#jostrade

[mickivich]

[detectiveinspectorgreglestrade]

Anystrade = Anyone/Lestrade

Let's face it, he ships well with everyone.

[sam-berto]

Omegle : So Many Feels.

Question to discuss:

The first rule of the Diogenes Club is never talk in the Diogenes Club.

You: Yeah well

You: I'm looking for Mycroft Holmes?

Stranger: Not my division. -GL

You: Has anyone seem him?

You: Anyone-- Greg?

Stranger: Aren't you not supposed to talk while you're in the Diogenes Club? -GL

Stranger: And no, I haven't seen him today. -GL

You: Right, yeah. Well-- it's a bit late now, isn't it? I don't think switching to my phone will do anything but... JW

Stranger: Oh great, now we're BOTH getting thrown out. Thanks. -GL

You: You're welcome! We should go-- he's not here.

Stranger: He doesn't live in the Diogenes, you know.

You: Well I went to the place he /does/ live in and he wasn't there. Anyway! You were checking for him too, weren't you? Can't see... any other reason you'd be here...

Stranger: Anyway, why are YOU looking for Mycroft Holmes, of all people?

Stranger: I was on professional business.

You: Right, sure. Professional business.

You: And... I wanted to find him because earlier-- earlier. Sherlock contacted me.

Stranger: Right, and you and Sherlock are most definitely not a couple. I mean, really. It's obvious to everyone.

Stranger: Wait. What?

Stranger: He contacted you?

You: Shut up. But yeah, he did. Three years and he finally got off his ass and texted me.

Stranger: He... was dead.

You: I know... Is it wrong to have my hopes up, Greg? What if it's just a prank... what if-- he is dead?

Stranger: As far as I know, he is.

You: You're right, he probably is...

Stranger: If he contacted you, either he's alive, or someone's impersonating him, or someone's playing a really sick joke on you.

Stranger: Any of the above is kind of... ridiculous, actually.

You: Is he really so cruel as to not contact me for three years? He never was good at sentiment.

Stranger: You knew him better than I did.

Stranger: Though I admit he did seem like a "need to know" type guy.

Stranger: And I almost never needed to know, unfortunately.

You: Hah, yeah, that's true. But you know he cares about you, right?

Stranger: *snort* Yeah, right. Just like he does everyone.

Stranger: Which is that he doesn't.

You: Oh, come on Greg, he cares-- cared... Trust me.

Stranger: I think you're probably the only exception to that rule.

Stranger: He didn't even know my name.

Stranger: But still, even Sherlock needs exceptions.

You: -Toys with his phone- You think he cares enough to have come back form the dead?

You: And he didn't need to know your name. He said it was irrelevant. Everyone calls you Lestrade, after all.

Stranger: Well, yes.

Stranger: As for his coming back from the dead.

Stranger: Only Jesus has done that so far in the history of history. And even that's debatable.

Stranger: But I wouldn't put it past Sherlock Holmes.

You: Great, yeah. You're right. Just a stupid prank, huh..?

Stranger: That's most likely it.

Stranger: But I can trace the text if you're still wondering...?

Stranger: I'll have to take your phone into the station.

You: Right. Right-- uh. Yeah. Maybe. Here. -hands him his phone-

Stranger: -takes it-

Stranger: I'll get right on it.

Stranger: Do you... need a lift?

You: That would be nice. Just... back to Baker Street. Maybe to the pub nearest to it, actually. God knows I need a drink.

Stranger: Right. I'll tell the cabbie to drop you off before he gets to Scotland Yard.

Stranger: You know... you can talk about it, if you want.

Stranger: I mean, you were his best friend, after all.

You: I spent months talking about it with a therapist after he died. Why would I... need to talk about it now? I-- acecpted that he was dead.

You: Is. Is dead.

Stranger: ... Yeah, I can see that's working for you.

You: ...You got a lot of work to do today?

Stranger: Not anything I can't shove off on Donovan.

Stranger: Well, except for this phone trace.

You: Maybe... we could go to the yard together and then head to the pub?

Stranger: Sure. One sec, let me tell the cabbie.

You: Right. -sighs-

Stranger: Right. So. Scotland Yard first then.

Stranger: We're almost there anyway.

You: If you're up for it, that is. The trace.

Stranger: Sure. I mean, I basically fed him to the wolves, so it's not like I'm innocent in all this.

Stranger: It's the least I can do.

You: You were doing your job, Greg.

Stranger: Yeah, that's what I tell myself to help me sleep at night.

Stranger: Ah, here we are. I'll just pop in and be right back. Hold the cab, will you?

You: I'll wait here, yeah?

Stranger: Yeah. Back in a second.

You: Okay... -settles back into the seat of the cab-

You: And Greg?

Stranger: Yeah, John?

You: Thanks. A lot.

Stranger: It's what friends do.

You: He would have appreciated it to. Because I'm going to punch whoever sent that text in the face.

Stranger: -laughs- Even if it IS him, I'm sure.

Stranger: All right, let me just run up to the lab.

You: Especially if it is him.

You: Okay.

Stranger: Jesus. Sorry. Had to sign some paperwork and nonsense.

Stranger: So where's this pub?

You: That's okay. Uh, it's just down the road. 'Bout two minutes away. How long until you find out..?

Stranger: Couple of days, probably, depending on how backed up the lab is. I told them to put a rush on it, but everyone tells them that, so...

You: Right, yeah, I understand... So, how's everything been going?

Stranger: Aren't I suppose to ask YOU that?

Stranger: The wife and I are... taking another break, it seems.

You: Everyone knows how I'm going. Just... going.

You: So you're dating Mycroft again?

Stranger: Jesus you don't beat around the bush, do you?

Stranger: Tell me: you and Sherlock ever date?

You: No point. Guess I learnt that off him.

You: And... uh. No... no, we didn't... We're here.

Stranger: Right then. After you.

Stranger: Imagine you and Sherlock "not dating" and then just think about Mycroft.

Stranger: You think Mycroft Holmes dates people?

You: -Pays for the cab, because Lestrade is doing him a favor and gets out, heading toward the pub- Right, so you're his... Muse? Is that elegant enough for Mycroft?

You: Besides, Sherlock and I didn't date. Really.

Stranger: I know. Because you're straight and all that. We saw all the women. You don't have to prove it to anyone. It's fine.

Stranger: It's all fine.

You: Greg. Stop it.

Stranger: I'm just saying.

You: -Sits down at the bar, resting an elbow on it- I loved him, though...

Stranger: Took you long enough to admit it.

Stranger: Let me get you a beer.

You: And now it seems so obvious, doesn't?

You: Thanks.

Stranger: -waves over bartender- Two, please will you? The dark. Thanks.

Stranger: Yeah, well, it was obvious to the rest of us the whole time.

Stranger: Everyone else calls him "freak" and you're moving in with the man.

You: Really..? -laughs dryly-

You: He just... He said heroes didn't exist, that he wasn't one. But he would have jumped if he didn't have a reason too. He's too vain for that.

Stranger: So there was a reason, then.

Stranger: We just don't know what it was.

You: Had to have been. Maybe... Moriarty was threatening him? I've been over it thousands of times in my head and it just doesn't make sense.

Stranger: I don't know either.

Stranger: Moriarty never existed officially, it looks like.

Stranger: That guy was Richard Brook.

You: No, no way. -Takes a large sip of beer- No. Moriarty /was/ real.

Stranger: Look, I believe you. But I have to have evidence. I mean, I'm a police detective.

You: He strapped a vest covered in explosives to me, Greg! If you think... Sherlock cared for me at all, then you know he wouldn't do that.

Stranger: Yeah, good point.

Stranger: But that stuff isn't in the official records.

Stranger: Sherlock was a great man. And I think you were helping to make him a good one.

You: Does it /matter/? You don't have to believe what's official-- I thought you believed in /him/.

You: He was a good one.

You: He was... the /best/.

Stranger: I... yeah. He was.

Stranger: It's just... it's difficult to argue against all the contradicting evidence.

Stranger: I can believe in whatever I want privately.

Stranger: Publicly, I'm still an officer of the Crown.

You: We're talking about the man who broke into the Tower of London, Pentonville Prison and the Bank of London! He can make up a stupid alias.

You: I believe in him. Even if... He stood in front of me, told me he was a fraud and then shot me...

You: I'd die believing he was the greatest man I've ever met.

Stranger: You're faith is enviable.

Stranger: Truly, John.

Stranger: I wish I knew him like you did.

You: I wish you did too... -sighs against the rim of his glass and downs the whole thing-

Stranger: You remember different things about him than I do, though.

Stranger: I remember his insulting every single one of my officers.

Stranger: That doesn't exactly win friends, you know.

You: And you remember him solving more crimes than even I do!

Stranger: Yes, no thanks to his attitude.

You: You seriously think that Sherlock Holmes was, not only a fraud, but a murderer.

You: Because there were a hell of a lot of dead bodies put to rest because of him.

Stranger: No, jesus.

Stranger: No, John. I don't think he was a murderer.

You: But you still doubt him.

Stranger: Or a fraud, despite the evidence.

Stranger: Doubting is what detectives do, more or less.

You: There is not evidence.

You: No. No. Finding out the /truth/ is what detectives do.

Stranger: And to do that, we have to look past what's at face value. And to do THAT we have to doubt.

Stranger: I don't think Sherlock Holmes was a fraud, John.

Stranger: And I'm not just saying that.

You: -Rubs his forehead, closing his eyes and nodding- Right.

Stranger: But it doesn't really matter what I think, does it? I'm just one man.

Stranger: He was basically crucified on the cross of public opinion.

You: And there were only three-- four-- important people to Sherlock Holmes.

You: He wouldn't care whether the whole world thought he was a fraud but...

You: You, me, Mrs Hudson, Mycroft...

You: We're meant to-- be there for him, aren't we?

You: Even Molly believes in him. And Sarah. Henry, too.

Stranger: You either need more beer, or less.

You: More. Definitely more.

Stranger: Sherlock made very clear that he could take care of himself.

Stranger: Here's another. On me.

You: -Snorts- Like hell Sherlock could take care of himself.

Stranger: Well, you and /I/ know that, but like I said...

You: You're not working, Lestrade.

Stranger: -rubs face with palm-

Stranger: Yeah, I'm not.

You: Finish your beer. -Sips at his, a little more measured-

Stranger: Fine, fine. -takes a drink-

You: He never tried particularly hard to make friends but, in the end, I don't think he knew how many he had...

Stranger: Well, /that's/ the truth if I've ever heard it.

Stranger: But at the same time, everyone turned on 'im.

You: Not everyone.

Stranger: Including me, so a good lot of friends /we/ turned out to be.

You: You.

Stranger: Well, I did arrest him, didn't I?

Stranger: Or tried to, before he took you hostage.

You: That was your job. But apart from that... I think everyone stayed with him, believed in him-- believes in him.

Stranger: You're talking like he's alive again.

You: No, because... Believing in someone doesn't just stop after they die. Does it? Otherwise we would have stopped believing in Einstein or... Anyone else dead!

Stranger: Believing Einstein existed or in his body of work isn't the same thing as...

Stranger: What am I even doing, trying to reason with you?

You: Sherlock lived and breathed his work. I think it's the same thing for him.

Stranger: In a strange, existentialist way, I think you may have a point.

Stranger: But that doesn't mean he's not dead.

Stranger: You've been to his damn grave.

You: No. He's dead. -finishes his second beer- More than that, I saw him body fall. Took his pulse.

Stranger: Yeah. Yeah.

Stranger: Damn.

You: -Rests his face in his hands- I should move. I should just... get out.

Stranger: That... could be for the best.

You: Heh. He'd kill me though, you know? If... if he was still alive. He would say 'John, I expected you to keep it. Sentiment. That's what ordinary people have to hold on to'.

Stranger: -laughs-

Stranger: I can hear him saying that, actually.

Stranger: How is your flat, by the way?

You: Yeah...

You: Messy as always. Mrs Hudson made me give his clothes away-- some of his clothes, anyway.

You: I have all his science-y stuff packed up, too.

Stranger: You haven't changed a damn thing you haven't been made to, have you?

You: Nope. -laughs- Eighteen months. I knew him eighteen months and it's taken me /this/ long to even... consider moving out of Baker Street.

Stranger: How're you covering the rent?

You: Well, got a full time job now, don't I? Work as a doctor pays well...

Stranger: Any... lady friends?

You: Been on a few dates...

Stranger: And they've all ended because...?

You: Same reason they ended when he was alive, I guess.

Stranger: Because you're preoccupied with Sherlock Holmes.

Stranger: The man's torturing you even in his death. That's... not right.

You: It's not torture. -frowns, drinking again-

Stranger: Oh, you know what a prick he was.

Stranger: -takes a sip-

Stranger: You know, not to speak ill of the dead or anything.

You: He was an annoying git, but he didn't /torture/ me.

Stranger: All right, all right. Didn't torture John Watson.

You: Thank you.

Stranger: -sighs-

Stranger: Look, John. I'm just worried about you.

Stranger: You're just... going through the motions.

You: Three years. Something's wrong with me.

Stranger: You're depressed. Obviously.

Stranger: I'd suggest therapy, except you did that already.

You: -Arches both his eyebrows- I know. Ella kept telling me to prescribe myself some pills, but that's not how I'm meant to deal with this.

Stranger: And how /are/ you meant to?

You: More beer. -finishes his second glass and gestures for a refil- I'll get this one.

Stranger: --

Stranger: -watches you take drink of third beer-

Stranger: Drowning yourself isn't going to help in the long run.

Stranger: It's just going to kill your liver.

You: I've tried everything else, haven't I? Moving on, burying myself in work, cleaning out some of his stuff. This is better for now, at least. And, you know, at least that's a slow death. Gives him time, right? If there was ever doing to be a miracle...

You: *going

Stranger: So.. you're just biding your time, basically? In a holding pattern?

You: Am I? I don't know what I'm doing anymore. -runs his forehead- Thought about killing myself too, but he'd tell me I was stupid.

Stranger: He'd be right in that case.

You: Would he? I don't know. I don't want to though. Sometimes, though, I wish I was a cop, like you.

Stranger: ... Why?

You: -Sips the drink- Seems like a good way to honor his memory, doesn't it?

Stranger: -sips own drink-

Stranger: He basically thought all coppers were idiots.

You: -laughs- That's true. And I think I'd end up punching Donovan and Anderson in the face.

Stranger: They're only that bad around him, you know.

You: Sure. And around me, I just know they would be. They would only say 'I told you so'.

Stranger: No comment on that one.

Stranger: Do you... think you want a new flatmate?

Stranger: I mean, that's part of moving on, too.

You: -Raises his eyebrows- That's a big move, considering... The house is still littered with stupid books on beekeeping, beakers, old case files and bullet holes.

Stranger: Well, here. Like I said before, my lady and I are on the rocks... again. Right now I'm sleeping on Anderson's sofa. And /his/ wife is starting to complain about it, so...

Stranger: I knew him, too, so it's not like you'd have to explain the bullet holes.

You: Oh-- /you/ want to move in? I-- -shrugs a little- Yeah, sure. I mean-- just don't... judge the state of the apartment, okay?

Stranger: *snort*

Stranger: You said it was a mess and meant it, then?

Stranger: Full disclosure here, though.

Stranger: Mycroft wants to keep an eye on you.

You: Why would Mycroft care?

Stranger: He's somewhat concerned you'll just shoot yourself one of these days when you finally admit to yourself that Sherlock Holmes is dead.

You: -Stays quiet, closes his eyes and covers them- ...Is it wrong..? Th-- that I think... he's alive?

Stranger: -sits silent for a minute-

Stranger: I can't rightly say one way or the other. I'm a detective, not a therapist.

Stranger: I'm sort of the opinion that you had to be off your rocker just to get involved with him in the first place.

Stranger: This isn't that much worse, all things considered.

Stranger: In any case, if I move in, I'm not going to bug you about believing he's alive.

Stranger: Like I said, it's fine.

You: -Smiles slightly- Glad you think me being mad is okay... But-- why don't you move in with Mycroft?

Stranger: You've met 'im. Would /you/ want to move in with him?

You: /I/ Wouldn't want to 'date' him.

Stranger: I'm not---there's not---

Stranger: We're not dating.

You: -Looks up at him, raising an eyebrow-

Stranger: -smoldering glare- Shut up, okay?

Stranger: You never dated Sherlock.

Stranger: I've never dated Mycroft.

Stranger: I /am/ married, you know, even if we /are/ on the rocks.

You: But I also never had /sex/ Sherlock on /my/ work desk.

Stranger: How did you---

Stranger: Jesus.

Stranger: I don't even want to know.

Stranger: Wait.

Stranger: Seriously? You two /never/ shagged?

You: Nope. -sips his drink-

Stranger: You don't have to be all holier-than-thou about it. Sheesh. -turns toward own drink-

You: -Laughs- But really, we never did. I kissed him. A few times.

Stranger: Poor man really was married to his work.

You: Yeah... yeah. He was. I think, though, that... No, never mind.

Stranger: No, what?

You: -Shakes his head-

Stranger: --

Stranger: -shrugs- All right.

You: So, fine. You and Lestrade aren't dating. You can move in. -nods-

Stranger: I /am/ Lestrade.

Stranger: And you're drunk.

Stranger: We've gotta get you back to your flat, John. We can talk moving in tomorrow when you're sober enough to consider it seriously.

You: I meant-- Mycroft. Shit. I'm not drunk. -Frowns, once more finishing his drink-

Stranger: Yeah, you are. Here, up off the stool. I'll walk you to your flat.

You: I'm not. Promise. Swear.

Stranger: Uh huh. -slaps down some cash for the beer-

Stranger: Come on. I've gotta at least get my stuff out of Anderson's house. And I'll check the phone trace, okay?

Stranger: First, though, where are your flat keys?

You: Mm, pocket. -Slides off the chair, and it takes him a moment to find his feet-

Stranger: Oh jesus. -grits teeth and searches through John's pocket-

You: I'm not bloody useless, Lestrade. Get your hands out of my pocket. -Slaps at them, shoving his hand into his pocket and pulling out the keys-

Stranger: -laughs- And how do you know I wasn't just copping a feel, then?

Stranger: Whoa, whoa. I've got you. Just lean on me.

Stranger: Your flat's just down the way.

You: Were you? -snorts, leaning against him-

Stranger: -smiles affectionately, then frowns-

Stranger: No, I wasn't.

Stranger: Damn it, just hold still for a minute so I can get the keys in the door, will you?

You: Fine, fine. -Turns so he's leaning against the wall outside baker street-

Stranger: All right, here we are. Up the stairs.

Stranger: Not two at a time. Jesus, man.

You: It's faster that way! -turns around and nearly falls down the stairs, catching himself in time- Shit, I'm not drunk.

Stranger: Right, of course you're not. Give me your coat.

Stranger: Up one more flight.

You: I'm not. -Shrugs off his coat, then remembers to unzip it all the way-

Stranger: -rolls eyes, then hangs coat on rack-

Stranger: Go on. You know where your own room is, don't you?

You: Yeah. Yeah. -flips on the light in the lounge, it has barely changed, anything of Sherlock's just moved around to accomodate for John-

Stranger: Oh god. It's exactly the same. John, this is---

Stranger: -looks away-

Stranger: All right, well, just lie down for a bit, okay?

You: I know. I know. It's sad. -moves over to one of the chairs, sitting down- No. No I don't need to sleep...

Stranger: And you'd rather...?

You: We could-- watch telly or... I don't know. I... -licks his lips, hanging his head slightly- Haven't really sat down with someone here since...

Stranger: Oh for crying out loud. -sits down and pulls John down with him-

Stranger: I'm not going to leave until you're asleep, okay?

You: Wh'-- Greg...

Stranger: Relax. I'm not going to jump you.

You: -slumps against him and rubs his hands over his face again-

Stranger: It's not my style anyway.

You: Fine.

You: I believe you...

Stranger: You should. Even if I wanted to, you're drunk.

Stranger: Just rest for a while.

You: It's been ages since I've got laid though, is that weird? Am I mant to be able to move on, physically?

Stranger: It's not weird. You're a widower in mourning.

You: Wid-- we weren't married!

Stranger: Sure you weren't.

Stranger: Shhh.. Just close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere.

You: ...I loved him so much... -sighs, just leaning against Lestrade-

Stranger: I know, John. -hugs him halfway-

You: And I never-- I never got to tell him that...

Stranger: He knew.

You: Really? You think-- he knew?

Stranger: Of course he knew, idiot.

Stranger: He knew what kind of shaving cream everyone used just by the smell.

Stranger: There's no way he didn't know /that/.

You: Right. Right. He knew everything...

You: But he didn't know... How Molly felt... He didn't-- jesus, fuck, what if he didn't know? I didn't think he'd jump, I didn't think of it...

Stranger: He didn't care about Molly the same way he cared about you.

Stranger: It's all right... just breathe.

Stranger: He had a reason, remember?

Stranger: -grumbles-... Would've been nice of him to let us in on it.

You: -Moves slightly to the side, hiding his face in Lestrade's chest- On what...?

Stranger: On his big reason. Or plan. Or whatever.

Stranger: You know, so you wouldn't end up...

You: Yeah... yeah. I wish he had.

Stranger: I'm so sorry, John. Really.

You: It's okay. I have to get over him, right? I do.

Stranger: For everything. For my part in it. For his jumping off that damn building. For miracles not happening.

Stranger: It's not okay.

Stranger: You've been telling yourself that this whole time.

You: -His breath hitches as he inhales- No... no, you're right, it's not okay. I'm so... /stuck/ in this slump.

Stranger: -strokes John's hair-

Stranger: You need to sleep.

You: I need more than that...

Stranger: I know you want him back. To be alive still.

You: -Pulls back, looking at him, ducking his head once more to wipe his eyes- Yeah...

Stranger: ... I don't even know what to tell you.

Stranger: You already know everything I know.

Stranger: He's... gone.

You: I know. I know... -nods-

Stranger: You rest. I'll wait until you've nodded off, and then I'll go and check the phone trace. And get my crap from Anderson's.

You: Okay. Okay... -leans forward, pressing his lips against Lestrade's in a clumsy way-

Stranger: -surprised-

Stranger: -pulls back a little- John, I---you---

You: I just need to get over him.

Stranger: -chuckle- I know.

You: -frowns- Don't laugh...

Stranger: -schools expression- Sorry, I wasn't---

Stranger: I wasn't laughing at you.

Stranger: I was just thinking of something Sherlock told me...

Stranger: before I tried to arrest you both that time.

You: What..?

Stranger: He said, "Lestrade, John has nothing to do with this. I trust... you'll take care of him, won't you?"

Stranger: And I waved him off because... I mean, jesus, he was fucking Sherlock Holmes.

Stranger: -rubs hand over face-

Stranger: -laughs-

You: -Chokes on whatever he was about to say and rests his elbows on his knees, cradling his head between his hands with his shoulders hunched- Oh god..

Stranger: And he said your name the way only he does, you know? Like... /Jawn/...

You: -Laughs, but it's quiet, hollow and sad- Yeah...

Stranger: Oh for christ's sake. -pulls John into hug-

Stranger: Sorry I said anything about it at all.

You: I'm absolutely pathetic. -returns the hug-

You: Don't worry.

Stranger: I'd... I'd just forgotten he'd said that, is all.

You: No, no, thank you... It's-- Thank you.

Stranger: -snorts-

Stranger: Hardly like I've done anything anyway.

Stranger: -pulls back a little and then presses his lips to John's forehead-

You: -Smiles, closing his eyes- I'm sorry I kissed you.

Stranger: It's... it's all right.

Stranger: Let's not tell my wife, though, shall we?

You: -Laughs- Do you think she's scarier than the eldest Holmes brother?

Stranger: -laughs loudly- He probably knows it happened already. You know how he is.

You: Right, yeah, he probably knew it happened before it happened. I'm just.. I'm sorry. -smiles lopsidedly-

Stranger: Pssh. Stop apologizing. It's done.

Stranger: John, you're my friend.

You: And you're mine. Thanks for putting up with me.

Stranger: Of course.

Stranger: I offered to move in with you, didn't I?

Stranger: Which, by the way, we're not seriously discussing until you're sober so that you at least know what you're getting into.

You: Yeah, yeah you did. I should clean up... I'm sober enough.

Stranger: Leave the clean up until later.

Stranger: We can do it together.

You: Thank you, Greg. -leans back against the chair and closes his eyes-

Stranger: Anytime, John.

Stranger: Rest up and I'll be back before you know it. I'll bring takeaway.

You: Yeah, I'll just... sleep here. Just a nap. I'd say call me if you need anything, but I don't have my phone.

Stranger: -chuckle- I know where you live.

You: That you do.

Stranger: Night, John.

You: Night, Greg... Thanks. Again

You: .

Stranger: -ruffles John's hair and then quietly let's himself out-

Your conversational partner has disconnected.

[impishtubist]

Question for my fellow John/Lestrade fans:

Is "Jostrade" the decided-upon tag for this pairing, the way that "Sherstrade" is for S/L? (Or can we come up with a collective tag for everyone to use when tagging pics/GIFs/fics, etc?)

[wastingyourgum]

Fic: Lone Wolf (J/L), Part 3 (WIP)

Title: Lone Wolf, Part Three Fandom: Sherlock (BBC) Characters: John Watson, DI Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes Pairings: eventual John/Lestrade Rating: PG-13 (this part, higher later) Warnings: none Genre: Slash Words: ~1760 A/N: Almost to the prompt - but first... you may want to throw things at me for this bit. All comments, corrections and concrit welcome as usual. Summary: March 16th, 2010, John resolves to have a little chat with Lestrade. Lestrade beats him to it... Previous Parts: ( Part One ) ( Part Two ) ( Part Three )

[wastingyourgum]

Fic: Lone Wolf (J/L), Part 2 (WIP)

Title: Lone Wolf , Part Two Fandom: Sherlock (BBC) Characters: John Watson, DI Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes Pairings: eventual John/Lestrade (implied Ace!Sherlock) Rating: PG (this part, higher later) Warnings: none Genre: Slash Words: ~940 A/N: Nope, still not telling you the original prompt. :) This is a conversation I thought should happen... Summary: February 1st, 2010, John moves properly into Baker Street and overhears an interesting conversation... ( Part Two )

[wastingyourgum]

Fic: Lone Wolf (J/L), Part 1 (WIP)

(Sod it - I'll at least start posting this before S2 bumps it into the realms of AU...) Title: Lone Wolf, Part One Fandom: Sherlock (BBC) Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, DS Sally Donovan, DI Greg Lestrade Pairings: eventual John/Lestrade Rating: PG (this part, higher later) Warnings: none Genre: Slash Words: ~2700 A/N: Greatly expanded from a quick fill originally written for a prompt on the kinkmeme (the fill will be part of a later chapter so I'm not telling you which prompt until we get there ;P Feel free to guess though). No beta, please correct/criticise where you see fit. Summary: January 31st, 2010: John wakes up at his new home, the morning after the night before... ( Part One on my LJ)