In Between (2/16)
Title: In Between (2/16)
Author: Greens (marcal_92)
Artist: sarlyne
Beta: sachtastic
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Mary Morstan, Victor Trevor, Irene Adler, Jim Moriarty John/Mary, Sherlock/Victor
Warnings violence, character death a la Reichenbach
Summary: After Sherlock manages to get himself and John ejected from Harrods at Christmas, the boys make the acquaintance of Baker Street newcomer, Mary Morstan. At around the same time, a message from Jim Moriarty forces Sherlock to seek help from an ‘old friend’. As Mary and John grow closer, the question of who this ‘old friend’ may be rattles John’s brain. Just who was this man to Sherlock? How exactly was a man who Sherlock hadn’t been in contact with for years going to provide aid to the detective? And what sinister plan does Moriarty have up his sleeve this time? (AU starting during a Scandal in Belgravia)
Author Notes: Written forholmes_big_bang. This is the first time I’ve done a big bang and it’s by far the longest Sherlock fic I’ve ever written. I am in absolute love with this story and I hope you guys love it too. Make sure to check out sarlyne’s art, which is amazing! I also just want to say thanks to sachtastic who stuck with me through this process as my beta/brit-picker. I learned quite a bit. Comments=LOVE! I hope you enjoy this:)
THE BLOG OF DR. JOHN H. WATSON
December 25
Happy Christmas
Well if that entire evening wasn’t just bloody awful. Sherlock embarrassed the guests again, no surprise. I tell him constantly that he needs to treat people better, but it’s like he doesn’t really know how and has no real desire to try. Jeanette dumped me, no big surprise there. I can’t seem to hold on to a girlfriend for very long these days.
Sherlock did receive some bad news this evening from his brother, however, regarding the murder of Miss Irene Adler. I know that Sherlock says he is married to his work, but I also know that he feels more for Miss Adler than he allows himself to believe or admit. I’m worried about him falling back into the state he was in before our first meeting. Mrs. Hudson and I are taking turns staying with him over the next few days until he seems to return to normal. I am talking about Sherlock Holmes, however, so there really is no telling what ‘normal’ is.
I’m just about to nip to the shops for some milk and biscuits. I know I probably won’t have any luck with everything closed, but basically I just need to get out of the flat for a while. (Read More)
Snow had begun to fall as John stepped outside and shut the door to 221B Baker Street behind him. He could hear the heartfelt tone of a violin as he stood beneath the window, and he turned his head upward, catching a faint glimpse of his flatmate. Sherlock’s body swayed as he bowed the instrument, pain evident in his expression. Even if he didn’t know how to admit it to anyone, Sherlock had cared a great deal for Irene Adler. Her brutal death had wounded him deeply. The violin offered him an escape from his thoughts, John believed. He would allow Sherlock that much.
Pulling his coat closed tightly against the snow and wind, John stuck his head out and looked first left and then right down the street. He wasn’t going far, but in this weather, a taxi ride was probably safer and definitely warmer. Alas, there was no taxi to be found and only a few cars drove down Baker Street. He began to walk down the block, against the harsh wind. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest to fight the bitterness of the weather, but to no avail. Finally, he saw it, a lone cab.
“TAXI!” John called out, throwing his hand up in the air to hail the cab. It was then that he heard the echo.
“TAXI!”
John looked across the street and smiled. Mary Morstan. She wore a tattered green scarf and a long red coat. Her hair was tucked into a winter cap and she too threw her hand out to hail what seemed like the only taxi cab in London. She looked across the street at John as the car pulled to the kerb.
“Where are you headed?” John asked as Mary approached. “We could share.”
“Aberdeen Place,” she said, her cheeks flushed red from the cold.
John thought quickly. A drive to Aberdeen Place would only put him ten minutes total out of the way, perhaps fifteen due to the weather, and he really wouldn’t mind the company after the disaster of that evening.
“Is that too far out of your way?” Mary asked. “I could get the next one.”
“No,” John responded quickly. “No, not far at all.” He opened the back door and Mary did the same on her side. “Aberdeen Place,” John told the driver. He turned to Mary. She had already removed her cap and was shaking out her long brown hair. John cleared his throat. “What’s-on Aberdeen Place? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”
“My cousin,” she replied, loosening her scarf. “I promised I would visit him.”
“It’s a bit late for a social call, isn’t it?”
Mary laughed. “He’s a bit strange sometimes,” she said. “We’re really all the family we have left and it’s nice to get together, even if it’s for a short time. Besides, I know he would have liked to get together earlier, but he was at the theatre tonight, so…”
“See anything good?” John smiled, feeling comfortable and relaxed for the first time that evening.
“Oh, no- I mean-he’s an actor. Or at least-he tries. He’s been understudying this role for ages and I guess with it being Christmas…”
“He got his chance,” John smiled. “Good for him. Everyone has to start somewhere.”
“That’s what I tell him. He can be a bit impatient though.” Mary watched out the window through the snow as building numbers passed them by. “This is it, driver.” The cab pulled over to the kerb and Mary opened the door before reaching into her pocket.
“Don’t worry about it.” John put his hand on hers as she went to hand the cabbie her fare. “I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure?”
John nodded. “Have a nice time.” He smiled softly and she did the same.
“Thank you.” Mary pulled her hat back on and stepped out of the cab. “Happy Christmas, John.”
“Happy Christmas, Mary.”
Mary shut the back door of the cab and ran up to the building. John watched her as she seemed to disappear into the white blanket of falling snow.
“Where to, mate?” the cabbie asked, breaking John’s daze.
John sighed, sinking back in his seat. He didn’t even want biscuits anymore. “Baker Street. 221B Baker Street.”
Chapter Three
Author: Greens (marcal_92)
Artist: sarlyne
Beta: sachtastic
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Mycroft Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Mary Morstan, Victor Trevor, Irene Adler, Jim Moriarty John/Mary, Sherlock/Victor
Warnings violence, character death a la Reichenbach
Summary: After Sherlock manages to get himself and John ejected from Harrods at Christmas, the boys make the acquaintance of Baker Street newcomer, Mary Morstan. At around the same time, a message from Jim Moriarty forces Sherlock to seek help from an ‘old friend’. As Mary and John grow closer, the question of who this ‘old friend’ may be rattles John’s brain. Just who was this man to Sherlock? How exactly was a man who Sherlock hadn’t been in contact with for years going to provide aid to the detective? And what sinister plan does Moriarty have up his sleeve this time? (AU starting during a Scandal in Belgravia)
Author Notes: Written forholmes_big_bang. This is the first time I’ve done a big bang and it’s by far the longest Sherlock fic I’ve ever written. I am in absolute love with this story and I hope you guys love it too. Make sure to check out sarlyne’s art, which is amazing! I also just want to say thanks to sachtastic who stuck with me through this process as my beta/brit-picker. I learned quite a bit. Comments=LOVE! I hope you enjoy this:)
THE BLOG OF DR. JOHN H. WATSON
December 25
Happy Christmas
Well if that entire evening wasn’t just bloody awful. Sherlock embarrassed the guests again, no surprise. I tell him constantly that he needs to treat people better, but it’s like he doesn’t really know how and has no real desire to try. Jeanette dumped me, no big surprise there. I can’t seem to hold on to a girlfriend for very long these days.
Sherlock did receive some bad news this evening from his brother, however, regarding the murder of Miss Irene Adler. I know that Sherlock says he is married to his work, but I also know that he feels more for Miss Adler than he allows himself to believe or admit. I’m worried about him falling back into the state he was in before our first meeting. Mrs. Hudson and I are taking turns staying with him over the next few days until he seems to return to normal. I am talking about Sherlock Holmes, however, so there really is no telling what ‘normal’ is.
I’m just about to nip to the shops for some milk and biscuits. I know I probably won’t have any luck with everything closed, but basically I just need to get out of the flat for a while. (Read More)
Snow had begun to fall as John stepped outside and shut the door to 221B Baker Street behind him. He could hear the heartfelt tone of a violin as he stood beneath the window, and he turned his head upward, catching a faint glimpse of his flatmate. Sherlock’s body swayed as he bowed the instrument, pain evident in his expression. Even if he didn’t know how to admit it to anyone, Sherlock had cared a great deal for Irene Adler. Her brutal death had wounded him deeply. The violin offered him an escape from his thoughts, John believed. He would allow Sherlock that much.
Pulling his coat closed tightly against the snow and wind, John stuck his head out and looked first left and then right down the street. He wasn’t going far, but in this weather, a taxi ride was probably safer and definitely warmer. Alas, there was no taxi to be found and only a few cars drove down Baker Street. He began to walk down the block, against the harsh wind. He wrapped his arms tightly around his chest to fight the bitterness of the weather, but to no avail. Finally, he saw it, a lone cab.
“TAXI!” John called out, throwing his hand up in the air to hail the cab. It was then that he heard the echo.
“TAXI!”
John looked across the street and smiled. Mary Morstan. She wore a tattered green scarf and a long red coat. Her hair was tucked into a winter cap and she too threw her hand out to hail what seemed like the only taxi cab in London. She looked across the street at John as the car pulled to the kerb.
“Where are you headed?” John asked as Mary approached. “We could share.”
“Aberdeen Place,” she said, her cheeks flushed red from the cold.
John thought quickly. A drive to Aberdeen Place would only put him ten minutes total out of the way, perhaps fifteen due to the weather, and he really wouldn’t mind the company after the disaster of that evening.
“Is that too far out of your way?” Mary asked. “I could get the next one.”
“No,” John responded quickly. “No, not far at all.” He opened the back door and Mary did the same on her side. “Aberdeen Place,” John told the driver. He turned to Mary. She had already removed her cap and was shaking out her long brown hair. John cleared his throat. “What’s-on Aberdeen Place? If you don’t mind my asking, of course.”
“My cousin,” she replied, loosening her scarf. “I promised I would visit him.”
“It’s a bit late for a social call, isn’t it?”
Mary laughed. “He’s a bit strange sometimes,” she said. “We’re really all the family we have left and it’s nice to get together, even if it’s for a short time. Besides, I know he would have liked to get together earlier, but he was at the theatre tonight, so…”
“See anything good?” John smiled, feeling comfortable and relaxed for the first time that evening.
“Oh, no- I mean-he’s an actor. Or at least-he tries. He’s been understudying this role for ages and I guess with it being Christmas…”
“He got his chance,” John smiled. “Good for him. Everyone has to start somewhere.”
“That’s what I tell him. He can be a bit impatient though.” Mary watched out the window through the snow as building numbers passed them by. “This is it, driver.” The cab pulled over to the kerb and Mary opened the door before reaching into her pocket.
“Don’t worry about it.” John put his hand on hers as she went to hand the cabbie her fare. “I’ve got it.”
“Are you sure?”
John nodded. “Have a nice time.” He smiled softly and she did the same.
“Thank you.” Mary pulled her hat back on and stepped out of the cab. “Happy Christmas, John.”
“Happy Christmas, Mary.”
Mary shut the back door of the cab and ran up to the building. John watched her as she seemed to disappear into the white blanket of falling snow.
“Where to, mate?” the cabbie asked, breaking John’s daze.
John sighed, sinking back in his seat. He didn’t even want biscuits anymore. “Baker Street. 221B Baker Street.”
Chapter Three