Got a new chapter up on my selkie!sherlock fic:
Salt in the Wounds Ch. 4: May 1922
When John is called to see Mycroft early one morning, this wasn’t what he was expecting.
In between reading my dry history text that I have to take a quiz on today, I’ve started writing my next Selkie chapter. Here’s some below the cut:
“John, are you in?” Mrs. Hudson’s voice came over the radio. John stretched in his bed and went to the microphone.
“Yes, I’m here. Good morning.”
“’fraid there was a bit of trouble early this morning. We’d like you to come into town. Master Mycroft is asking for you.”
“Of course, I’ll be there soon.” John stretched and glanced out the window at the perfectly clear May day, wondering just what Mycroft would want from him. The calendar read 1922 as he grabbed himself some tea and toast.
Sherlock gave him a bark of greeting as he reached the boat. John reached out touched him. “Two more years, then I’ll get to see you again. Properly.” He bent to his oars and headed for the village.
Okay folks, I have just written the fluffiest piece of johnlock. Like, cute as a box of kittens adorable. With smut on the end, because, well, me. If you want some cutesy adorable romantic johnlock though, give it a look.
Only Three Days Gone: John’s been at a conference the last few days. He comes home to find Sherlock’s been ‘borrowing’ his sweaters.
Teaser below the cut
John paid the cabbie with a sigh. Three days in Yorkshire for a conference in the dead of winter was no one’s idea of a good time. It was damn good to be home and he was looking forward to a warm cuppa and maybe some crap telly while Sherlock told him about whatever cases had come up. His own bed with a Sherlock in it would be nice too. The cold drizzle offered extra encouragement to head inside and up the familiar steps.
Pushing open the familiar door, John, couldn’t help but smile as he shrugged his coat off. Sherlock was curled up on the couch, asleep, wrapped up in one of John’s favorite jumpers. Shaking his head and leaving him there, John stepped into the kitchen to put the kettle on, noticing another jumper on the back of one of the chairs. They had texted the entire time John had been gone, but it seemed maybe Sherlock had missed him more than he let on.
Heading upstairs to drop off his bag, John could see his bed had been slept in, covers thrown to the footboard. The dresser drawer stood open and several jumpers lay on the bed while a few were missing all together. “It was three days, Sherlock,” he said quietly to no one.
“I missed you,” Sherlock’s voice behind him made John jump. He turned and laughed at the sight of Sherlock standing in the doorway, swallowed up by the jumper that rode too high on his stomach.
He stepped closer to Sherlock and placed a warm hand on his exposed skin, pulling him down for a kiss. “I missed you too.”
Sherlock moaned softly into the kiss, nudging John at the bed. Chuckling, John broke the kiss to pick up the jumpers from the bed and toss them at the dresser. “Did you take all of them?”
“It’s been cold,” pouted Sherlock.
Apparently I’m in a mood, so I wrote some angsty Jack/Nine. It’s smut, but yeah, angsty smut.
teaser below the cut
“Why don’t I get some of that?”
“Buy me a drink first.”
**
The Doctor looked up, scowling slightly as Jack Harkness set a drink in front of him.
“What’s this?”
“Not sure. I think maybe the local equivalent of a banana daiquiri.” Jack slid into the seat across from him, watching the Doctor eye the drink warily.
Jack gave him a smile. “I didn’t spike it or anything, if that’s what you’re worried about.” He was a bit a nervous, and no doubt the Doctor was picking up on that. But it wasn’t every day that he tried to seduce a Timelord.
The Doctor sighed and sipped the drink. “I know what you’re on about, Jack. Rose…”
“Is perfectly okay with this,” Jack cut him off. “Said she was going to do a bit of shopping, maybe a pedicure, meet us back at the Tardis. If she needs anything she’ll call.”
“You talked to her, about this?”
“Hey, you told her I’m a fifty-first century guy. We get along quite well while you’re off puttering in some dark corner pretending you don’t look at her with anything other than friendship. She knows how you feel, even if you won’t act on it. In fact, she encouraged me to do this. Or maybe just told me it was my funeral. Can’t quite remember, now.”
Leaning across the table, the Doctor’s eyes turned dark. “You know nothing about how I feel.”
Jack leaned forward, meeting his gaze, smile never leaving his face. “I know what it’s like to want someone, Doc. You keep me at arm’s length too. So this doesn’t have to mean anything else.”
“It wouldn’t mean anything at all.”
Jack’s heart skipped. But if that was all he’d get, he’d take it. He silently cursed himself. Of course he had to fall in love with the impossible ones. He leaned back again, crossing his arms. “We don’t even have to go back to the Tardis.”
The Doctor muttered something about stupid apes as he fiddled with the straw in his drink. Jack started wishing he’d bought himself one. “Fine,” he said at last. “But we’ll go to the Tardis.”
I saw this post yesterday, and got the urge to write Sherlock in high heels. For a case, of course…
So yep, now I’ve gone and wrote crossdressing sherlock.
Teaser below the cut
“This is utterly ridiculous.” John paced in the living room, adjusting his jacket. “Why are we doing this again?”
“We have been over this,” Sherlock’s voice drifted from the bathroom. “Twice in the cab and four times since we arrived home.”
John opened his mouth to argue, but the click of heels made him stop his pacing. He stared up at Sherlock, mouth dropping open.
Instead of his usual stiff flatmate, there stood at a tall red-head, wearing a deep blue dress that set off her eyes and accented curves John suddenly wondered just where the hell Sherlock had been hiding. The dress was just knee length, showing gorgeous legs that fit comfortably into strappy heels.
She smiled and stepped closer to John. “It’s Sheryl.” John was amazed that he’d changed his voice. It was still deep, for a woman, but in a sultry, sexy sort of way that was doing terribly embarrassing things to his body. And they hadn’t even left the flat yet.
He wanted to offer his arm, but in those heels, Sheryl was a good foot taller than him. She smiled. “Go on, be a gentleman and get us a cab.”
I posted a second chapter to my selkie!Sherlock fic. Maybe I should have made it a series instead. I guess we’ll see?
Let’s Write Sherlock, Challenge 4
Title:Salt in the Wounds
Author: janto321 (merindab here on tumblr)
Summary: John Watson is home from the Great War, but he’s never fit in to this tiny fishing village. Has he finally cracked, or is this seal trying to lead him somewhere?
Rating: T
Pairing: NA….yet
Genre: alternate universe
Length: 1895 words
Warnings: suicide attempt
Author notes: Word says it’s 1895, AO3 says 1896, I’m going with Word’s count
Links: AO3