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Literature Text
Sherlock was galloping through his deductions when Lestrade’s phone rang.
“Hold on,” said Lestrade, and then paused. “That’s odd.”
He showed the display to John.
“Number withheld: please pass phone to Sherlock Holmes,” John read out.
“Don’t answer it!" shouted Sherlock.
John stared at him. “Is this something to do with Mycroft?”
Sherlock turned abruptly and strode away.
At the lab they bumped into Molly. Almost immediately her mobile rang.
“Um..?” she said gazing at the screen.
“Message for Sherlock Holmes?” asked John.
“Turn your phone off now,” said Sherlock.
There had been a determined dash through miles of London backstreets but the suspect had managed to get away.
“Damn,” said Sherlock. “We’ll have to-”
John’s phone rang.
“It’s that weird message again,” he said. He glanced up at Sherlock. “It must be relevant. I’m answering it.”
Sherlock lunged but it was too late.
“Hello? Yes. Yes, he is.”
He held out the phone to Sherlock in bewilderment.
“It’s your mother.”
Sherlock sighed. He took the mobile.
“Yes?” he said. He sighed again. “Yes, a scarf and gloves. Mummy, I am thoroughly wrapped up.”
“This is why I prefer to text,” said Sherlock as he handed the phone back to John. He looked at his colleague sharply. “Are you laughing?”
“No,” said John innocently. “I’m just a bit out of breath.”
“Hold on,” said Lestrade, and then paused. “That’s odd.”
He showed the display to John.
“Number withheld: please pass phone to Sherlock Holmes,” John read out.
“Don’t answer it!" shouted Sherlock.
John stared at him. “Is this something to do with Mycroft?”
Sherlock turned abruptly and strode away.
At the lab they bumped into Molly. Almost immediately her mobile rang.
“Um..?” she said gazing at the screen.
“Message for Sherlock Holmes?” asked John.
“Turn your phone off now,” said Sherlock.
There had been a determined dash through miles of London backstreets but the suspect had managed to get away.
“Damn,” said Sherlock. “We’ll have to-”
John’s phone rang.
“It’s that weird message again,” he said. He glanced up at Sherlock. “It must be relevant. I’m answering it.”
Sherlock lunged but it was too late.
“Hello? Yes. Yes, he is.”
He held out the phone to Sherlock in bewilderment.
“It’s your mother.”
Sherlock sighed. He took the mobile.
“Yes?” he said. He sighed again. “Yes, a scarf and gloves. Mummy, I am thoroughly wrapped up.”
“This is why I prefer to text,” said Sherlock as he handed the phone back to John. He looked at his colleague sharply. “Are you laughing?”
“No,” said John innocently. “I’m just a bit out of breath.”
Literature
Hard Day's Night
It’s been a hard day’s night
John dragged his feet up the stairs. He’d been called into A&E because of a huge fire that had broken out near Westminster, and because of the sheer number of casualties he’d been forced to work nigh on six hours after he’d already worked a 12-hour day at the hospital.
And I’ve been working like a dog
It wasn’t that John particularly minded working at the hospital, but he wished he’d had more than just two hours between times. He was sure that after all that time, Sherlock would’ve had something else explode in the microwave a
Literature
Dear Sherlock
Dear Sherlock,
I know you won't get this, being dead and all, but I just want to write down everything that you've put me through in the last three years. Just to get it off my chest. Help me tie off loose ends and move on, without having you in my mind. I have to let you go. Even though I can still hear your words, your voice.
Year 1
I remember having a conversation about you with Lestrade:
"You know he's was never a real person." Lestrade said behind him.
I never believed those words.
"He was just a machine, in the form of a person. We all knew this is how it would end."
I shook my head, knowing Lestrade was already out the door by t
Literature
To John
To John,
I was a bad influence on you. I always was. You would have taken the blame if we were ever caught; so I did it for you.
I can't even try to think about how much pain you went through these past years without me. But you're much better off. I would have been the death of you; and I wouldn't have been able to hold that weight.
I've been keeping an eye on you every now and then, see how you're holding up.
Thank you for letting me go. I know you'll have a wonderful life without the worry of me. I was never worthy. I will never be worthy.
I will not explain how I did it, in fear you will be targeted, but I will say that you were the
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Sherlock fanfiction: a 221B - a story 221 words long, final word beginning with "b". 221B form invented by ~KCScribbler (KCS).
It's funny - when I first watched Sherlock and heard the line, "I prefer to text", I thought: Oh, that's a reference to the Victorian Holmes always writing notes and sending off telegrams. However, what had never crossed my mind (until reading online articles recently) is that the original Holmes doesn't use the telephone, even though this would have been cutting-edge technology for him. He too prefers to text ^^
My other 221Bs can be found here.
It's funny - when I first watched Sherlock and heard the line, "I prefer to text", I thought: Oh, that's a reference to the Victorian Holmes always writing notes and sending off telegrams. However, what had never crossed my mind (until reading online articles recently) is that the original Holmes doesn't use the telephone, even though this would have been cutting-edge technology for him. He too prefers to text ^^
My other 221Bs can be found here.
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