Just Another Collection of Sherlock Stories (Sherlock Holmes in All its Forms)

[Tissue Bosch]

I happen to have quite a few Sherlock fics stockpiled, and they're too long to be a drabble thread, so I thought I'd post them here. Let me know if you have any request for prompts for Movieverse, BBC, or Doylean canonic Sherlock and co. I especially have a penchant for writing stories for side characters, but most of these will be for Sherlock and John.

[Tissue Bosch]

Starting off with a Lestrade fic from a series of one-word prompts I did. And the world needs more characterization of Donovan, so she's here too. I guess you can ship them here if you like? But it's written as platonic. Oh! And there's some written-out stuffy talk, so maybe skip this one if that's not your thing.

Desperation

Everyone else on the floor was long gone. The fluorescent lights to the floor had been off for hours, leaving the office to be dimly lit with only the light of a computer screen and a flashlight balanced precariously on top of a file cabinet, and the only noise other than the faint hum of the DI’s overworked computer was the sound of a janitor fumbling with a cart at the far end of the hallway. 

“Greg.” The voice was warm, a soft and caring caramel ribbon. Nonetheless, the sudden noise startled the detective, and his hand reflexively sprang to his holster.

“Relax! It’s just me.” Donovan flicked the light switch, turning on the emergency lights. The mess of a room was bathed in an uneven soft red glow. Lestrade exhaled shakily and let his hand fall to his side before crossing his arms on the desk and cradling his achy head.

“Wow…  you’re really out of it, huh?” Her brow creased as she looked over the crumpled detective. He hadn’t been home in a few days. Since this case started, she hadn’t actually seen him eat anything other than the bottom-of-the-bag granola bar she’d slipped him when he’d almost passed out at the eighth scene they investigated, and that had been two days ago. His nose was noticeably red, even in the tinted fluorescence of the emergency lights. His untucked and unironed shirt had creatively aligned buttons and more than a few gaps. His hair was uncombed, and his tie was wrapped limply around his shoulders, flopping further to one side when Greg sneezed a heavy “HuRUHsha!” openly onto his desk. He was too tired to bother hiding the symptoms anymore. His dedication to this case was bordering on Holmesian.

“I’mb… I’mb fide.” Donovan smiled slightly at the weak protest. She commended him on trying to stay strong, even though he’d have to break down and do something about it eventually.

“I can tell.” She moved towards the desk, laying a hand gently on the deflated man’s shoulder, and pressed the other to his cheek, then his forehead. Her sly smile faded into a frown.

“You really should get out of here, you know. Take a shower, change your clothes, get some rest…” She was cut off by a second barely covered “Hu…RuSHuh!”

“… Maybe pick something up for that cold, too, before it lands you in bed for a week.” She shifted her bag on her shoulder and brought something out. A file folder. “The Freak dropped this by earlier. It’s about those serial kidnappings you’re working on. Said it might clarify some things.” Greg raised his tired head, bleary eyes widening at the prospect of new evidence. Donovan returned the file to the tote. “I thought we might be able to work on it together. In the morning. But…  I have a few conditions.” Greg sniffed heavily and coughed into his elbow.

“Get on width id. What do you deed from be? You can habe id.” He ran his fingers through his unkempt hair and exhaled slowly, cheeks puffing with air as he reviewed his options. “The depardmend does’d habe the funds for a raise, but we mbight be able to swing a pretty hefty bonus…” Donovan cut him off and laughed quietly. He really would do anything to help these kids.

“Nothing like that, Greg. Just, do me a favour. Go home? Get some sleep? First, though, I’m taking you out for something to eat. Real food. None of this college dorm crap.” She gestured to the instant noodle packets and microwave curry bowls that littered the office, artefacts from when he bothered to eat when he was working through the night looking for the missing kids.

Greg sighed, only for it to devolve into a harsh coughing fit punctuated by a single, exhausted “Hurrushah..”. As soon as he opened his eyes, he found a concerned Donovan holding out a few cough drops and a packet of Nurofen. 

“Start with that until I can get some food into you.” Greg took the packet hesitantly, then downed the capsules with the stale cup of water that had been on his desk for an indeterminate amount of time, wincing as the pills brushed against his raw throat.

“Fide.” He mumbled, pawing a honey lemon cough drop into his mouth and accepting the heavy winter coat Donovan removed from her own shoulders and draped over his. “Bud I ged to pick the restaurand.”

Donovan smiled subtly. She was worried she wouldn’t be able to get him out of the building, much less into a restaurant. 

“There we go. Might want to fix this, though.” She gestured widely in the general direction of Lestrade. He looked down at the state of his being, and his fevered flush deepened. He quickly rebuttoned his shirt, fingers stumbling as he realigned the collar and threaded the tie. He tried for a minute to tie it, clumsily pulling it in and out of knots. On the rare occasion that he wore a tie, it was always in a simple oriental knot, but he couldn’t manage even that.

Donovan looked on in pity, and eventually turned Lestrade towards her. 

“Here, let me.” She took the tie and tied a four-in-hand. The kind that the boys at her secondary school had used. She had to admit, she had significantly more experience pulling them off than putting them on. Nevertheless, she managed. She took Lestrade by the shoulders and stepped back to admire her handiwork.

“Donoban…” Greg started to speak, but he didn’t have time to finish. Instead, he ripped the detective’s hands off his shoulders and turned squarely to the right, bending forward with a forceful and messy “Huruh… HurasCHUh..HuraSCH… HehreCH…” he sniffled unproductively before accepting a tissue that Donovan had produced from her endless bag of remedies and blowing thickly. “Sorry. I don’d wand to give you whaddever this is.” He gestured to his puffy face. His voice was still thick, but he did sound a bit less congested.

“Come on. How about we find you some soup? I’m sure something you’ll like is still open this late.” Donovan placed a guiding hand on Lestrade’s back, coaxing him slowly towards the door.

“Donoban?” She looked up from his shuffling feet as he turned around to lock his watery brown eyes with her darker ones. “Thangk you.”

[AngelEyes]

There can never be enough Shelock! This is lovely.

[NotWho]

3 hours ago, AngelEyes said:

There can never be enough Shelock! This is lovely.

I agree!

I love this and cannot wait to see more.

[groundcontrol]

Oooh! I’d love to see some Doyle Sherlock with a cold