I've posted this several pages back, but no one filled it. I am posting it here again. Please, someone fill this.
John witnesses a crime. He is placed under protection. Sherlock finds that he cannot live without his blogger. He follows John which means John must constantly move.
John decides that he would rather have one day of glory with Sherlock....than a lifetime without.
John is killed during his one day with Sherlock. Tragic, love-declaring, painful death in Sherlock's arms.
Sherlock then goes on a revenge-rampage. He will live...if only because John asked him too.
Fill: I see the wasp on the length of my arm (1/?)
anonymous
September 25 2010, 19:25:52 UTC
"This man has ties to both the Yamaguchi-gumi and the Solntsevskaya brava," says Lestrade grimly. His sleeves are mucky from the Thames riverside, and together they're walking away from a dead body--a man in a great trench coat and expensive leather boots, with a messy stab wound through his stomach and a single bullet hole through his forehead. "The Japanese yakuza and the Russian mafiya. You're going into witness protection, John Watson."
"We don't have that in the United Kingdom," John points out blankly, hopping from one foot to the other. He's been out here for a few hours now (holding a man's guts in, getting spattered with blood and brains, running up and down the riverside like mad while he waits for the police) and it's really bloody cold out. He wishes he'd brought his gloves today
( ... )
Fill: I see the wasp on the length of my arm (3/?)
anonymous
September 25 2010, 19:29:35 UTC
John lies in bed with the sound of rain starting to tap on the roof and a few low, slow notes, tuneless and weird, like floating distorted underwater. He wonders what it'd be like to have Sherlock lying next to him--he probably steals all the covers and kicks in his sleep, the right and utter bastard--and falls asleep in the middle of his thought
( ... )
Fill: I see the wasp on the length of my arm (4/?)
anonymous
September 25 2010, 19:31:58 UTC
"I have to do this," he tells John, his voice raw as he throws his things into a shabby old suitcase he bought second-hand. "I have to go back. If I don't go back Jim will track me down, he'll find out where I'm living and who I'm living with, he's baiting me."
"He's insane," says John, sitting cross-legged on the bed and remembering the weight of a winter parka by a swimming pool. "And not as smart as you are. Those two things, those are what's important."
"You're not leaving this city," Sherlock tells him, jabbing a finger at him. "You're not leaving this apartment."
When John doesn't answer right away: "John, you are not leaving this apartment, tell me right now--"
"I'm not leaving," says John finally. Neutrally.
Sherlock leaves in the morning, hailing a cab and disappearing down the street, and John waits half a day--finishing up the laundry, unloading the dishwasher and having a shower--before scheduling a flight. (It's not a lie but it is a half-truth, of sorts: I'm not leaving you.At 6:43 a.m. the plane lands at Heathrow
( ... )
Fill: I see the wasp on the length of my arm (5/6)
anonymous
September 25 2010, 19:33:56 UTC
The gunman balances his rifle over the railing of the gallery, settling down into his position and going still as a statue. Police sharpshooter, thinks John, maybe a military sniper, not long out of the forces. He'll let Sherlock work out the details later.
"I never drink," says Jim Moriarty's voice. "But today I'm going out to a certain restaurant and having a bottle of the 1998 Domaine Romanée Conti Pinot Noir they've put on reserve for me. Do you know why?"
"I'm not interested," says Sherlock shortly, and John draws in his breath.
"Turn around, Sherlock," Jim croons gently. "Turn around slowly and look up."
Now.In the instant Sherlock follows Moriarty's gesture and turns his head, in the instant the gunman reaches for the trigger, John leaps on him from behind and tightens one arm around his windpipe, hauling him back
( ... )
Re: OP here
anonymous
September 26 2010, 00:10:44 UTC
Deep breaths before you pass out, anon! *gives you paper bag*
Seriously, I am so, so happy you liked it. It was a really gorgeous prompt and it was a pleasure to fill it, and I'm really grateful you approve. Thank you so much for being awesome! ♥
Please, someone fill this.
John witnesses a crime. He is placed under protection. Sherlock finds that he cannot live without his blogger. He follows John which means John must constantly move.
John decides that he would rather have one day of glory with Sherlock....than a lifetime without.
John is killed during his one day with Sherlock.
Tragic, love-declaring, painful death in Sherlock's arms.
Sherlock then goes on a revenge-rampage. He will live...if only because John asked him too.
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I'm working on it.
;)
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"We don't have that in the United Kingdom," John points out blankly, hopping from one foot to the other. He's been out here for a few hours now (holding a man's guts in, getting spattered with blood and brains, running up and down the riverside like mad while he waits for the police) and it's really bloody cold out. He wishes he'd brought his gloves today ( ... )
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"He's insane," says John, sitting cross-legged on the bed and remembering the weight of a winter parka by a swimming pool. "And not as smart as you are. Those two things, those are what's important."
"You're not leaving this city," Sherlock tells him, jabbing a finger at him. "You're not leaving this apartment."
When John doesn't answer right away: "John, you are not leaving this apartment, tell me right now--"
"I'm not leaving," says John finally. Neutrally.
Sherlock leaves in the morning, hailing a cab and disappearing down the street, and John waits half a day--finishing up the laundry, unloading the dishwasher and having a shower--before scheduling a flight. (It's not a lie but it is a half-truth, of sorts: I'm not leaving you.At 6:43 a.m. the plane lands at Heathrow ( ... )
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"I never drink," says Jim Moriarty's voice. "But today I'm going out to a certain restaurant and having a bottle of the 1998 Domaine Romanée Conti Pinot Noir they've put on reserve for me. Do you know why?"
"I'm not interested," says Sherlock shortly, and John draws in his breath.
"Turn around, Sherlock," Jim croons gently. "Turn around slowly and look up."
Now.In the instant Sherlock follows Moriarty's gesture and turns his head, in the instant the gunman reaches for the trigger, John leaps on him from behind and tightens one arm around his windpipe, hauling him back ( ... )
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This is everything i could had hoped for.
You need to post this on cox_an_co and on watsons_woes and on sherlockbbc and....
Thank you.
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Seriously, I am so, so happy you liked it. It was a really gorgeous prompt and it was a pleasure to fill it, and I'm really grateful you approve. Thank you so much for being awesome! ♥
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Thank you! That means the world to me :D
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Poor John, poor Sherlock. *sniffles*
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I really do feel like I should give Benedict and Martin a hug now or something. (Or make them hug each other. Or... er, never mind. >.>)
Thank you much! :D
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