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@oldglorydog
There’s a small smile of amusement on his lips, and he tilts his head slightly in thought.
“You need somebody to care for you, and you’ve nobody at home. It would be best to stay here. But if you believe to know more than I, and doctors, do then I can get you released.”
“sure i’ve got people at home. who said anythin’ about me not having people at home? i’ve got -...friendly neighbors. and i don’t need looking after, mycroft holmes.”
Rupert Graves is a real treasure, a beautiful and delightful man child HE’S SO CUTE SOMEONE PROTECT HIM
SHERLOCKED | Rupert Graves London | 26.04.15 by xxxluxuryhell
He mimics the movement much more gracefully than Greg as he slides in beside him. “It’s really quite fine. We all lose our tempers at times.”
‘ WELL...AS YOU
can probably imagine, my particular brand of career and reputation doesn’t look too thrilling if i lose my temper the way i did. it’s just -- well. i think i hit my breaking point. that’s all. ‘
❝ OH, don’t worry about THAT, vDetective. . I’m very PATIENT. I can WAIT. ❞
WOULD IT STILL BE CONSIDERED
police brutality if he smacked the bloke around a bit for a just reason? probably, but that doesn’t stop the detective inspector from fantasizing about it. just a little. ‘i’m going to put you way for a long time, crane. that’s a bloody promise.’
The more he spoke, the clearer the picture became of the sort of poor, unfortunate soul she was dealing with. Finding the thread had been easy enough and so she had seized it like a magpie after silver, pulling and pulling until she had him unraveled at her feet. It was a fine art, seduction. Come on too strong and the moment could be burned away within seconds, too slow and it could be lost. It was a delicate tightrope, one she so loved to tread and, in that moment of sweet surrender she knew how completely she had him, held tight within manicured hands. “Mistress will do quite nicely. What a good boy you are.” Another kiss is delivered, this time pressed against the corner of his mouth. Just a taste. Enough to seep into his bloodstream like a fever, letting need and addiction take hold. Through the years she has experienced so many clients, it became something of a game to try and puzzle out what kind they would be. With Gregory, in such desperate need of a strong hand followed by an abundance of affection, she knew she had one desperate to please. This would bode very well for their future. If she played her cards just right she could wind up with a regular settled in the heart of Scotland Yard. Was there any greater prize to be won than such an ally? Researching him, as she did all potential clients, had only added to her anticipation. This was, after all, the ace she had been looking for. Not that he was her first officer (her back catalogue was somewhat extensive) but never had an official knelt in her chambers that was in such impeccable standing.
Gregory Lestrade was the old fashioned hero, a knight in tarnished armor desperate to make the world a better place. The thought of deviating him, twisting such noble intentions until they mirrored her own sent a thrill through Irene. He held such promise. As he spoke, recounting the trials and tribulations of such a stressful career, she rested her hands upon his shoulders, fingers stroking along his skin. Affection was always how it began. Once trust had been established, the act of punishment and forgiveness became infinitely more enjoyable. Besides, she genuinely liked having something of a rapport with her clients. Although, if she harbored a distaste it did make the discipline a great deal more enjoyable. Waiting until he was finished, she failed to reprimand him for his poor language. There was no need, she had heard much worse things, after all. Then, when she was quite certain he had finished, she spoke. “I see. Well my darling, I can only express a regret that you have to endure such stress. Here, with me, you can forget about all of that. Now, how about we start with the riding crop, hmm?”
IT WAS PETRIFYING THE
sort of hold that irene adler already carried over him. here was a man that refused to let go, who refused to let him enjoy even the most simple aspects of life. he buried himself in his work, and refused to look up. but taking in her words, feeling her hands on him... greg is suddenly realizing just how much he’s CRAVED this. and perhaps, not even crave would be the correct word. it’s how much he’s NEEDED it. how irene had known which string to pull was lost on him, but he was INTOXICATED by the pull of her voice; it was absolutely mesmerizing. when he’s finished speaking, he couldn’t even begin to comprehend himself why he had told her that much. for christsake’s, he had friends that he hadn’t told that much to, and many of his friends he had known for over a decade. but here was irene adler. and in less than twenty minutes, she already knew a deep part of gregory that greg himself chose to try and ignore most days. it was silly to think so, but could the woman be his saviour? or would she simply become his downfall?
“start with the ridi-... wh--okay.” give her the control. let her be the one to make the decisions for him for a change.
“what do i--...how should --.. what do i do?” but man of action, through and through.
"I envy your free spirit, and I’m attracted to it, but not all of us have that luxury."
“—— Hardly a luxury, Detective Inspector."
Lazy drawl paired with a casual shrug of suit-clad shoulders — James Bond doesn’t always take pride in this so called ‘free spirit.’ It leaves him restless in times of peace, and lusting for adventures that may always be his last. He despises his job, on one hand, and on the other he knows, always has, there’s something alien about him; it’s difficult enough to hide on missions, and even more so when he’s stationed back in London.
"I envy those with desk jobs, on occasion.” He states mildly, not as an insult ( or, nothing sincere ) — Lestrade’s own job comes with perils, he’s sure.
"Though I don’t reckon I could survive it. You seem to be doing well,” he says. At least, what little he’s heard via office gossip.
“ ---- mmm.” Gregory catches the comment, but does little more to change Bond’s mind. Then again, James’s mind was already set, and there was no use in Gregory wasting his energy to try and change the agent’s mind over something petty. They had, as it were, bigger fish to fry.
“I’m sure you’d thrive at a desk job for a while. Bring a flask and start a tradition of day-drinking starting first thing.” A twitch of his lips and a slight grin given to the other man to show that he was only joking. He didn’t want to argue with James, but that doesn’t mean he can’t quip back. “I’m as well as the situation will allow me to be. M contacted me yesterday morning at the crack of dawn to brief me, though I reckon with how things tend to go, best we have a backup plan seeing as I’m sure they’ll be kinks in our near future.”
Picking up the images he moved to Lestrade’s desk practically shoving the photos in the man’s face.
“Do you see the amount of flaws?”
He points to the corner of the image and it would seem something has been only part view. “I’ve looked through them and I haven’t seen anything showing this part of the room. I don’t understand why he would do that. I bet even Anderson would do a much better job.”
He scowls to himself and tries to work out the case. Naturally it all comes with time and he’s selectively hearing what Lestrade is talking about.
“Calling card? Have you called?”
GREGORY LETS SHERLOCK
rage about the incompetence of his team. after all, it happened at least once a day. add in the fact that he’s much too tired to put up a fight, the detective inspector pretty much zones out until he realizes that sherlock is intently looking at him, a question in his eyes.
“uh- well... well, no. i haven’t tried calling. i just assumed that it would be another dead end like half of these things tend to be. we can’t all have an adversary as well-known as the joker is to batman.”
"You're mine."
Send me “You’re mine.” to see how my muse reacts to your muse telling them just that.
i —…what? since —…you —…since…when have you been interested in me?
❝——Nonsense. You’re too hot for an old man.❞
“have you seen the majority of what old men look like? i fit that category, victor.”
Snake remains in the broken and shattered car for a moment.
Cuts and blood covering the showing skin.
And he waits for when the police would make their move. Wanting nothing more than to do exactly what they tell him so as to appear just like any other criminal.
So Snake opens his door and climbs out, arms high in the air and where this detective can seem them. This is where he remains, dark gaze scanning all that surrounds him.
it takes all of Snake’s strength to not crack a smile
After all, causing such chaos is fun and all, but it isn’t him. Though it’s an effective way to get the attention of the law.
JUST ONCE,
gregory would have appreciated a boring, drab, day. just once, he wished he could have let himself use up all those vacation days that he’s got saved. but that day... would not be today, as it had not been the DAY for over three decades now. he’s a patient man, but not in this case. the detective inspector has scalding hot liquid all over the front of his white shirt, and down the front of his pants. he’s not a happy man.
“turn around. hands on the --... hands on the tree. don’t try anything; you’ve already caused quite the SCENE.”
Valentine’s kiss (2015).
SHERLOCK.:
”Well, John has informed me on several occasions that people enjoy being reminded that they are… appreciated. So I’ve been trying to be more verbal about it, I suppose.”
--...you’re actually willingly taking advice?
YOUNG SOLDIER.:
The notion of him looking young is one he definitely wasn’t prepared to, and Phoebus can’t help a chuckle. ❛I’m not that young — I dare to claim I’ve already seen my best days.❜ His eyes turn to the ground for a moment as he ponders on a serious answer to the elder’s question, and more importantly, the familiar- sounding tale of the other’s career path.
❛That sounds a lot how I ended up in military. I’ve been aiming at targets ever since I got my first slingshot, so it’s a bit weird — leaving that life behind. I do have an attempt of a career in law enforcement behind me, trying that again seems like the natural course of action.❜ There’s a small implication that ‘natural course’ isn’t the same as ’preferred course’, but Phoebus doesn’t continue on the topic, simply shrugs and leans back in his seat.
“oh, you?” gregory returns, a faint smile on his lips. “i think you’ve a long way left. ‘course, i doubt it’ll be an easy path -- ours aren’t ever quite what one would call easy, ey? still... i think you have more than a couple of your ‘best days’ left.” he takes a long draw from his pint before setting it back down, the smile appearing a bit more apparent now as younger explains his trajectory.
“ ‘suppose natural is one way to put it. s’more like you’re...stuck, and logically that’s the ‘best’ decision to make. but i say screw it. hell, open up a bar instead.”
Khan couldn’t deny that the honest flattery in those words were enough to still him for a moment. He’d never anticipated that he’d meet anyone that would appreciate his ethics or his work, and to have found someone who knew everything and yet still understood both was still amazing to him. “What is a man to do with flattery like that? And you wonder why I strive to live up to your thoughts of me.”
“I’m not quite sure about any other man, but my man is to simply accept the fact that he is absolutely perfect for me, and shouldn’t have to put on any bravado, and to simply... be him.” another warm smile, and greg reaches up, placing a calloused hand on the side of khan’s cheek. “oh, i don’t think it was because of me you changed, darling. you can’t simply just give me that much credit. i believe, and will always continue to believe, that you are who you will have always been. i’m just lucky you see the quieter, private parts of you.”
HOLMES.
❝ i suppose it is somewhat justified. ❞
he hummed.
❝ —— about those busts, they’re not unrelated to this murder at all. ❞
really, sherlock. am i to beg you to inform me of every tidbit you’ve got?
>>oldglorydog
KORI
A drink at work was rare, but there was a reason. There had been a reason to drink from this bottle until it was completely empty - and god, she couldn’t even remember where she’d found the glass. She had lost a client. It was a big venture - there were three agents on the case, but they had lost a man, and they had lost him brutally. The kicker was that everyone had been drinking, but that everyone had left, and they had left a bottle for her, specifically…. though none of them knew that she was a recovering alcoholic, and none of them knew how highly she valued this client or how sad it would really make her. Instead of draining the bottle in the sink or taking it home, she took it into her office and had it all while hovering over her work, though none of it got done. The motion of him taking her hand was what made her look up, finally, and she looked pitiful, cheeks stained with tears and eyelashes still wet, though her expression still had that sort of seriousness that she’d always stubbornly carry. Her hand squeezed his, and she nodded. She needed the contact. Perhaps he understood that. She stood, wavering, from her chair.
he’s patient, and very much aware of how delicate this situation was. in fact, in the back of his mind, gregory knows there’s a type of finesse attached that he wasn’t exactly the best at. but perhaps, perhaps the lesson here, was to simply ... simply be human. do not treat her as a case. do not allow previous biases to interject. allow the vulnerability to seep through, no matter how uncomfortable, and for her sake... stay strong. she finally looks up at him, and his eyes lock onto her gaze. he’s glad to see that she hadn’t pushed him away, hadn’t screamed, hadn’t thrown anything. which, from his own deductive powers, (though, nowhere near the level of sherlock’s) could deduce that it was now something work related, but deeply personal, too. ah. a danger that he knew all too well. but when she stands, so does he, and at the slightest sign of wavering on her part, a warm hand is wrapped gently but firmly around her shoulders as he begins to walk with steady steps, letting kori lean on him if necessary.
"Well I think you just broke my hand.."
“—Then it is a good thing we are in a hospital.”
just -- just try and breathe.
