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(via Liunatic Fringe (@liunaticfringe) • Instagram photos and videos)

Well if we don’t have any new #LucyLiu pics, this is a pretty good substitute. ;) #CashmereMafia #Repost@erinayanianmonroe with @repostapp
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Lucy, all eyes and cheekbones getting her hair finished by Colleen Callaghan during the pilot for Cashmere Mafia, NYC, 2007. Vintage Valentino dress. #flashbackfriday #fbf #lucyliu#joanwatson #elementary #babe#makeupartist #mua #pilot #cateye#liquidliner #freckles

ELEMENTARY FICLET : "MORE"

Joan paces the room, her eyebrows knitted, face exasperated.
“Why don’t you understand, Sherlock? The only thing that has kept me sane for the past two years has been the work that we do. It is the only thing that has made me happy. Do I want more friends? Sure, but I’ve changed… and it’s harder to make friends when I can see right through people. I can practically see the lies when I go on dates. I can see… the artificialness that I never noticed before. So I can’t have the companionship that I used to have. And I know that we’re friends but we’re partners, more than that. Almost everything we do is work related. We eat meals and we sleep in the same house and we solve cases but… ”
She didn’t know how to complete the sentence.
“You want more?”, Sherlock asks, trying to conceal the anxiety inside him. He doesn’t make eye contact at first, but then he looks up at her and their eyes meet.
Did she want more from life, or did she want more from him?

To see the preface of this fic, click here.@nairobiwonders
ELEMENTARY ficlet : Preface to "MORE"

Sherlock closed the front door behind him and proceeded to walk towards the kitchen, but spotted Watson in the hall.
“Oh hey. I’ve just been back from the precinct. You were right about Daniel Mascado”, he said as he laid out the contents of the case files on the desk. “He was not, as we earlier suspected, at his sister’s place at the time of Kate Mascado’s murder. They’re calling him to the precinct again this evening for questioning.” Sherlock began to pin up the papers on the bulletin board. “I have to say Watson, I still find it hard to believe that he’s the killer. He doesn’t seem to possess the usual traits”, he said, pinning up photos of their suspects. “Regardless, we should still go when they call him in. We might pick up on something the police don’t.”
At this point, Sherlock realised that he had been the only one speaking for a while. He looked up to ask Watson for her thoughts on the case, but when he saw her face he realised something wasn’t right. “Watson, what’s wrong?, he asked.
“What? Oh nothing. No, you’re right, I’ll tell Marcus we’re coming.”
“ You’ve been crying”, said Sherlock, concern now creeping into his voice. The last time he had caught her crying, it was because she had just found out that she had a half sister. How much did she cry when he wasn’t around?
Watson got up and walked to the kitchen, but Sherlock followed close behind. He stood at the door frame while she began to prepare tea. “You know there’s no point denying it. I can tell just by looking at you.” She did not respond.
He decided that it was time he brought up the things that had been eating him up inside lately.
“What’s been going on with you, Watson? You’ve been a little on the melancholic side lately. You don’t go out, you don’t meet friends. Your characteristic joie de vivre seems to have flickered out. Things have been… different, to say the least.” Still no response. How was she so good at being silent? “It would appear,“ he continued, “that something is missing. And has been missing for quite some time. The balance that I admire so much has been compromised and I need to fix it. I have to fix it.”
Watson bent down to remove the teacups from the bottom drawer. “I can’t explain it, Sherlock. Just forget it alright? Don’t worry about me. We have to focus on this case.” She stood up and realised that he was now standing right next to her. Sherlock’s eyes were now focused squarely on hers. He looked deep into her eyes- just like he always did right before he said something that would break her heart into a million pieces.
“It kills me, Watson. You can’t even begin to imagine how much it kills me to see you like this.” His voice was low, almost a whisper. “You know you are everything to me. So to be unable to help you is nothing less than an immense failure on my part. Let me help you. Please.”
Watson couldn’t bare the intensity in those brilliant blue eyes of his for a second longer. She looked away.
He continued. “I’m not giving up, Joan. Maybe you aren’t ready. Maybe you don’t know how to tell me.“ He paused. “But know this. No matter what happens, I will never stop trying to make you happy.
And then Joan Watson heard the sound of her heart breaking into a million pieces.

[To see the part that comes after this, click

here.]

@joaneuglassiawatson

@possibility221          too much?  @fyeahjoanlock

You all say I’ve crossed a line,
But the sad fact is I’ve lost my mind

And I’m just getting started, let me offend
The devil’s got nothing on me my friend

Can you see they tell you lies thus keeping you weak
Leave me, my heart is dead for all to see

All I want is to be left alone
Tact from me is like blood from a stone

—  “Beekeeper” by Keaton Henson.
[From: “Elementary”, 3x24; ‘A Controlled Descent’ ]