Dimmock/Lestrade (Dark! Warning: possible non-con)
anonymous
December 4 2011, 21:17:42 UTC
Take this as far as you want. It doesn't have to be dark, just a slightly dysfunctional relationship fueled by all the horrible things they see on the job. Or you can go all out, and make it a power-imbalance, with Lestrade domming Dimmock, favoritism, sexual favors, dub con, etc.
Re: Dimmock/Lestrade (Dark! Warning: possible non-con)nachalainneDecember 4 2011, 21:28:01 UTC
I love you whoever you are. I love you. I just need you to know that. I will also declare my love to anyone who fills this. Now excuse me while I go gif this.
Re: Dimmock/Lestrade (Dark! Warning: possible non-con)marysutherlandDecember 15 2011, 09:48:03 UTC
I'm trying to write this at the moment - don't know whether it'll count as dark or just depressing. Because it's really Sherlock Lestrade wants, not Dimmock.
Fill: It doesn't always get better (1/?)marysutherlandDecember 15 2011, 17:16:33 UTC
There were two rules Lestrade had stuck to over the years regarding sex: never sleep with colleagues and always remember to use a condom. And here he was about to break them both with Mark Dimmock. The stupid thing was, he didn't even really fancy the man.
***
He'd first met Dimmock at CID's policy forum for business risk management. Or possibly the business forum for policy risk management. It was something, anyhow, that involved brainstorming sessions. Though in Lestrade's case it was mainly thunderclouds in his mind as he wondered how he'd got sucked into attending this waste of time. Most of the rest of the attendees were the usual mix of the old lags who were desperate to avoid any real work and the young, keen and ignorant who thought that their bright ideas might make some real difference.
DC Dimmock had recently been transferred over from Kent CID and was eager to pass on details of their strategic initiatives. Lestrade wondered again how he'd got to be so old. This kid looked like he still ought to be in primary school; he
( ... )
Fill: It doesn't always get better (2/?)marysutherlandDecember 17 2011, 08:39:01 UTC
As soon as the thing was over - thank God it had finished on time, partly because Dimmock hadn't said a bloody word - Lestrade caught Dimmock's eye and signalled to him to wait behind. The kid still looked pretty wound up about the whole thing, he thought, as he waited for the room to clear. Not surprising, really
( ... )
Re: Fill: It doesn't always get better (3/?)marysutherlandDecember 17 2011, 08:42:59 UTC
He soon forgot about Dimmock, though, because he had another hapless kid to sort out. Well, technically, Sherlock wasn't a kid any more than Dimmock was, but he acted about ten sometimes. A particularly disruptive ten-year-old, who alternated between solving impossible murders and behaving like someone with ADHD. Unfortunately, Lestrade didn't reckon it was Ritalin Sherlock was dosing himself with. If he wasn't going to burn himself out in a few months, if he was going to stay useful, he needed to be taken in hand
( ... )
Re: Fill: It doesn't always get better (3/?)marysutherlandDecember 17 2011, 15:31:29 UTC
The rest is all written and will gradually get posted. But I'm afraid this is not a very happy fic - I'm not sure it's technically dark, but it's certainly dysfunctional.
Fill: It doesn't always get better (4/10)marysutherlandDecember 17 2011, 15:29:53 UTC
Lestrade was particularly glad he didn't have Sherlock with him at the next party he went, because it was enough of a bloody disaster anyhow. Police Federation St George's Day Pub Crawl - what the fuck had someone been on when thinking up that one? In practice, that meant far too many coppers with red and white paint running off their faces crowding into a string of bunting-adorned pubs with really crappy food. When he'd finally fought his way through to the bar of the fourth pub and got a couple of pints, he'd turned and promptly bumped into someone, spilling his drink
( ... )
Fill: It doesn't always get better (5/10)marysutherlandDecember 17 2011, 15:33:44 UTC
Dimmock moved across to Homicide Command in the autumn, to work on DCI Tennison's team. Lestrade just smiled when they were formally introduced and acted as if he didn't remember him, and Dimmock visibly relaxed a bit, and chatted to him politely for a few minutes. Not that they had much to do with each other, even after that, but at least Dimmock was looking happier. Got into the swing of things, making his mark, apparently. Though Lestrade was glad he didn't have him as his protégé, because there was a fine line between a sergeant who was helpful and enthusiastic and one who was secretly measuring up your office for their own
( ... )
Fill: It doesn't always get better (6/10)marysutherlandDecember 18 2011, 22:23:00 UTC
About two hours later, Sherlock whirled out muttering about the largest size of gun a spaniel could retrieve, and Lestrade was left with a partly torn-apart office and a headache. No point in doing anything more till he found out if Sherlock's preposterous theory about how the gun had got into the river held up, so he might as well call it a night, Lestrade thought, looking at his watch. He might even get home before midnight.
And then do what? Sit in his flat on his own and watch crap telly and...oh sod it, there was a reason he never went home on time. Because it was too bloody depressing there. And he should at least tidy up the office a bit, make it look like he understood the concept of a clear desk policy
( ... )
Fill: It doesn't always get better (7/10)marysutherlandDecember 18 2011, 22:26:39 UTC
Still, he had to be careful. Just the nightshift around now, and DI Parker's lot were normally huddled round the coffee machine gawking at YouTube on their mobiles, but he'd better check that no-one was around who might decide to come and discuss things at a crucial moment. He wandered out to the water cooler, got himself a drink. All quiet, this end of the building...and then he realised it wasn't. Sitting there in the corner at a desk was a small figure, who looked up and then headed towards him. Shit, it was DS Dimmock. Lestrade should have stuck inside his office, shouldn't he
( ... )
Fill: It doesn't always get better (8/10)marysutherlandDecember 18 2011, 22:30:07 UTC
Fucking, bloody hell, he was not having some little tosser coming along and asking stupid bigoted questions.
"It is none of your sodding business, as long as it doesn't affect my work," he replied, "which it doesn't. Now get out before I throw you out."
Dimmock didn't move, just sat there looking at Lestrade in a bemused way. Christ, was the boy on some kind of drugs? Why the hell was he behaving like this? He went over and put his hand on his shoulder.
"I told you to leave," he said firmly. Dimmock's confused grey eyes looked up, and he seemed about to say something. Lestrade waited, but Dimmock just shook his head, speechless. But Lestrade's hand was still on his shoulder, and he wasn't pulling away the way you'd expect a homophobe to do when a gay man touched him. The way a lot of straight men did. Was it possible...was that why he'd asked Lestrade that question
( ... )
Re: Fill: It doesn't always get better (8/10)rachel4revengeDecember 19 2011, 02:02:39 UTC
OP here! This is brilliant! I like the subtle authority and power you've given Lestrade. You could take it either way as far as dark!Lestrade, so I'm interested to see what you do. Definitely enjoying poor little Dimmock here haha. Can't wait for more!!
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Excuse me are you ME.
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***
He'd first met Dimmock at CID's policy forum for business risk management. Or possibly the business forum for policy risk management. It was something, anyhow, that involved brainstorming sessions. Though in Lestrade's case it was mainly thunderclouds in his mind as he wondered how he'd got sucked into attending this waste of time. Most of the rest of the attendees were the usual mix of the old lags who were desperate to avoid any real work and the young, keen and ignorant who thought that their bright ideas might make some real difference.
DC Dimmock had recently been transferred over from Kent CID and was eager to pass on details of their strategic initiatives. Lestrade wondered again how he'd got to be so old. This kid looked like he still ought to be in primary school; he ( ... )
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And then do what? Sit in his flat on his own and watch crap telly and...oh sod it, there was a reason he never went home on time. Because it was too bloody depressing there. And he should at least tidy up the office a bit, make it look like he understood the concept of a clear desk policy ( ... )
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"It is none of your sodding business, as long as it doesn't affect my work," he replied, "which it doesn't. Now get out before I throw you out."
Dimmock didn't move, just sat there looking at Lestrade in a bemused way. Christ, was the boy on some kind of drugs? Why the hell was he behaving like this? He went over and put his hand on his shoulder.
"I told you to leave," he said firmly. Dimmock's confused grey eyes looked up, and he seemed about to say something. Lestrade waited, but Dimmock just shook his head, speechless. But Lestrade's hand was still on his shoulder, and he wasn't pulling away the way you'd expect a homophobe to do when a gay man touched him. The way a lot of straight men did. Was it possible...was that why he'd asked Lestrade that question ( ... )
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