An extract from a fic I'm working on atm.
- Not sure if I'll be making it a one shot or a chapter fic. Currently over 6000 words (and only the opening events are in place)
A case. Yes! Murder, brilliant. John is standing in the kitchen when Sherlock rushes past. He runs straight to his room, Lestrade can fill him in. He starts to pull through his clothes. Costumes flying across the room as he looks for the right outfit. The door opens behind him. Sherlock turns to see John walking towards him, glass of water in hand. John reaches out and plucks the cigarette from Sherlock's mouth and places it into the glass.Â
"John! We have a case!" Sherlock can't mask his excitement. It really has been too long.Â
John huffs and looks at Sherlock. A tired look crossing over his face. As well as something else Sherlock can't quite place. "Really? I hadn't noticed."Â
Sherlock opens his mouth to voice his thoughts on how could he not possibly know. It took a second for him to sense the sarcasm dripping from John's manner. Instead he looks over John and mentally dresses him for the night. "We're going undercover, The smallest shirt and jeans you own and style your hair. That should suffice." He turns back to his costumes and carries on rooting through them. I know I have jeans here somewhere. Another thought passes through his mind, he turns to shout for John again. "John! Oh," John had not moved from his position. He stood before Sherlock - still holding the glass in his hand. "Lestrade should give you the details, I'll look over it in a bit. Wear those boots. They look good."Â











