The Girl Who Didn't Make Any Sense

doktah-what:

221bakerstreetannonymous:

actinoutloud:

inspector-radio:

ifyoucomeawaywithme:

the-visual:

abitofholmesandwatson:

#MARRIED AND NOT EVEN SECRETLY

“Hold my hand, John.”

“What?”  I hissed.  The request seemed so absurd, what with things the way they were, that I nearly stopped moving.  We were running for our lives, what kind of request was that?

“Hold my hand.  People are less likely to notice the handcuffs if we’re holding hands.”  Sherlock turned to look at me, that cold, accusing gaze that I had grown so accustomed to seeing, Sherlock’s silent way of admonishing me for not keeping up.

“Right, right.”  I said quickly, taking Sherlock’s outstretched hand.  His glove was surprisingly warm, and the texture of the leather was slightly sticky, sealing our hands together, Sherlock’s long fingers interlaced firmly with mine.

Sherlock, clearly pleased that I was finally following his train of thought, had now diverted his attention back to our escape.  ”This way.”  He said urgently, turning down a busy street, tugging me along after him.  I followed quickly, embarrassed to have gotten so distracted over such a silly thing as a little hand holding.  I tried to turn my attention back to where we were, and where we were going, and suddenly I realised we were somewhere familiar.

“Sherlock, this is the street where those smugglers used to meet.”  I said, looking around worriedly.

“I know.  That’s why I brought us here.  We need to find their new boss.”  Sherlock said almost boredly, and I felt as though I had missed half of the entire day, a feeling I was growing all too used to in the company of Sherlock Holmes.

“We do?  Why?  Surely this makes us easier to track.”  I asked, looking around nervously.

“Of course it does.”  Sherlock said, turning to look at me, and the intensity in his eyes frightened me slightly, this one a feeling I would never get used to.  ”But she’s the only one who can crack the code.”  Sherlock tore his eyes from mine to look around the street, then turned sharply, dragging me suddenly down an alleyway and behind a dumpster.

“Sherlock… wh-” Was all I got out, before Sherlock had pinned me to the brick wall behind me, glancing quickly out to the street before leaning in alarmingly close, to whisper in my ear.  

“There is a man in the street who is very clearly looking for us.  Stay very quiet.”  He hissed, and it suddenly hit me just how close together we were, the rise and fall of his breath pressing his chest to mine every few seconds.  Sherlock didn’t seem to notice, doing what I had mentally nicknamed his meercat move, peeking around all angles hurriedly, taking stock of the environment, and considering all possible scenarios.  He then looked straight back into my eyes, our noses so close they were almost touching, and I felt my heart speed up and my limbs turn to jelly.  How was it that I could survive a bomb strapped to my chest without so much as a wobble in my knee, but a few touches from Sherlock, and suddenly I was jelly.  Our hands were still clasped together, a fact I had nearly forgotten until Sherlock gave my hand a tight squeeze, and kicked my heart up another few notches.

“Keep it together, John.”  He whispered, giving me a Look, and as I opened my mouth to say… something back, he moved in closer and pressed his lips to mine hard, a powerful, violent, totally shocking kiss.  The back of my head hit the wall and I found I didn’t care, kissing him back fiercely without even thinking, our free arms wrapping around one another, pulling each other closer almost automatically, bodies pressed together hard, months of tension and longing I hadn’t even realised were there melting away in this moment that I think both of us had wanted for so, so long.

Finally, Sherlock was the one to break the kiss, leaning back to see out of the alley.  ”Right, looks like he’s gone.”  Sherlock’s usual involved tones weren’t quite there, and he sounded breathless and slightly lightheaded, a thought that gave me some gratification for a few seconds.  And then Sherlock was tugging me by the hand again, out of the alley and back to the case, my knees slightly weak still.  I couldn’t help the enormous grin that had found its way onto my face - somehow I knew things would never be quite the same again.

OMG. 

Oh, GODtiss… Make this happen, please!!

Well now. That left some rather tasty images in mind *u*

ME GUSTA

SQUEEEEEE! Fangirl heart don’t stop please!

O MY HOTNESS

bartyjoonyah:

lovesomehate:

doctorwho:

Do Time Lords Have Two Homes?

HAD… Gallifrey is gone. 

Soo… He had a heart failure?

(Source: bonfirevanities)

will-you-cumber-my-batch:

Where writers club meets

(Source: japhettheprophet)