catko: (Sherlock)
We got several clusters of prompts to write a fic: I decided to try to use all the prompts, in order. (They are italicized.) Fun!

Title: Night In
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing(s): Sherlock/John pre-anything
Rating: G
Word Count: 569
Set # & Words Used: I used them all!

“Let’s not mess about with the law, Sherlock, yes? Why not just go file the report at the station? You’ll have to do it sometime,” John called from the kitchen. Sherlock barely flicked his eyes from the microscope. “If by ‘law’ you mean ‘Lestrade,’ John, I absolutely refuse to cater to his absurd strategy of containment.” He raised his hand in a dismissive wave. “You can’t know me at all if you’d think I would.”

John stood for a moment at the entrance to the sitting room, then strolled toward Sherlock, depositing a mug of tea on the table. “I’d say I know you as well as anyone does, despite our almost complete lack of…” His voice trailed off into a shrug. Sherlock looked up this time, cocking an eyebrow as he watched John take his seat by the fire, his hair glowing gold in the flickering light. Sherlock glanced out the window at the darkening sky, and decided to turn the tide.

Reaching under the table for the bottle of Scotch, he went and sat in the chair opposite John. “I simply can’t do any more close work this evening,” he said in a studiously idle tone. “My mind is awash with annoying facts and observations.” He placed long fingers over his eyes, then peered between them. “Talk to me, John. Tell me the mundane doings of your day; perhaps that could serve as a palate cleanser.” He lolled back in the chair, but his eyes were brightly fixed on the man opposite. “Yeah?” John shifted in his chair. “All right then, well, I did have a bit of a day with the cleaners, getting the woollen jacket done, good old thing.” Sherlock suppressed a grimace at the thought of said jacket, but made an encouraging sound. “Then, way home, would you believe, a cat stuck in a tree by the park, managed to coax her down, right enough.

“Picked up a package for Mrs. Hudson from her crony at the bakery—didn’t look like baked goods, curious—then had to stop a young mischief-maker throwing a pebble over the roof at the corner; helped a foreign chap read the bus schedule, trying to get to the university. Just your average London afternoon.” He nodded happily, drained his tea, and held out the mug toward Sherlock, gesturing toward the bottle in his hand.

Mundane indeed, but it occurred to Sherlock as he reached over to pour the Scotch, he would gladly, and most surprisingly, endure daily such tedium to see that smile on John’s face. Blinking slightly at this realization, he murmured, “Kind of you to be a guide to the lost, to those about to make a mistake, and such a general dogsbody to the City of London. Making sure everything is ‘right as rain.’ ” He tried for a slightly ironic tone, but even he could hear the fondness. John paused mid-swig and his eyes shone with surprise. “Well, then, ta, mate,” he said softly, raising his mug. “Not such a robot when it comes to nice feelings after all.” Their eyes locked for a few long seconds, then both looked away. “So, not going to the Yard, what’s on for tonight then?” asked John, reaching for the paper. Sherlock poured them both another splash of Scotch. “I was thinking about a quiet night in,” he said softly, as he set down his mug and went to get his violin.
catko: (clubs) [ profile] gameofcards. Sherlock BBC, Series 3. Can you guess which song I was thinking of for "lyrics?

Love Close Family Holidays Lyrics 
Dramatic Smile Dream Mystery Magic
06 dramatic 09 mystery 10 magic
11 fa 12 fav 13 fav 14 fav 15 fav
16 choice 17 choice 18 choice 19 choice 20 choice
catko: (clubs)
Holiday prompt fic for [ profile] gameofcards. All Mystrade!

Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Pairing: Mycroft/Lestrade, Mystrade
Rating: G
Notes: Prompt—“Christmas invitation (invited by the in-laws/family)” from [ profile] sa_brina86
Word count: 425

Mycroft deposited his umbrella and hat in their customary places in the entry, and brushed off some flakes of snow from his shoulders."White Chirstmas.... )
catko: (Elementary Joan Sig)
...for another Bingo card at [ profile] land_deduction! This time it's quotes from the original!

Both shows... )
catko: (Castle Martha)
These were for a "drabble tag" challenge at [ profile] womenverse where someone writes a drabble, then the next person chooses a three-word phrase from that story and uses it in their own. Rule: all stories must feature women characters, or be about a woman. So...

Castle, Sherlock BBC, Buffy, Firefly, Fringe )
catko: (Giles in London)
For a challenge at [ profile] tv_universe to come up with New Year's Resolutions for fandom characters, including speculation about whether they can keep the resolution! I was inspired by this fun piece and decided to set this in the silly Buffy/Sherlock BBC 'verse that I use from time to time.

Title: Resolutions
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer & Sherlock BBC
Rating: G, with a bit of innuendo

"Hey, guys, here’s a good one,” called out Dawn, looking up from her mobile phone. “ ‘New Year’s Resolutions You Can Actually Achieve!’ Let’s all pick one!” She looked brightly around the long table, set in hotel brunch style. Her excitement was met with bleary stares, in some cases bordering on outright hostility. Only John and Lestrade tried to — unwisely — nod supportively, and only Mycroft and Sherlock seemed to not be in the throes of major hangovers."Dawn, please," said Giles weakly... )

team dish
catko: (Sherlock)
Inspired by, and spoilers for, the trailer for Sherlock Season 3. For a challenge at [ profile] the_deepbluesea.

He runs his hands across his head and tugs, the sensation suddenly reminding him of the crime scene where Sherlock had grabbed him by the hair to exclaim, "It's SIMPLE, you idiot, how can you not see it?" before swirling off to find the essential clue in the garbage skip about fifty yards from the body. He remembers the mixed feeling of irritation and wonderment, and his stomach churns with grief and anger, his hands sliding down to cover his face.

He gets a buzz cut.

He is hurrying to the clinic, late for his shift because of a jam-up on the Tube; the re-emergence of his limp makes it effortful, and with a shaky hand he rubs the sweat beading below his nose. Instantly comes the memory of a post-case rush, ice-blue eyes gazing at his, a strong delicate finger reaching out to stroke his upper lip with such tenderness that his heart lurches even now, making him freeze on the crowded street, pressing his mouth.

He grows a moustache.

He leans on the damp brick wall, fingering the Sig and watches his prey--two figures whispering together in the dark of the alley--when he dank odor of garbage and piss and beer penetrates his concentration, and catapults him back to a memory of an unexpected, mid-case burst of laughing camaraderie with John and Lestrade, in just such an alley, lifetimes ago. He is suddenly paralyzed by the hopeless futility of his quest to ensure the safety of those he loves, without being able to be near those he loves.

He goes home.
catko: (Sherlock)
The challenge was to do a fanmix for a relationship, and I love this friendship, so...this is to commemorate Sherlock and John's first night out on the town. If you listen to anything, try "Take Me Out" (AKA that song they played on iPhones on the New York subway). I always think of these two, and this episode, when I hear it.

covera coverb
Songs and links... )
catko: (Default)
Re-cast a JJ Abrams show with other actors. Hee hee.


recast 22
catko: (Default)
For [ profile] fandomverse, a drabble on the theme of friendship.

"We were good friends, as boys." Clipped, but with a soft sadness that, even given the circumstances, caught Molly by surprise. She shyly up-side-eyed the tall man standing next to her slightly apart from the others as befitting two with a secret that put them at odds with the rest of the gathering.

After the madness of the past many days, she felt her brain enjoying the idle consideration of which was more incongruous - the thought of them as friends, or the thought of them as boys. Actually, the latter she could suddenly picture, but in her mind's-eye as merely miniatures of their adult selves: one small tyke, with random dark curls, long coat, and piercing wild eyes; the elder, carrying a small umbrella, with pursed lips but gentle gaze. A mortifying laugh burst forth, quickly stifled as she and her companion turned to follow the mourners leaving the fresh gravesite of Sherlock Holmes.

sigtag scifi

(The fandom is Sherlock BBC in case not obvious.)

March 2017

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