Greg Lestrade welcomed the warmth of the nightclub as he stepped in. December is already icy and bleak, and for once the stuffy club a blessing from the chill.
 John stayed posted near the door with a nod to him and Sherlock as both men pocketed their gloves. Greg handed his coat to the coat check, but Sherlock kept his as usual.
  Greg scanned the room, eyes adjusting to the mixture of darkness, coloured lights, fairy light strands, and glittery clothes. Two Drag queens on stage set the crowded room into rolling laughter. Greg listened to their set and cackled at the banter.
 Sherlock remained at his side, silent and wholly uninterested. Greg elbowed him in his side.Â
 âWeâre supposed to look like weâre out here after work.â
 âYes⌠we really look the type, donât we?â Sherlock said with a mocking shake of his head.Â
 Greg squinted and waved his hand, âOh shut it.â
 Sherlock spoke low near Greg's ear. âYes.. plan is, the suspect in question slips out during the show. Thatâs the suspicion, anyway. John has the front covered.â
 âAnd Sally the back,â Greg said, rubbing near his mouth to obscure in case there was a lip reader in the crowd. âWeâre set. Talked to one performer yesterday, and they said they got a big holiday number tonight. The suspect was pretty miffed they were cut from it for a new girl, apparently. Theyâve been stealing all the performersâ tips, but they got motive tonight,â Greg said with a smirk as he looked around Sherlock checking Johnâs location.Â
 Sherlock shrugged as if in boredom, and Greg rolled his eyes as he sighed. âLook, itâs petty crime, but apparently they know some people in something bigger.â
âBigger?âÂ
 Greg shrugged, considering taking the jacket off of his dark grey wool suit. âYeah⌠drugs maybe? Hey, the performer I talked to said they chat about having a boyfriend in some sort of criminal organisation.âÂ
 âHmmâ is all Sherlock said with a sniff and returned to the mobile.Â
 âYou know something then?â
 âYes, your information is⌠well⌠but Iâll let you suss it all out. Consider it a Christmas gift.â
 Greg shook his head but turned to see their informant approaching. Heâd met the person out of drag, but Gregâs jaw dropped a little at the vision before him. Very fishy as the drag queens say, Greg mused as the informant slinked over in a red sequin gown.Â
 She leaned against the bar, and Greg mirrored her.
 âHey darling, not sure if you rememberââ
 âYeah⌠DI, after all, got to remember faces, even in disguise,â Greg said, flashing his boyish grin. âWhat do I call you tonight?â
 âAnything you like if you keep smiling like that,â she grinned back with a wink.Â
 Greg snickered, âSo when does the show start?â
 âBaby, the only show you need is right here,â the queen said. âMs Shantala is a star just standing. You should see me dance.â
 âDo I get that pleasure tonight?â
 She bit her lip, tapping his arm lightly as she raised an eyebrow. âLater darling⌠or even later later if you like a different sort ofââ
 But another queen who rushed up whispering in Ms Shantalaâs ear and with a quick nod she hurried off, blowing him a quick kiss.
 Greg watched her walk away intently. Sherlock shot him a look and Greg shot one back chin raised. âWhat? I ainât got a date for Christmas. You never know...â
 âHmm,â Sherlock murmured as she took off his scarf and placed it in his coat pocket, and glanced and raised an eyebrow at Greg.
 A disinterested Sherlock wasnât unusual, but tonight it irritated Greg.
 âYou got a date for Christmas so you can insult me?â Greg smirked.
 Sherlockâs eyes widened and narrowed as he swallowed hard. Greg spied it and frowned.
 âOf course I do not⌠anyway irrelevant⌠can we be seated for the show ?â
 Sherlock pushed past him to avoid a group headed to the bar.Â
 He contemplated the change in his friend but stored it away for later and put his thought to the task ahead.Â
 Greg settled into his seat, and Sherlock beside him just in time for the stage lights dimmed out as the crowd cheered and clapped.
 A small curtain opened as the song began, the tinkling notes of a familiar song. âMariah Carey thenâ Greg murmured.
 The spot landed on a figure on stage dressed in a red fur trimmed hooded floor length coat with their back to the hushed audience. They turned, but their face except for cherry red lips obscured as they moved their hand to their hood. On the lyric of âyouâ, they looked right at Sherlock and pointed. The piano and music came in and they lifted the hood.
 Greg gasped and coughed.
 Molly Hooper, dancing and lip syncing, right before them. Heavy makeup with smokey eyes and false eyelashes, but no denying it's her as she shimmied across the stage. Greg hardly noticed the two drag queens, including Ms Shantala, also spotlighted as the backup singers. Or the two shirtless male dancers, one dressed as an elf and the other as a reindeer.His stare locked on Molly dancing as she opened up the jacket revealing a body suit of red velvet with fur trim and a very low cut.Â
 Gregâs elbow connected with Sherlockâs ribs but no response made him slap his arm until Sherlock slapped back.
 Sherlock gritted out, âWhy are you hitting me?â
 âSherlock. Itâs Mollyâ Greg mouthed with exaggeration and pointed.Â
 Sherlock rolled his eyes. âYes, I can see that clearly.â
 Greg glanced back at her, as she dropped the coat down to just the bodysuit which the low cut matched in the back as she twirled around and she danced to the other side of the stage for a setup with a prop with a fake fireplace one of the mail dancers wheeled on. The reindeer one wheeled a Christmas tree on the other side. Shock washed over Greg on multiple levels as she slid down the side of one dancer and back up seductively as they lifted her up under her arms.
 Greg turned to Sherlock, not sure if he should even stare at Molly dressed like that, dancing like that, and Gregâs blood boiled immediately. Sherlockâs eyes on his mobile and typing.Â
 He reached across with two hands on Sherlockâs mobile. They tugged, staring at the other silently. Greg struggled, but he whispered, âLook!â and gripped hard, yanking away the device by the time Molly danced back around to in front of them. They both glanced at her, Greg shooting her a quick smile as she looked his way. But he stared back at his friend.
 Sherlock bared his teeth at him. Â
 Greg whispered, risking leaning in. âIâm gonna kick your ass.â
 âSure, Graham,â Sherlock mocked.
 âFucking hell, I swear to Godââ
 âYou can glare all you want,â Sherlock huffed.
Greg looked back as the two dancers dropped fake snow on top of her.
 âIâm throttling you after the song.â Greg demonstrated it with his hand as he whispered it loudly.Â
 âO-kayâ Sherlock smirked and rolled his eyes.Â
 âJesus Christ...Sherlock. âÂ
 âWhat?â
 Defeat washed over Greg as he leaned in so Sherlock could hear him. âGod dammit man, sheâs singing it to you, you fucking twat.â
 Sherlock frowned deep. âIts lip-sync not singing you can clearly see by her breath sheâsââ
âThatâs it. Oh, no⌠mmm no ok Iâm kicking your ass after thisâ Greg folded his arm and then unfolded them.Â
 âWasnât there a case you were supposed to do something?" Sherlock huffed.Â
 âWell, this is more important now.â
 âIs it?â
 âYes, pay... attention.â Greg pointed at the stage, holding Sherlockâs stare.
 âIf I do... will you give me my mobile back?â
 The last line of the song approached. â Make my wish come trueâ and Greg sucked in a hard breath. âIâm gonna kill you. â
 âFine!â
 As the last â You â note started, Sherlock leapt up on stage and kissed her at the high note, holding her tight to him.Â
 Crowd whooped and hollered and Greg sat stiff still with his jaw nearly on the floor.Â
 Gregâs, and Sherlockâs mobile buzzed. Text from John about the criminal being in custody. Greg cocked his head to the side in thought, trying to piece it all together.Â
 When he looked up at the stage, he saw the reason the crowd cheered again. Molly jumped up and wrapped her legs around as Sherlock placed his hands under her bum for support. Gregâs smile crept in despite the confusion and he clapped, forgetting the mobiles in his hand and nearly dropping them before shoving them in his pocket.
 Ms Shantala cackled into the mic, âYaaasss gurl yaasss! Climb him like a tree! We love love! Merry Christmas indeed, Sherlock Holmes!â
 Greg stared at the couple now still clinging to each other but chatting with Ms Shantala as they exited the stage with a bow to much uproar and whistling from the crowd.
 He smugly strode around the crowd to find Sherlock helping Molly put the coat back on.Â
 Greg chuckled as he folded his arms âSoââ
 âWeâve been dating 6 months.â Sherlock smirked.
 Once more thrown off. âWhat?â He glanced back and forth between Sherlock and Molly.
 Molly bit her bottom lip and grinned, âItâs true. It was all part of the setup.â
 Greg huffed. âWell, I was certainly distracted but not so sure about the suspectââ
 âItâs really simple, Georgeââ
 âGreg,â Molly said, smacking Sherlock in the chest with her free hand.
 Sherlock smirked at her, and then back at Greg. âGregory, the suspect knew you were here, but he thought you would have arrested him. Us watching the show so intently, he saw your preoccupation and assumed he could leave unencumbered. He did not however bet on me, or John or Scotland Yard you placed outside.â
 Greg rubbed his forehead and down his face, smiling wearily. âYou could have just told me... any of it⌠all of it. I mean, congrats. God, Iâm chuffed but⌠helluva way to find out. Next time just tell me.â
 Sherlock glanced down at Molly, and they shared a mischievous smirk together.Â
 Molly looked back at Greg, âWell now whereâs the fun in that?â
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This is the mod fanfic gift for @ukthxbye , who wanted a certain sentence used in a Sherlolly fic.
âThatâs probably just how it is.â Molly sighed as she sipped her tea and turned to look at her brother-in-law. I will never manage to surprise Sherlock, no matter how hard I try. And trust me, I have tried. He is worse than a little boy at Christmas sniffing around under the tree.â
Mycroft smiled slightly at that. She could see that was an apt description of Sherlock. Quite possibly, that was what he had been like as a boy; Sherlock didnât have many concrete memories of his childhood, thanks to the conditioning done after his poor little friendâs death. Now, he was piecing together things with the help of his brother, but yes. It had lead to some very sleepless nights while Sherlock had doubts about a great number of things.
But never her. Never them. And she was so eternally grateful that one good thing had come out of this mess.
âWhat, exactly, are you trying to keep a secret from him?â Mycroft asked before taking a sip of his own tea. âYour upcoming blessing?â
Mollyâs eyes widened and then she glared at Mycroft. âIf you say one word, Mycroft, I swear, Iâll stick your umbrella up your arse...with the sword uncovered.â
He chuckled. âTrust me, Sherlock is oblivious. He thinks youâre keeping a different secret, that youâre leaving your post. You could wave the test under his knows and maybe then heâd realize your frequent sick days arenât a protest, itâs morning sickness.â
The mere mentions of the words âmorning sicknessâ gave her stomach a lurch and she made a face. âI am not suited for pregnancy.â
âI know of many top obstetrics and gynecology doctors. Most of them female. When Andrea had her child, she researched everyone in the country. Iâm sure sheâll share with you.â
âHow is she, by the way? Have you seen her since she left your service?â Molly asked.
Mycroft nodded. âShe asked me to be the godfather.â
âOh, thatâs wonderful!â she said. âAnd you did say yes, right?â
âNot yet.â He frowned. âWhat could I possibly offer her son that she wonât already give him?â
âA safe place in case anything happens to his mum or dad,â Molly said, reaching over to pat Mycroftâs hand. âThatâs what I gave Rosie, after everything with Mary, when John simply couldnât. And youâll care about him, I know you will, as much as youâll care about your niece or nephew.â She finished her tea and then set the cup down before getting up and kissing Mycroftâs cheek. âI suppose I better tell him so he doesnât wear a rut in the carpet thinking heâll need another pathologist. Well, full time, anyway. He will when Iâm on maternity leave.â
âIâm sure that wonât occur to him right away,â Mycroft said wryly, kissing her cheek in return. She rather did enjoy tea with her brother-in-law; it was a holdover from their time when Sherlock was away, and it was a nice bit of relaxation with excellent tea and Mycroftâs cheat days allowed from some yummy treats, though today sheâd abstained. She really didnât think herself suited for pregnancy.
She made her way home to Baker Street and when she got in, she saw Sherlock with sheet music all around him, scribbling a few notes here and there. She moved behind him staring over his shoulder. âAnything interesting?â she asked.
âI havenât been able to get this out of my head,â he said.
âWhat kind of tune is it?â she asked as she tilted her head.
âA soft piece. Something...soothing, I suppose,â He looked up at her. âEnjoy tea with the ice lord?â
âAs usual, yes,â she said, leaning over and dropping a kiss in his hair. âThough not as much as usual. The thought of sweets today made me feel ill.â
Sherlock frowned. âSo youâre really ill? Youâre not just staging a sick out?â
She nodded. âMorning sickness is a right pain in the arse, it really is.â She pointed to the music. âWould that make a good lullaby? Because we might need one in eight months or so. Give or take.â
She watched as the last few sentences sheâd said whirred about in his head and his brain struggled to compete. âMorning...sickness?â he finally got out.
She nodded again. âCommon side effect of pregnancy, yes. We might want to make sure we stay stocked in saltines, at least until the first trimester is over. After that, Iâll probably have to consult an OB/GYN if Iâm still having issues. Andrea has a list of the best in the country, apparently.â
Sherlock scrambled to his feet and gently placed his hands on either side of her waist, looking down, before moving to frame her face, a wide smile blooming on his face. âYouâre pregnant?â he asked, his tone a happy one of wonder.â
âYes,â she said with a soft chuckle. âAbout a month, I think, only because I havenât done blood work to confirm.â She was going to say more but he swooped in for a kiss, gently pulling her against him, and she kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his neck. âSo,â she continued when he was done snogging her. âYouâre happy?â
âVery.â
âGood.â She gave him another quick peck on the lips. âThen go tell people. Iâll let you share the good news with your mum and Dad and John and Greg. Iâll tell everyone else.â He gave her another quick kiss and then went for his mobile. Yes, he was beaming and quite happy but as Mycroft had said, he was quite oblivious to the fact, and she idly wondered if they ever went through this again if she could surprise him twice...
End of the year writing meme -- A, D, F, H, N, R, S, U, V, and Z. :)
also:  ukthxbye said: R and U for the end of the year writing meme:) and simplyshelbs16xoxo said: A, M, P for the writing thingy
Thank you again, ladies & fellow authors, for the asks; there are few things that rival my love of writing, but having the chance to discuss my writing comes pretty close! ;-)
As the Christmas crunch has hit me full tilt this weekend, Iâm going to answer this over several posts (also, because Iâm dreadfully long-winded, and I donât want to put any readers to sleep!). So here goes part oneâŚ
A. If you could rec a piece of music to accompany one of you fics, what would you pick? Why?
Iâve always been greatly inspired by musicâitâs always had the power to move me down to my soulâŚso for certain characters that I hold dear, I have music that reflects them and gets right to the core of some pivotal moment they are experiencing. Most recently it was ABBAâs Andante, Andante as performed by Lily James in Mamma Mia II this past summer
ârefective of my OFC, Teyla, over the last few published chapters of Of Magic, Miracles, and Moonlight.
As I sat in the movie theater, from the very first line of the song, and the first strains of itâs lovely melody, I felt it was exactly Teylaâs songâfor I was in the midst of writing the latest chapter, in which her slow-burn romance with Stephen Strange is finally (and beautifully, if I donât say so myself) consummated.
D. Any drawings or pictures that had a big influence on your writing?
Probably half of my works have been inspired by either pictures (in character or not) or drawings of My Muse (and Beautiful Obsession)! And there remain a good share of ideas that I havenât yet had the time to flesh out and bring to life. Most notably there was a photo of Benedict Cumberbatch from the publicity run up to Star Trek: Into Darkness; posed with a classic car on an arid California roadside, dressed in a spotless white tee & black leather pants, with his Khan-darkened hair *pauses to fan self*âhe became John Harrison on the run from Admiral Marcusâs henchmen, pre the events of the movie, in A Khan By Any Other Name.
I also started a fic (In the Eye of the Beholder) about the youth of Richard Plantagenet based on a still from The Hollow Crown series. Benedictâs Richard looking darkly handsome, dangerous, sultry, in blue velvetâ-a dark, magnificent prince with a cankerous heart; a villain so skillfully imbued with enough of a painful backstory (oh how his mother so cruelly rejected him!) by the Actor, that this author just had to plumb the depths of his childhood & teen years to discover why he turned out so duplicitious and power hungry (spoiler: there was a teen love affair that also broke his heart, thanks to his motherâs interference).
A Time and Place for Misbehavior was sparked by photos & footage of Benedictâs tipsy acceptance speech at the 2014 British GQ Men of the Year awards dinner, while Whiskey Kisses was inspired by his performance of âSonnet 155Ⲡin May 2010. And pictures of the dashing Major Jamie Stewart from War Horse were the seeds for The Secret of Salvation. I could go on, but Iâm sure you get the pictureâBC truly is the Muse for most of my works!
F. What stories are you planning for the future? Â
So many, many, many ideas, and too, too, too little time! Iâve got a good dozen draft documents with initial paragraphs & notes just waiting to be dusted off and brought to life-âbut Iâve also got a bunch of long-running WIPs that need attention first. A couple of my favorite ideas are Sherlock related; a fic that will explore how Sherlock came to play the violin (an idea conceived well before S4 and the reveal of Eurus), which will also feature teenaged Mycroft and a youthful sibling rivalry (mostly on Mâs part); and a character study of what is going on in all the minds of Sherlockâs family & friends while they wait to see if he survives his gunshot wound in His Last Vow, which will prominently feature Mycroft & Molly.
H. How do you write? Paper, pen, computer? Music, no music?
Currently, I work either on my tablet or small laptop, but I also keep a notebook & pen on my nightstand for those times I wake up with a plot detail or perfect bit of dialogue. Iâm so used to writing with the television playing as white noise in the background, I know it would be hard to adapt to silenceâand as my work area doesnât have easy access to play music (and I donât have a smart phone or an I-pod) I donât know if music would actually serve my best interestsâŚalthough Iâve will play songs repeatedly on my headphones should they fit the piece Iâm working on, and I have access to public wifi.Â
I guess that will do it for today; hope I didnât put anyone to sleep! And thank you most kindly if you read this entire post throughâyou are a trooper (or at least a gluttoin for punishment, but that is not the deadliest sin, nâest-ce pas?)
If anyone is interested, all the stories Iâve listed can be found on AO3, where my pen name is BeautifullyObsessed.
ukthxbye replied to your post: âSomeone save me from the hell that is Doctor Who series 11 discourse.â:
It hasnât even aired yet...sigh. Nobody hates Doctor Who more than Doctor Who fans.
hipsterbrigadier replied to your post: âSomeone save me from the hell that is Doctor Who series 11 discourse.â:
a few years ago I decided to mostly leave the doctor who fandom, I've loved Capaldi's era and I am really looking forward to Jodie but I just don't care about talking about it anymore I just want to enjoy it xD
I freely admit, I love a bit of drama and discussion. But usually my dash is a pretty good place to just feel happy about the show... with a new era of Doctor Who, it seems nowhere is going to be âsafeâ. The whole debates about (the lack of) returning characters or romantic storylines in series 11 just makes me want to tear my hair out. Why do we do this to ourselves.
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Itâs amazing how some people can hold a grudge for so long when they CANâT EVEN PROVE WHY TJLCERS ARE TOXIC. For the last several years, you canât supply a shred of evidence why Johnlockers are worse than you and your friends, except -- âEw!! Theyâre so mean because they donât like Molly!!! And they just want to see John and Sherlock buttfuck!! Ew, John is gross and abusive, just like Jlockers!!! I tried being nice to me once but they just laughed and said, âbyeâ and honestly I was threatened, THEYâRE SO RUDE!! SHERLOLLIANS ARE LOVE BUT I HATE JLOCKERS!!!â
You canât come up with anything to say about us thatâs damning, all you can do is talk trash; just because we ship Sherlock with someone else doesnât make us bullies.
We get it, we know youâre talking about us. Even Mizjoely didnât join in your little dig there and you felt more inclined to talk dirt when you probably werenât even around when âshit started flyingâ in the first place. Why canât you be like your little buddies and get the fuck over whatever WE apparently did to your BNFs for the âpast several years?â
You donât have to mention US in every conversation you have with your Sherlolly friends. Are you that o b s e s s e d with us?
Remember thegameisnow app? Yeah, your ship doesnât have any more power than the Titanic did. In fact, you definitely sank faster. Heh.
Um. I hate to say this, but if I absolutely had to pick ( Iâm sorry, I love you all, youâre so lovely) and I canât choose the entire Ward storyline in Agents of SHIELD, (If I can, thatâs my answer) then I hate to say it but other than Groot (because Groot is always exempt) the plot of Guardians of the Galaxy 2 was probably my least favorite.
And you should be ;) Â my football bae Hazard got two today!
to be honest, lukaku and hazard can just straight up grab the ball and run at our goal, tossing the ball to each other like a game of quidditch and Iâd probably thank them for it. Iâd be blessed to be destroyed by such a wonderful team