marysutherland: (Sherlock in uniform)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (explicit slash, swearing)

Summary: If only Sherlock had co-operated, talked to Greg, things might have been different.

Many thanks to The Small Hobbit for betaing.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6.


Sherlock had obviously decided to finish 2010 as he'd started it, by being a complete tosser. )

Part 8
marysutherland: (JHW B&W)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (explicit slash, swearing)

Summary: Why had Greg spent so many years believing Sherlock could ever change?

Many thanks to The Small Hobbit for betaing.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5.

The next time Greg saw Sherlock, it was because a plane had fallen out of the sky over Dusseldorf. )

Part 7
marysutherland: (Sherlock and John)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (explicit slash, swearing)

Summary: If he let this go, that was it, Greg knew. Every hold on Sherlock broken, if he covered this up...

Many thanks to The Small Hobbit for betaing.

Part 1, Part 2


What fouled up a marriage, of course, wasn't always the known unknowns. )



Part 4
marysutherland: (Sherlock in uniform)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (explicit slash, swearing)

Summary: Sherlock may be off drugs, but that doesn't make him easier for Lestrade to handle...

Many thanks to The Small Hobbit for betaing.

Part 1

Greg hadn't planned to spend Twelfth Night in a bar with an attractive man. )

Part 3
marysutherland: (Rupert)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (explicit slash, swearing)

Summary: There's a simple reason why Lestrade puts up with Sherlock...

Many thanks to The Small Hobbit for betaing.

Note: the timeline of this story reflects an attempt to make some sense of the mess that is Series 2 chronology, and was adapted from suggestions originally made by Mad Maudlin. She produced a timetable in which some of the events of Hounds and Fall took place during the whole year covered by Scandal. I've combined this with another suggestion (whose original source I can unfortunately no longer locate): that Hounds takes place before the Christmas party in Scandal, because Mrs Hudson's 'new dress' in Hounds is the one she's wearing then. In summary, this fic has the events of Hounds taking place in the summer of 2010, before Sherlock meets Irene. The significance of this will eventually be revealed...


Sometimes Greg couldn't help thinking it would have been better if he'd never met Sherlock Holmes )

Part 2
marysutherland: (Sherlock and John)

BBC Sherlock

Rating: 12 (violence)

Summary: Someone's bound to get hurt when Sherlock turns up again.


Mycroft sighed. He should have foreseen the consequences, of course. John Watson's "bad days" occupied a substantial section in the files they had on him. Push him too far and a violent streak would emerge.

Sherlock's melodrama had hardly helped. If there was an art to breaking bad news gently, there must surely also be one to breaking good news. Simply turning up alive in your only friend's flat was not recommended. And it had just gone downhill from there. There were first aid techniques for dealing with faints; Sherlock could have Googled them. Splashing alcohol down a man's throat was not a sensible option.

Sherlock had been eager to talk, of course. Gabbling on about how Molly had helped him fake his own death and his adventures in the last three years. No time spent asking what had happened to John. And then the final disaster. He could still hear Sherlock's voice on the tape: I had to confide in Mycroft in order to obtain the money I needed. Sherlock had trusted the brother he was at odds with, but not his only friend.

Mycroft sighed again, and then winced. So now he was banned from the Diogenes Club. Though really, it was most unreasonable to insist that a member must remain silent while he was having his nose broken.




marysutherland: (Mark Gatiss)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 12 (implied violence)

Spoilers: for The Reichenbach Fall


Mycroft had to admit that Kitty Riley had a certain rat-like cunning. She could say anything about Sherlock's past, of course, now he was dead, but it had been ingenious to bribe someone to obtain an old school report.  What she'd found was certainly lurid enough for the red tops; no bland generalities from the eccentric masters at their public school.

"Holmes' intelligence is matched only by his obnoxious behaviour" from the maths master; Mr Hall in Classics commenting, "He would do well to remember the need for diplomacy as well as brilliance; crowing over the mistakes of others is hardly fair play." Next came the damning sentence scrawled by a housemaster: "The boy is frankly untrustworthy." And last of all, the headmaster's conclusion: "We feel that your son would be better continuing his schooling elsewhere. There is a curious lack of empathy visible, which has led to certain unfortunate incidents. A consultation with a child psychiatrist might be recommended."

"Not a pretty picture, is it, Ms Riley?" Mycroft said. "Hoping for another front page article, were you?"

Kitty didn't reply.

"A pity you didn't understand the difference between "Holmes major" and "Holmes minor," he went on, as she beat her hands vainly against the walls of the interrogation cell. "And so didn't spot that report didn't refer to my brother."   


marysutherland: (Mark Gatiss)

BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (swearing, violence)

Summary: Moriarty's lying dead at Barts. Is Mycroft about to join him?

Betaed by the amazing Second Skin.

Part 1, Part 2


The first thing Mycroft remembered after the shot was being on his knees, deafened and shaking and vomiting out his coffee.  )

Part 4

Half empty

Jun. 8th, 2012 09:22 am
marysutherland: (JHW B&W)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 18 (explicit slash). Warning for dub-con.

Spoilers: minor for The Reichenbach Fall

Summary: Greg and John's attempts to trap Colonel Moran go horribly wrong.

Originally written for aridanes-string and a Five Acts Meme asking for "Fuck or Die". Betaed by the wonderful Zauzat.




Their plan to capture Colonel Moran had gone wrong, of course. )
marysutherland: (Sally)

BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (swearing)

Spoilers for Series 2

Summary: Lestrade and Sally Donovan have a talk after the events of The Reichenbach Fall.

Many thanks to my very patient betas Zauzat and Kalpyso_V


Lestrade was sitting at home watching a Doctor Who DVD when the knock came on his door.  )

marysutherland: (Dimmock)

BBC Sherlock

Rating 18 (explicit slash, homophobia, general unhappiness)

Spoilers: set pre-Series 1, no spoilers for Series 2

Originally written for a Sherlock rare-pair prompt for dysfunctional Dimmock/Lestrade.

Betaed by the lovely Shouldboverthis.


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. )

marysutherland: (Sherlock in uniform)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (swearing, slash, excessive angst)

Spoilers: None for series 2 (and not compatible with it).

Written for a prompt (no 69) at the Mystrade Fanworks Festival

Summary: John and Mycroft have gone off together to the south of France. Lestrade is still trying to tell himself it's for a case.

Betaed by Thesmallhobbit - many thanks.

Part 1,Part 2.



By Thursday morning, Lestrade knows what he’s going to do. He texts Mycroft to say he’s probably not going to be able to meet him at the airport and then promptly gets on the tube to Heathrow. )


Part 4

marysutherland: (JHW B&W)

BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (swearing, slash)

Spoilers: None for series 2 (and not compatible with it).

Written for a prompt (no 69) at the Mystrade Fanworks Festival

Summary: Sherlock is dead and John, Mycroft and Lestrade are all suffering

Betaed by Thesmallhobbit - many thanks.

Part 1


In the first few months after Sherlock’s death, Lestrade’s main concern about John is that he doesn’t accidentally or deliberately kill himself. )

Part 3
marysutherland: (Default)
BBC Sherlock

Rating: U

Spoilers: none for series 2

Summary: some sad wet!Lestrade for Blooms84's Wet!Lestrade festival.


The thing about waterfalls was they just kept on going, Lestrade thought. Relentless water pounding down onto the rocks – meltwater from the winter's snow, the Swiss police said. The wind was blowing the spray over him, dampening his coat and his hair, slowly chilling him. He could feel the tiny drops on his face as well: maybe it would help hide his tears.

Nothing for him to do: he'd just get in the way of the searchers if he tried to help. They were the ones who knew where the Aar river might have taken a body, two bodies. They hadn't found Sherlock or Moriarty yet, which meant... nothing. You couldn't survive these falls; even if Sherlock hadn't been killed by the drop, he'd have been swept away and drowned. If he was alive, if somebody had found him, he'd have heard by now.

It'd hurt, of course, but it'd be over quickly. Supposed to have your life flash past when you drowned: had Sherlock thought of him in those moments, the years they'd had together? Probably not. Lestrade moved back on the rock a bit. Didn't do to get too close. He'd go back to the hotel soon, dry himself off, be practical. Difficult, though, because he might know Sherlock was dead, but he still found it hard to believe.

marysutherland: (Sherlock in uniform)

Happy Christmas to Xitheta

BBC Sherlock

Rating: PG

Prompt: Sherlock/John, last word bridge

Inspired by ACD's The Dying Detective


Sherlock frequently relied on John forgiving him, but it wasn’t working this time.

“I go away and you do this to Molly?” John said in disgust.

“It was for a case!”

“You made her think you were dying.”

“She’s simply incompetent.”

“No, she trusted you, didn’t realise you’d swapped the blood samples.”

“They showed I had a fatal disease, yet she didn’t insist on intensive care.”

“You begged to stay in 221B, so you could die in peace. Asked her to bring Culverton Smith over, so you could ask his advice.”

“And still she wasn’t suspicious. Nor was Smith, so I caught him red-handed. He was, of course, a murderer.”

“You took advantage of Molly, Sherlock.”

“What a quaint turn of phrase.” Why did it stir echoes? John was still glaring at him.

“Sometimes I think you are a sociopath.”

“You know I’m not.” Sherlock’s memory abruptly located the long-forgotten song:

Here am I with all my bridges burned
Just a babe in arms where you’re concerned
So lock the doors and call me yours
Coz you took advantage of me.


He understood that lyric now, the vulnerability love could bring. So maybe...

“If I apologise to Molly-“ he began.

“It’d be a start,” John said.

The first step to re-establishing John’s trust, Sherlock thought. Starting to build a new bridge.



Ella Fitzgerald singing "You Took Advantage of Me

marysutherland: (Sherlock and John)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 15 (implicit slash, major character death, swearing, angst)

Note: I’m assuming that Series 2 will end with Sherlock’s supposed death at Reichenbach, after which he will then eventually return.

Summary: a trip to Switzerland goes horribly wrong for Mycroft and Sherlock

Betaed by the wonderful Warriorbot

Part 2, Part 3


Afterwards, John wondered if it had been a premonition or just common sense that got him panicking about Sherlock's trip.  )
marysutherland: (Default)
BBC Sherlock

Rating 18 (whole fic): slash, mental health issues, vomiting.

Summary: AU body-swap fic, set mainly during "A Study in Pink". Inspired by the Martin Freeman/Rachael Stirling comedy drama Boy meets Girl.

Betaed by kalypso_v, queen of the comma.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8

Molly Hooper has let Sherlock Holmes do a lot of strange experiments in the morgue over the last few years, but she's pretty sure that this is going to be the one that gets her into serious trouble. )
 

Aftermath

Nov. 17th, 2011 01:08 pm
marysutherland: (Sherlock and John)
BBC Sherlock:

Rating: PG

Spoilers: for ACD's Scandal in Bohemia. It's his Irene Adler, not the Series 2 version

Irene Adler had defeated him and Sherlock felt wretched. Yesterday, when the king had come to congratulate him, he'd managed calm, with a hint of sarcasm. Asking for the photo of Irene rather than the king's ring had shown style, he thought. And even after the singularly dim monarch had left, he'd still kept up a vague kind of magnanimity, the thin illusion that he could be a good loser. For John's benefit, of course.

But now, twenty-four hours later, all that had run out, and he was down to the bitter dregs. John had gone off to the surgery, hurriedly fitting in an extra shift – if Sherlock had taken the ring, they could have paid this month's bills easily, he needed to think more carefully next time. Sherlock had spent the day on his couch, brooding, barely able to move, simply ignoring Mrs Hudson when she popped in. It was the usual post-case lethargy, but multiplied tenfold because he'd been beaten. He couldn't look at the new cases piling up in his inbox yet. Not till he could regain his own genius.

His work, after all, required the sustaining of illusion – not just the pretending to be someone else that was a normal part of his trade, but the illusion of infallibility. To himself, above all. He'd had a client recently who throughout their interview had repeatedly removed and replaced a ring on her finger, some kind of nervous tic. And Sherlock had abruptly found his mind racing back to the case of the Pink Lady – Jennifer Wilson – and the sudden realisation that maybe she hadn't had a string of lovers after all. You could never think of all the possibilities. If you tried you'd end up paralysed, unable to function at the speed required. He used logic, but he also sometimes had to guess, and he had to trust that he would guess right. Because if he didn't, people might die. No – if he didn't guess right, John might die.

But he was the great Sherlock Holmes, wasn't he? He was cleverer than almost everyone else; there was no-one else like him in the world. He had to re-find that man, re-inhabit that glorious confidence. Tonight, though, the weariness of his own fallibility weighed him down.

John had eventually come home and made them supper, and Sherlock had eaten it, because if he was eating there was an excuse for him not talking that wasn't simply sulkiness. And then he'd gone up and lain on his bed, still fully clothed, and John, after a while, had come and lain beside him. John had talked for a bit about his day at the surgery, and Sherlock had thought about showing interest, and decided it wasn't worth it. At last John had fallen silent, just lying there, ruffling Sherlock's curls. Because John was tired as well; he'd been rushing halfway across London on the case, and he hadn't a day off to recover.

Maybe sex was the answer, Sherlock thought, but he knew it wasn't. Neither of them had the energy for what he needed, the mad explosion of physical sensation, the frenzy that would blot out the pain in his mind, stop him caring for a moment about his own failure. Maybe if John was younger, sexier? But it wasn't John's fault that he looked how he looked. On the good days, his body seemed just right to Sherlock, fitting snugly together with his. But tonight, all he could see were John's imperfections: the poorly-defined bone structure, the lines, the wrinkles. The signs of an ordinary man.

Irene's photo had been Photoshopped a little, obviously, but she was still remarkably beautiful in real life. What would it be like to have her beside him now, not John? Not to sleep with – he had no sexual interest in her – but to talk to. That alert, active mind brought to confront his once again: that would be a worthy challenge for them both. The chance to dissect her character, confirm his analysis of the secrets of her success.

He'd tell her that analysis, but she wouldn't be alarmed. Nothing he could say would disconcert her: that was part of her allure to men, he felt sure. She was always ready to pretend so that that her lovers did not have to, could rest content in their own delusions of adequacy. Like that crowned idiot she'd recently been toying with.

No, he told himself, as John's hand reached across and stroked his side. He didn't need Irene Adler. He had everything he needed; it just required recapturing the desire for them. But not tonight. Tonight would just have to be got through. He sighed.

"I'm sorry it's bad," said John. "Anything I can do to help?"

"No," he replied, and then forced himself to say. "I'm tired, I'll have a bath, go to sleep, see if dreaming can unscramble my brain."

Even that much of an explanation was hard, but he felt it was necessary. It was part of what being with someone involved, he'd come to realise, responding to them.

"OK," said John. "I'll go and watch telly for a bit, but let me know if you need me." He sat up, smiling – the lines round his eyes even more visible – and said: "Sleep well. I love you."

Something else that being with someone involved: responding to their affection. "I love you, too," he said, closing his eyes. Just at the moment, it was a lie, of course, but it wasn't the worst lie he'd ever told.  And tomorrow, maybe he would be able to be the man John wanted him to be. Stranger things had happened.
 

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