#pocket!lock

Sherlock Holmes as a Borrower. 

Thankfully for John’s fingers, no. Sherlock’s go-to when he’s outmatched like this is to outsmart and outrun. He’s less inclined to go looking for a fight, or trouble he can’t get out of.

Let’s see how that’s working out for him…

A shadow fell over Sherlock, and he had just enough time to see the mug before it dropped on top of him and trapped him in darkness.

Even with his limp, John was much faster than Sherlock could hope to be on his own.

Not only do we have both tiny Sherlock and tiny John in future AUs, we also have their knacks all planned out and charted!

Trust us when we say you’re not going to want to miss the BA version of pocket!lock!

Have a peek at one that’s in development:

Faster than Sherlock could ever hope to be, the human stepped into the kitchen in time for the tiny man to shoot to his feet.

Doctor John Watson spotted him right away, and he and Sherlock froze.

Silent.

Staring at each other.

Sherlock snapped out of it first, heart pounding as he sprinted for the edge of the table.

“He-hey! Wait!” John cried. Sherlock flinched as the human’s voice bombarded the silence of the room and rumbled through Sherlock’s very being. Then the table beneath his running feet began to shake, and Sherlock threw a glance over his shoulder to find John coming closer, his free hand raised placatingly.

Tag game! Post the first picture that comes up in your camera roll and tag some people!

Tagged by @watsonyourbed [your new layout is so cute btw]

Recently having feelings about pocket!lock and pocket!molly thanks to this lovely post, but now it's also mixed with pocket!Khan.

Just like:

Pocket! Khan using a pin to attack his enemies.

Pocket!Khan being able to lift an entire book, and showing off his 'superior' strenght to Molly.

Molly buying Pocket!Khan a really big dollhouse, so he can pretend its his old Indian palace. He doesn't seem to find funny at all that the colour of the house is pink, though.

Pocket!Khan kept on a cage the size of a shoebox when Starfleet captures him.

Pocket!Molly caressing Khan's finger soothingly, when he gets mad at someone.

Khan building Pocket!Molly all kind of miniaturized vehicles to help her move through The Vengeance, though he prefers her to be on the palm of his hand, with his fingers curled protectively and possessively around her.

Khan giving Pocket!Molly all the doll's fancy dresses she wants, because he really like how all those short clothes hung to her small frame.

And my personal favorite:

Dawn broke over a mist covered London. Being so immersed in their conversation, John and Sherlock did not even realize morning had arrived until the light began to filter in through the window. For a long moment they stared at the hazy glow as it gradually filled the room. “I suppose we should leave soon.” Sherlock observed nonchalantly. John didn’t reply. He was feeling suddenly very much conflicted. Had he actually enjoyed talking to this bean? It seemed too extraordinary to believe. And yet here they were, emerging from a cocoon of engaging discussion by the arrival of daylight, a reminder of the reality around them. Had he really lost track of time? “My parents are going to be worried sick.” He finally mumbled dejectedly. At first he thought Sherlock hadn’t heard his quiet worry but the bean’s thoughtful gaze upon him proved otherwise. With a grunt of affirmation, and a surprising burst of speed, Sherlock hopped off of the bed. The sudden shift in weight sent John sprawling. “Oy! At least warn me when you’re about to dash off!” He exclaimed. “Sorry,” a small hint of a smile around the bean’s face convinced John of the opposite. With swift, determined movements, Sherlock unzipped his duffle bag and acquired a dark blue hoody from its depths. Before he had gotten it halfway over his head, however, there was a loud knock at the door. “Maintenance!” Shouted a female voice from the other side. The knob began to turn. Before John could even begin to panic, Sherlock had finished dressing and, before he could issue a word of protest, had snatched the borrower from his very exposed position on the bed. The door opened revealing a bright-eyed young woman pulling a trolley covered in cleaning equipment. “Excuse me, I am still here.” Sherlock observed quite testily. “You paid for one night, my dear boy, now it’s daytime. Off with you!” The lady was not at all put off by Sherlock’s manner and hummed about her business. “My dear miss Hudson, what is it you actually do in these rooms? They are never clean.” She shrugged, “they can be clean, when I have a mind to clean them.” As this exchange took place, John found himself in a very uncomfortable position. He held his breath, trying not to think as the space he was inhabiting moved and shifted unsettlingly. What he wouldn’t give to be back on solid ground. As fast as he could, while at the same time being extremely careful, Sherlock grabbed his bag and left the hotel. When they were quite clear of the place, he felt a sudden pain in the palm of his hand. He quickly moved his arm around to see what was the matter. John felt like he was suffocating. This was the single most unpleasant experience of his young life. Sherlock’s quick movements were enough to make him lose his supper, if he had eaten anything recently. Therefore, It was such a relief when he felt the cool morning air. With a great deal of concentration and effort, his body was having difficulty cooperating, John moved his hand until he felt Sherlock’s. Then, with as much force as he could muster, he pinched the bean hard. He had planned to yell at him. Indeed, the little borrower was fuming, uncomfortable, and, worst of all, afraid. He was well within his rights to yell. But, being once again face-to-face with the bean, he was speechless. His body shook uncontrollably. ‘Damn,’ he thought fiercely. ‘Damn this! My body-why am I so helpless?’ His dark thoughts were interrupted by Sherlock speaking. “Sorry about that. I’m afraid Miss Hudson has a tendency to worry. She only came to that room to check on me.” John took a deep breath, “Sherlock-“ “She’s harmless, really. Just something of a busybody.” “Sherlock!” His shout stopped the bean in his tracks. “I’d rather not…” John’s voice trailed off. He wasn’t exactly sure what to say and he felt suddenly overwhelmed by exhaustion. Looking at his newfound friend, Sherlock realized just how worn out he was. He also noticed how uncomfortable he seemed in his hand. Understanding the problem, he considered a moment before gently placing the borrower in pocket of his hoody. Almost immediately, John fell into a deep slumber. More tired than he ever remembered being, he did not dream, but simply drifted in a sea of black nothingness. In this manner, John rested, and he would not wake up until many hours had passed…

"You look bloody awful." To his own surprise, he said this with a fair amount of force, and most likely louder than was necessary. The bean gasped in shock, running a hand through his hair in disbelief. Idiot! What was he thinking? Saying something like that to a giant!? John swallowed nervously, completely unsure of what to do. “Eh, that is, wh-what I meant was-“ His awkwardness was interrupted, however, by a very large hand reaching for him all too quickly. “W-W-Wait!” He practically squeaked, screwing his eyes shut in terror as an uncomfortable warmth enveloped him. But nothing else happened. He was not lifted into the air or completely crushed by a sudden force. Instead, something pressed gently against his chest, over his heart, which was pounding away like a bass drum. He opened his eyes to find that it was the bean’s thumb. “You’re really real.” The voice was soft and full of amazement. John looked up cautiously. The boys expression was just a bit too curious for his liking. “Of course I’m real! I could’ve told you that, idiot!” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but John was almost past the point of caring. If the bean was going to do something terrible, he had better do it faster or the suspense alone would kill him! “S-sorry,” the hand was suddenly withdrawn, “I thought I might be hallucinating. My head got hit pretty hard.” These words shocked the borrower more than anything. A bean was apologizing to him. And after he called him an idiot nonetheless. Furthermore, he hadn’t considered this particular bean to be the type to apologize to anyone. Perhaps his head was more rattled than he had first imagined. “I saw that.” John said darkly, “those guys beating you up.” He added at the bean’s questioning look. “Then it was you,” the giant remarked. Now it was John’s turn to look confused. “You made that whistle sound and scared them off.” “How do you figure that?” “There is no one else here, thus it couldn’t have been the police. Such a unique and high sound had to have come from something small, yet it was definitely organic, so not a toy whistle. You fit the criteria, although, it was longer and louder than I would have imagined your lungs capable of.” “Oh, that was good, though I can assure you that my lungs are plenty capable.” Sherlock brushed it off, but John saw his mouth form something of a small smile. The bean must not be used to much praise of any kind. “That was a simple deduction. No, the only thing I don’t understand is why?” The boy’s look changed, his fiercely blue eyes bore into John. He felt as though their very gaze pierced him through with a determined kind of curiosity. It made the borrower angry. How dare this bean look at him as though he were some specimen under a microscope. How dare he, especially knowing how John saved his ass. Then again, he had refrained from any kind of unwanted contact, mostly, and was simply asking a perfectly reasonable question. So John tried to get his whirling emotions under control before responding. “Common decency, maybe.” Despite his best efforts, a fair amount of attitude mixed with his tone. The bean’s mouth curved in an amused smile. “But that still doesn’t explain why you would put yourself in danger of being discovered by approaching me, even in my unconscious state.” John felt himself blush. Really, he knew that he had no good reason for what he had done. “C’mon, you could’ve been dead for all I knew.” “So you were worried for my well being,” John’s blush went deeper and he hoped to God the bean couldn’t see it. “I find it hard to believe that you would risk your life for that as there wouldn’t be much you could do in a medical emergency. In any case, your actions suggest you need me for something.” “Stupid! What could I possibly need a bean for?” Though he hated to admit it, even to himself, John did need him. He had no idea where he was and the only way he was getting back in one piece was with the bean’s help. “A what? Bean?” “You know, a human bean. It’s what you are, or at least, what we call you.” “We?” Crap! John hadn’t meant to say that. He was becoming all to comfortable in this situation. It wouldn’t do for him to reveal any more. His silence, however, was all Sherlock needed. “I see,” he thought a moment. “You came with me, in my bag, so you need me to get you back home.” John didn’t say anything, but the surprise showed clearly in his face. A feeling of dread was growing in the pit of his stomach like a black hole. Things were not going well for him. The poor borrower was quickly losing all sense control and he didn’t like it one bit. “If that’s the case,” Sherlock stood, though a little unsteadily, and retrieved his bag, setting it down in front of the borrower, “You should come with me.” “I beg your pardon!?” “It’s dangerous out here.” Sherlock explained. “How do I know this isn’t some sort of trap?” “You helped me out, the least I can do is return the favor.” Considering his options, John realized that he didn’t have much of a choice. It only took him a moment to make up his mind. “I don’t even know your name, though.” He remarked half-jokingly. “It’s Sherlock Holmes, I’m surprised you didn’t already know that. We live in the same house after all.” John replied as he clambered back inside the duffle bag pocket, “To be honest, I only know you people as the Holmes family. I never paid much attention to you or your affairs.” “I see…and your name?” Sherlock asked in return. “John, John Watson.” “A pleasure to meet you, John.” It looked like Sherlock tried to smile, but his face was badly swollen, and the result was not exactly pretty. “We should probably get back soon, you’re not looking so good.” Not that John was worried about him, he just really needed to get home. “Not yet,” Sherlock replied, “I’m not going back there just yet.” “Huh? Wait a second, then where are you taking me?!” This was certainly an unwelcome twist for the unlucky borrower. “Somewhere we can talk more. I’ve still got a lot of questions for you. Don’t worry, we’ll go home in the morning.” “That doesn’t make me feel any better,” grumbled John. The bean, he supposed he should call him Sherlock now, was certainly not what he was expecting, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t dangerous. John sighed in exasperation, wondering what on earth would become of him…

The band of bullies froze, some in mid-kick, listening dumbly as the piercing sound faded and finally died. “What the hell was that?” The question shattered the shocked atmosphere. “Crap! It’s the cops! Let’s get outa here quick.” And so they dispersed, some parting with a last halfhearted kick at Sherlock’s still form. The last to leave was the one who had started it. He looked down on Sherlock with malice in his eyes. “Tch! Coppers gotta ruin every damn thing.” He muttered before hurrying after the others. Silence descended as their footsteps faded away. Watson sat there, stunned by what he himself had done. The still night air chilled him to the bone. His heart was racing so fast he had to force himself to take deep breaths in order to calm down. ‘Well, that was…new.’ He thought incredulously. At least now all he had to do was get back in the duffle bag and wait for the guy to go back home. Surely, after a beating like that, the bean would have the sense to give up on his escapade or whatever it was he was doing out here. But he didn’t move. John waited, but the boy showed no sign of stirring. ‘Crap, is he dead?’ The borrower wondered. ‘That would be just my rotten luck!’ Despite his better judgement, John felt the urge to approach the still giant. Staring at the lifeless-looking body awoke a strange feeling within him. Was it pity? Not exactly. It was more like…a need. The kid was an idiot, but then again, so was John. He didn’t know why, but he felt a need to help him. With a heavy sigh of “ohmani’mgonnaregretthisinthenearfuture,” the borrower steeled his courage and stepped forward into what he was sure was going to be the biggest mistake of his short life.

Heading straight towards a thing he was told since he was young never to approach under any circumstances made John nervous, which was not a feeling he experienced often. Honestly, he didn’t like it one bit. However, he had already made his mind up, turning back now seemed impossible. As he got closer, Watson noticed the steady rising and falling of the bean’s body and quickened his pace. At least the Holmes boy was breathing, that was certainly something. John himself was a bit out of breath as he finally reached the giant’s massive head. With a frown, he tried to think of what exactly he had planned to do at this point. The bean was lying slightly curled in on himself, one arm covered his head in a defensive position. Because of this, John could not see his face. With a heart full of trepidation, the young borrower took a step closer. Then another. And another. He could actually hear the bean breathing now. It was an unsettling, deep rumble, like a snoring dragon. Swallowing his fear, John stretched out a hand and, though every instinct screamed at him to stop, rested it on the giant’s arm. For a moment nothing happened. A nervous sort of giggle escaped the borrower as relief flooded through his system. What had he expected? That the world would suddenly end? He had confirmed the bean was alive and there wasn’t anything more he could do for him. He may as well return to the relative safety of the duffle bag and wait for the giant to recover on his own. Whatever insanity had possessed John to go so far had suddenly deserted him, leaving him feeling quite drained. Just as he made up his mind to retreat, however, the bean stirred. Muttering in a deep and somewhat muffled voice, John only caught a few of his words; “…obviously not the police…” That was all it took to freeze the borrower on the spot. Gradually, Sherlock’s voice grew stronger as consciousness was restored to him. “The sound was too high for a police whistle, also a bit long and only sounded once. The tone and pitch of it…likely human without artificial aid…” The giant shifted, startling Watson. He took a few hurried steps back as the bean was making to rise. “But the question remains…who? And for what purpose? If they were trying to help me, then…where…?” The bean began to look around, searching for the answers to these questions. Every muscle in John’s tiny body tensed. He wanted to run. He itched to flee, just to start running and not look back. But it was far too late for that now. All he could do now was hope for a miracle. When the giant’s head turned his way, the borrower felt like he was going to burn from the inside out. With fear and trembling he looked up to meet the other’s eyes. Those eyes, they were shockingly blue and wide with surprise. His expression of slack jawed amazement would have been comical had it not been so massive. As it was, massive and covered in bruises, it was like something out of a horror story. John watched as the shock turned to disbelief. The bean’s hands twitched as though he were unsure what to do with them. Figuring that he should probably do something before things got out of hand, or rather before John ended up crushed IN one of the giant’s hands, the borrower spoke up. “You look bloody awful.”

I’m sooooo sorry you guys! I meant to get this up earlier and I also meant for there to be a whole lot more but I have finals and I’m a major procrastinator pleasepleaseplease forgive me?!!

*deep, calming breaths* okay, I know I promised a meeting, well…this is the beginning of one anyway :/ It took me way too long to figure out John’s first words to Sherlock (I’m also afraid the grammar is bad ‘cause I was trying to write fast). I hate to keep it at such a cliffhanger, but FINALS @_@ yeah, I figured I should at least post what I have so far before the week really gets going…