Teenlock Chapter 1"John? Who are you staring at?" Sophie asked. John blinked and looked to his friend.
"What?" He said stupidly.
"John," Sophie laughed, "you've been staring at someone for the last five minutes. Now who is it?" Sophie smiled and scooted closer to John. The two friends were out in the courtyard of their high school during lunch. Almost their entire class was milling around in the grass or around the school. John's eyes glided away from Sophie's and back to the person in question.
"There are at least five people I think you're staring at, John. Help me narrow it down here!" Sophie poked John's shoulder lightly and took a bite of her sandwich.
"He's in our grade."
"He? And an eleventh grader.. That leaves two. But, he?" Sophie bit her sandwich again and John bit the inside of his lip.
"Yeah.." He sighed. Well, at least it was Sophie.
"Remind me to talk to you about that later. And please tell me it isn't that boy with the black curls," Sophie practically
Death and what follows -- Chap 1 - A Sherlock FFicThe only way to save John, to save everyone he cares for, is to jump.
He kind of knew it the second he arrived at the rooftop: that this was the hour his game with Moriarty would end.
It would be decided who would lose and who'd win, and one of them would die.
There was no other way to stop this.
He predicted it, he had talked to Molly about death and what would follow, his questions were answered, he knew what he had to do.
And now he knows that there really is no other way, knows how it will end.
Moriarty is dead, he had shot himself in the mouth, his eyes empty, looking at the sky but not seeing it. Blood pooling around his head and Sherlock hopes that he had not left instructions for another round of his deadly game.
Because once he was in the air, falling toward his future, he can no longer help his loved ones.
John will have to look after Mrs Hudson and probably get another flatmate to pay the rent, a thought Sherlock did not like at all.
Lestrade, Donovan and Anderson will have
What is Love -- a Sherlock BBC FanFicBored.
Sherlock groaned and threw himself onto the couch, still in his dressing gown and slippers.
Being alone was so boring.
John was out, shopping, and Mrs Hudson went visiting her sister and wouldn't be back till Monday.
He needed something to distract him from the fact that it had been three days since he solved his last case. Playing the violin didn't help, the crossword puzzle in `The Times´ was already solved (hadn't taken more than seven minutes, five if his pen wouldn't had stopped writing) and Mrs Hudson had hidden his skull.
He wished John was back, but then he would have to go shopping for milk, and that was even more boring.
He decided that watching TV couldn't hurt, and it was funny to predict the plot of that crappy soap operas that were broadcasted in the morning.
And maybe there was something interesting in the news.
After a short time of canal hopping he knew that there was a drought at Southern Africa and that a third class actress was two timing her husb