Requested by @mychakk [I’m sorry I forgot]
: Ok, I think I’ll go with those numbers, feel free to combine them or do them alone or just pick one that fits your fancy anything for sure will make my day :) 9 (Is a chicken really a bird if they can’t fly?), 14 (Fire! Fire! Fire!), 15 (You watched 4 seasons today?), 42 (This cost a thousand dollars?!), 43 (Foreigners…pffft), 102 (Buy me chocolates and tell me everything’s going to be okay), 107 (This house isn’t even haunted) My top favourite ‘verse is the Holmes Family Function (the best), Tom-verse and Vegas. But I’ll love anyhting ;) Huge thank you :) looking forward to them :)
“Is a chicken really a bird if
they can’t fly?”/ “Fire! Fire! Fire!”/ “You
watched 4 seasons today?”/ “This cost a thousand
dollars?!”/ “Foreigners…pffft”/ “Buy me
chocolates and tell me everything’s going to be okay”/ “This
house isn’t even haunted”
Molly walked into her lounge and
It wasn’t as common an occurrence as
one might think, even when taking into account that Sherlock Holmes
had taken over her flat as an annex of his own a few years before;
she was used to all manner of things greeting her at the door when
she returned home from work. Two dogs (on separate occasions), a
monitor lizard, a pathetic Sherlock covered in fly paper, a pathetic
Sherlock covered in bee stings, a pathetic Sherlock covered in
marmalade (as was half her kitchen that time, though she’d got a much
nicer kettle and a new blender out of the deal, so she hadn’t
complained much), a shirtless Wiggins and Sherlock with a tattoo gun,
The Night King himself (okay, yeah, just Mycroft, but with a codename
like Iceman [which she wasn’t supposed to know, but Sherlock also
used her brain as an annex for things he didn’t want to keep in his
own] the comparison was just begging to be made), and now the corpse
of Sherlock’s ex-girlfriend in rigor on her sofa.
Except, no, that wasn’t a corpse. It
was a sex doll. Wearing one of Molly’s cardigans and a pair of her
*extends his hand* Guilty as charged, Molly Hooper.
*blushing* Oh God. Sorry, hi. You look like- I mean, Sherlock never mentioned he had a twin brother
Hmm, it doesn't really come under his favourite subject *pauses* himself.
*grins* Or you.
*hurries over to them, almost spilling his drinks; almost nervous* What are you talking about?
*winks at Molly* Ears burning...
*rolls his eyes* If you must know, I was about to tell Molly Hooper - pathologist, brainy, single, cat lady, sexy as hell *turns to Molly* sorry, I'm paraphrasing but that's the jist *back to Sherlock; slowly* that you fancy her *smug*
For me? *nicks one of Sherlock's drinks* bonsoir, brother dear *leaves*
*clears his throat* I-I don't fancy you. It's a...deep affetion *stares into his remaining glass* I love you.
*holds his free hand, smiling* I love you too.