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Um…. I wrote Martin Crieff/Greg Lestrade…

Local Flavor – Martin Crieff gets picked up at a bar by Greg Lestrade

This one is entirely RJ’s fault.

teaser below the cut

Greg smiled at the ginger. “Come here often?”

Martin stammered at the dark eyed, silver haired man. “Me?”

“Yeah, you,” Greg looked him up and down. “Haven’t seen you here before.”

Martin picked up his drink and quickly chugged the rest. “I’m an airplane Captain. Just here on a layover.”

“Oh, a Captain?” Greg stepped closer, touching his arm.

Blushing furiously, Martin stood a little straighter. “Yes.”

“Well since you’re only here for the night, I could show you something of the local flavor.”

Martin stammered, looking around a moment before meeting his eyes. “I suppose so. I’m Martin.”

“Greg,” he smiled warmly. “My car’s right outside.”

Watching Greg walk towards the door, Martin took a breath. Well it was better than sleeping on the plane, since he’d lost his hotel room to Douglas. Again. He followed Greg to his car.

continue on AO3

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Random thought for silly lightheartedness. Imagine after the whole plane scene at the end of the season, John and Sherlock are hanging out at Bakers Street & Sherlock is rearranging thing (say because his mind palace was rearranged too) & he finds his harpoon & starts whisking it about the air & John is all irritated & he shouts, “Stop shaking that spear /William/” & then stops & starts to giggle about William Shakespeare & Sherlock is just oblivious & is like STOP LAUGHING WHY ARE YOU LAUGHING?

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Stitchy inspired me to write a prostitute John story, and it looks like this is going to be another mulit-chapter fic. Not sure where it’s going quite yet.

Ilium – When John was injured and sent home, he found the only work he could do was the oldest profession. That was where Sherlock stumbled into his life. Now leaving that life behind may be the most difficult challenge yet.

teaser below the cut

John watched as the slender man came into the parlor. Dark tousled hair, pale eyes. A man like that sure didn’t need to pay for sex. But well, all kinds came in here. He looked around with eyes that seemed to take in everything. At least he was looking at more than just the men who worked here. The man met his eyes. John stopped breathing a moment, then put on his smile and moved closer. Probably kinky as hell if he was here. Either way, long as he paid, he’d do his best. And his best was damn good.

“Evening,” he said.

He looked John over in a way that felt like he was finding every fault and flaw. John stiffened his back and met the scrutiny. The stranger raised an eyebrow.

“Afghanistan or Iraq?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re a soldier. Not home very long. But working here.”

“Yeah, well, we’ve all got reasons. Promise I can still make it worth your while. Name’s John.”

He shifted. “Sherlock.”

continue on AO3

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letalkingmime replied to your post “Oh with the second chapter bit I have two comments. When John and Sherlock leave the morgue and John says “thank you,” I think mentioning who he’s saying it to will be nice (like thanks sherlock for telling me or thanks molly for coming in and telling us about the bodies) and second is I think there should be a little more info between sherlock says john would look too military otherwise and john tripping over the coffee table. Did the statement make him stumble or was it the outfit??? Mystery~”

Why the heckie did it turn me on anon??? Mime is confuseeddddddd~ (oh and thanks. makes much more sense)

ooh, it was  yoooou. lol. Well I thought it was clear. that’s okay you gave me an opportunity to make myself giggle about sherlock menacing john with hair gel 🙂