Baby Please Don't Go - Part 1
anonymous
March 27 2011, 07:36:31 UTC
The day that changed Sherlock Holmes’ life forever began with three words.
*
“Sherlock, I’m leaving.”
Sherlock looked up from his pipette, frustrated. John always managed to interrupt him at the most delicate part of his experiments. Honestly, did the man have no sense of how important Sherlock’s experiments were? He frowned at John, who stood opposite him, leaning against the fridge, a tight expression on his face.
“Mm, okay, makes sure you get milk,” Sherlock said, returning to his attention to his equipment, delicately measuring out 15 millilitres of sodium hydroxide. John sighed.
“No, I don’t mean I’m going out now,” he said. “I mean that...”
John’s voice trailed off. Sherlock looked up quickly, hearing the tension in John’s voice. He fixed his eyes on John, his mind racing ahead, trying to deduce John’s next words before he spoke them.
Arms crossed: defensive; jaw tensed: worried. Forehead creased, as it always is when he’s about to give bad news. Something personal. Eyes steady, though, so he’s sure of whatever it
( ... )
Re: Baby Please Don't Go - Part 1b
anonymous
March 27 2011, 14:55:24 UTC
This is amazing! I felt so bad for poor John when Sherlock congratulated him! And Sherlock! He doesn't know it, but he'll never survive without his John. Brilliant start!
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 2a
anonymous
March 27 2011, 22:21:37 UTC
Two weeks later, at 10:53 pm, Sherlock found himself sitting in the back of an ambulance with a bruised and grinning John Watson, both of them protesting that no, they weren’t actually in shock.
Lestrade sighed.
“Look, guys,” he began, in the tone of a man who has had this conversation before and will have it again, and does not derive one ounce of pleasure from the prospect. “I’m fairly certain this man did not just fall down three flights of stairs and break both his arms by accident. However, since he was, in fact, the rapist we’ve been trying unsuccessfully to catch for ten days, I am willing to not ask too many questions.”
John laughed; Sherlock smiled at the sound.
“An admirable notion, Inspector,” he said, winking at Lestrade. “God, I’m going to miss this,” he added.
Sherlock frowned. Despite knowing for two weeks now that John was leaving, he had simply not been able to grow accustomed to the idea. Every time John mentioned it, he felt an unpleasant jolt in his stomach, which was ridiculous. He knew John was leaving, this
( ... )
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 2b
anonymous
March 27 2011, 22:22:30 UTC
“ - but I thought the two of you were...” Lestrade finished his sentence with a hand wave, which John appeared to understand, because he shrugged in reply.
“Yeah, so did I. Sometimes, at least. It’s hard to tell with him, y’know?”
Lestrade nodded emphatically.
“I just, I can’t wait forever.” John looked sad and resigned and a little bit hurt, and the sight of it twisted Sherlock’s insides in a way he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Fair enough, mate,” Lestrade said, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder.
John, finally spotting Sherlock over Lestrade’s shoulder, didn’t reply. He smiled at Sherlock instead.
“Ready to go?” he asked, hopping down from the ambulance.
“When you are,” Sherlock returned shortly. He was completely bewildered by what he’d overheard, and that made him grumpy. He hated not understanding things
( ... )
Re: Baby Please Don't Go - OP!!!
anonymous
March 27 2011, 22:45:52 UTC
OP LOVES YOU!!!!! Cannot contain the giddy. The giddy cannot be contained. That is all. Squeeing forever!
Both of these bits are hilarious:
He loved that, love being able to deduce everything about John’s day just from the way said the word ‘Evening’ or ‘Chilly, isn’t it?’ or ‘Sherlock, fuck off, I’ve had a bloody awful day and I am not in the mood to talk to you right now.’ Although possibly even Anderson would have been able to deduce that last one.
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 3a
anonymous
March 28 2011, 13:30:37 UTC
Sherlock reached for the box resting next to the sofa and slapped another patch on his arm. He was going to solve this, dammit, or die trying, most likely from nicotine poisoning
( ... )
Baby Please Don't Go - Part 3b
anonymous
March 28 2011, 13:32:10 UTC
When John returned from the pub three hours later (a little farewell do put on by his colleagues), Sherlock was still curled up on the sofa. He stared hazily at John as he took off his coat and hung it up, making his way into the kitchen, blowing on his hands. He glanced over at Sherlock
( ... )
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*
“Sherlock, I’m leaving.”
Sherlock looked up from his pipette, frustrated. John always managed to interrupt him at the most delicate part of his experiments. Honestly, did the man have no sense of how important Sherlock’s experiments were? He frowned at John, who stood opposite him, leaning against the fridge, a tight expression on his face.
“Mm, okay, makes sure you get milk,” Sherlock said, returning to his attention to his equipment, delicately measuring out 15 millilitres of sodium hydroxide. John sighed.
“No, I don’t mean I’m going out now,” he said. “I mean that...”
John’s voice trailed off. Sherlock looked up quickly, hearing the tension in John’s voice. He fixed his eyes on John, his mind racing ahead, trying to deduce John’s next words before he spoke them.
Arms crossed: defensive; jaw tensed: worried. Forehead creased, as it always is when he’s about to give bad news. Something personal. Eyes steady, though, so he’s sure of whatever it ( ... )
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Great start. Poor Sherlock, he has no idea what's going on, and his subconscious is going to beat him up till he does.
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Lestrade sighed.
“Look, guys,” he began, in the tone of a man who has had this conversation before and will have it again, and does not derive one ounce of pleasure from the prospect. “I’m fairly certain this man did not just fall down three flights of stairs and break both his arms by accident. However, since he was, in fact, the rapist we’ve been trying unsuccessfully to catch for ten days, I am willing to not ask too many questions.”
John laughed; Sherlock smiled at the sound.
“An admirable notion, Inspector,” he said, winking at Lestrade. “God, I’m going to miss this,” he added.
Sherlock frowned. Despite knowing for two weeks now that John was leaving, he had simply not been able to grow accustomed to the idea. Every time John mentioned it, he felt an unpleasant jolt in his stomach, which was ridiculous. He knew John was leaving, this ( ... )
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“Yeah, so did I. Sometimes, at least. It’s hard to tell with him, y’know?”
Lestrade nodded emphatically.
“I just, I can’t wait forever.” John looked sad and resigned and a little bit hurt, and the sight of it twisted Sherlock’s insides in a way he couldn’t begin to understand.
“Fair enough, mate,” Lestrade said, patting him sympathetically on the shoulder.
John, finally spotting Sherlock over Lestrade’s shoulder, didn’t reply. He smiled at Sherlock instead.
“Ready to go?” he asked, hopping down from the ambulance.
“When you are,” Sherlock returned shortly. He was completely bewildered by what he’d overheard, and that made him grumpy. He hated not understanding things ( ... )
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Both of these bits are hilarious:
He loved that, love being able to deduce everything about John’s day just from the way said the word ‘Evening’ or ‘Chilly, isn’t it?’ or ‘Sherlock, fuck off, I’ve had a bloody awful day and I am not in the mood to talk to you right now.’ Although possibly even Anderson would have been able to deduce that last one.
“Yeah, and I went completely grey at 46.”
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Sherlock... bless his heart -- he has no idea what he's losing by acting so nonchalant~ <3
Brilliant update! :D
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