it in one setting. Absolutely loved it. Different from anything else I've read in this fandom and you had me hooked from the beginning (to the point when I only realised I had forgotten about the food I had put in the oven when I read about the boys and their cooking).
Re: Doctor, Detective and Sons (22/22)nejemJune 24 2011, 20:37:07 UTC
I usually don't even like the idea of mpreg, but sometimes there are these beautiful and shiny and brilliant gems of fanfiction that make me rethink my tastes! :D
This was absolutely beautiful: funny, sweet, heartbreaking, then sweet yet again and throughout all of it completely real! Kudos to you, this was fantastic! :)
“So is this the part where we sit down and talk about our relationship and decide we need to communicate more? You lay out your grievances, I point all the ways this has been building up for years and then we decide it’ll be better for the boys’ development if they’re not raised in a household riddled with underlying tension and resentment, so, we make plans to visit a lawyer and arrange the splitting of our assets and a custody agreement we’re both happy with. Probably you taking Hamish and me taking the wolf pack for the weekdays and then swapping over on weekends. We’re both sensible, we’ll put the needs of the boys first,” he finished his monotone speech with a quick tap of his nails on the wooden surface. “How did I do?”
John chewed on the inside of his cheek. He entwined his fingers and set them on the table in front of him. Then he said, “I don’t want to stay at Baker Street-“
Sherlock gave a derisive snort, and John shot him a look that made him keep his mouth shut. He continued, “I don’t think we should stay at Baker Street. It’s too small. The boys should have their own rooms, and we’re too close to town here. Drunks and unsavoury characters whooping outside the window every Saturday night, it’s not healthy. We need to move.”
Sherlock was staring at him. After a moment he said, “Where do… we… get the money for this?”
“Well, for starters, I’m going to go back to work,” John said. “Full-time, too, I hated having to balance half-and-half when Murray was little and Geoff was just starting school. There’s good day-cares we can get subsidised for.”
“You don’t believe in day-care.”
“Yeah, well, I don't believe in television, but that doesn't make DVD players a crime,” John chewed on the inside of his cheek. “Maybe I have been too… over-protective. For a long time. Or maybe I'm just addicted to my kids. I think you know how that feels.”
Sherlock said nothing for a few seconds, then he asked, “I meant it, what I said. I don’t want my sons being raised in an unhappy household where the parents secretly dislike each other.”
“Didn’t do me any harm,” John retorted.
“I didn’t say it did.”
“Then can I do a bit of deducting of my own?” John asked, cocking his head. “Because I don’t think you expected this. When you saw me standing there with my bag you were caught by surprise. I know you, I know your face and your voice, Sherlock. You had no idea I felt that way. Now I’m not spiteful enough to be offended by that, or so arrogant as to think that I can hide my feelings from you. But I do think it means you weren’t looking for the signs. And if you weren’t looking for the signs, it was because you didn’t want to see them. You don’t want this to be the end of us. You’re as much in love with me as you were that day by the pool,” he leaned forward. “How did I do?”
Sherlock folded his arms, an odd gesture for him, and looked at hands of the man sitting across the table from him as if they could reveal the final clue that would bring the solution into reach. Then his eyes flicked up to meet John’s and said quietly. "Spot on, John.”
“Good,” John leaned back and slapped the table with his palm. “Now we need to talk about grievances and better communication. Things are going to change around here, Mr Holmes.”
---
Only a couple more parts to go! I know Sherlock might come off as a prick here, but in fact I think Sherlock is a prick and John loves him anyway.
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It's awesome, amazingly well-written, all your characters are so compelling, and it's so sad, and hard, and lovely at the same time. And John... ajdsnjkadbadjahbdab your John omg my heart aches of how much love I have for that bamf, tender, adorable, strong John.
Things like these lines:
“Okay, Geoff, don’t worry,” John stood up as quietly as he could, reaching for his pants in the neat pile of clothes he’d left in the corner. He began to put them on one-handed, then held the phone with his cheek to pull them up fully. The movement stretched the bad shoulder, which gave a warning throb. “Go into our room, wake Daddy and tell him what you just told me, but stay on the line. I’m getting dressed right now.” and "His hands were not shaking.", or "John, feeling argumentative and grouchy, didn’t answer. But the retort at the tip of his tongue was, I never wanted a nice guy. I only ever wanted him." JUST GIVE ME ALL THE FEELINGS.
And all the scenes when they are trying to find Murray, in that car that "was a good size for Watsons but not so much for anyone taller. Sherlock, in the passenger seat, practically had his knees around his ears." (oh LOL) (ajhsbdajdbadsa and this: "They were in a quiet street bordered by rows of tall terrace houses, too narrow for a U-turn. John glanced in his mirrors and then executed a perfect hand-brake donut and sped off the way they come. Geoffrey yelped and then broke into gales of laughter." BAMFdad!John is the best thing ever)
Oh well, actually I could quote your entire fic, every line, every word is pure touching, vivid, true beauty.
Sorry for this incoherent comment, but you've melted my heart, and obviously, my brain too.
I can't wait for more!!!!!!!!!!
And now a question, have you written more fics in this fandom? I've seen this link (http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/9100.html?thread=42288780#t42288780), and i'll read the fic now, but really (hope it doesn't sound too creepy) i'd love to read everything you've written in the Sherlock fandom! You don't have to link me to your anon fills if you don't want it, but if you've posted more fics with your name, it would make me the happiest girl on the earth if you could tell me where, because i couldn't find them in your livejournal.
THANK YOU, AND THANK YOUR FOR BEING WRITING THIS AMAZING FIC.
Reply
I haven't written anything for this fandom outside the meme, and all of my fills are from part 15 onwards, so they should be in the filled prompts post if you search my username. I might have filled a couple of things anon when I was starting? But I'm pretty sure they were rubbish.
I know I should tidy my fills up and post them on my lj or at one of the comms, but right now I kind of like just filling things freely. Maybe in a while ;)
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Oh I had forgotten you were the author of this lovely fill: http://sherlockbbc-fic.livejournal.com/9100.html?thread=43254412#t43254412
SO CUTE! :}
And I've read "I Am the Boy Anachronism", adn well... i have no words... It's so beautiful it hurts. How are you so amazing?
*bows to your talent*
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I love the anon's pictures in that fill, omg. Most gratifying thing ever.
Thank you for all your kind words!
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---
Poor Mrs Hudson. She had tried to be positive while wishing them well, but she was really going to miss them. John had promised he would bring the boys around to visit when he could, but he knew their lives were hectic so that might not be as often and Mrs Hudson would like. Hamish, who was now almost three and a half, hugged her leg and promised her that when he was old enough he would marry her so she wouldn’t have to live on her own.
They were moving the first load into the new house, a two-storey, weatherboard villa that they’d gotten cheap because it needed new carpets, fresh paint and a lot of work in the kitchen to bring it out of the twentieth century. They hadn’t thought they’d be able to afford the deposit by a long shot, and Mycroft stepping in and offering to pay it had nearly sent Sherlock through the roof (“No, you do NOT get to offer us CHARITY, you CONDESCENDING OAF!”). Eventually a friend of Sherlock who John hadn’t met before, who had spent two years in jail before Sherlock exonerated him, had found them a better deal with the bank he worked for.
Geoffrey and Murray were already fighting over which room they got. John sighed and marched upstairs to break up what sounded like it was rapidly descending into a violent brawl. Sherlock conveniently didn’t follow until John had already scolded Geoffrey for putting his brother in a headlock, “Don’t ever, ever cut off his breathing, Geoff, you could kill him,” and Geoffrey had given his defence, “He bit me! Look! I’m bleeding!”
They ate takeaway souvlakis over a painting sheet on the floor that night, because all the big furniture would be coming by truck the next day. As he was polishing his off, Murray asked quietly, “Dad, do you ever think you’ll leave again?”
John glanced at Sherlock. The wolf pack had not asked much about that particular hiccough in the year or so since it had taken place. John and Sherlock had tried to explain it to them at one point soon after the fact, but the boys hadn’t seemed too interested in the details. Their parents just kept their fingers crossed that their sons hadn’t taken anything to heart.
“Well,” John cleared his throat and lowered his souvlaki. “I don’t want to, not at all. So I hope not.”
“Things have been different since then,” Murray said vaguely.
“Good kind of different?” John asked.
“I guess so.”
“Why were you unhappy?” Geoffrey cut in.
Sherlock was watching John very closely now. John thought about it. “Everybody does things other people don’t like, even best friends. I guess instead of telling Daddy when he was doing something I didn’t like, I sat on it and let it bother me. I don’t just put Sherlock in a headlock like you do when Murray annoys you.”
Murray giggled, but Geoffrey’s intense, interrogative expression didn’t change. “But why didn’t you tell him?”
John cleared his throat. “Because I have trust issues,” he said finally. “I’ve had them for a long time, before I even met Daddy. The only time I ever really trusted someone before Daddy was when I was in the war, when it was other soldiers. So maybe I thought that if I categorised everything all ship-shape like in the army, and if I withstood whatever life threw at me like a stoic soldier-Dad, then everything would work out. So I followed all the rules I’d put in my head, and treated this family like it was my job and my duty and like Sherlock was my commander. Which is such a stupid thing to do. Since then I’ve tried to treat you less like that, and more like Sherlock and my two mini-Sherlocks. There’s no rules for that, it’s never been done before, but that’s why I love it.”
“Sherlock-John hybrids,” Sherlock corrected him.
“Hybrid spawn,” added Geoffrey.
“Alright, Sherlock-John Hybrid Spawn,” John laughed. “But you’re also my Murray and my Geoff. Completely different from anything that’s come before. No rules. So now I’m figuring things out as I go along.”
Geoff seemed satisfied at that. He smiled at his fathers and went back to his dinner.
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“What kind of other necessities?” John asked, leaning against the doorway into their prehistoric kitchen with his hand on his hip.
“The fun kind,” Sherlock grinned. John leaned up to kiss him, pulling himself onto tiptoes with the doorframe. Sherlock slumped into the kiss, one long hand sliding around John’s neck and then down the back of his collar. Quite suddenly, Sherlock put his free hand on John’s chest and pushed them apart, still stroking the back of John’s neck with his thumb.
“I know I’m not… I’m not easy to… and I don’t always…” Sherlock said, his brow furrowed.
What John really wanted was to give this room a good ol’ fashioned housewarming, and then maybe give the kitchen one as well, and the lounge, and their new bedroom… but he could see that Sherlock had been dwelling on his insecurities for several hours and needed relief.
“I know,” he said, pressing his lips together in a patient smile. “Believe me, I know.”
“You shouldn’t have to make excuses to the boys for the problems that I-“
“Sherlock, I make as many of my own problems as you make for me,” John husked. “And living with you has taught me not to even perceive those problems anymore. Both yours and mine. That’s why I can’t face any sort of life without you.”
He grabbed Sherlock’s collar and pulled them together again. He put his hand at the base of Sherlock’s spine as if they were entering a waltz and pressed their hips together. His blood pounded in his ears and his skin drank up the warmth of Sherlock, the taut shiver of his muscles under John’s hands.
No more rules, he promised himself.
---Fin---
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(The comment has been removed)
I should. I think on some level I'm too scared of the responsibility of maintaining a decent fic journal ;_; such a wuss! BUT IF MYCROFT TELLS ME TO DO IT, WELL.
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Anyway, very much enjoyed it. Well done. :)
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This was absolutely beautiful: funny, sweet, heartbreaking, then sweet yet again and throughout all of it completely real! Kudos to you, this was fantastic! :)
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