Is there any full body picture of Watson out there?
I have a few, yes
First two were done by @inkydevildraws and the last one by @anointed-inkHe’s a strange one in that his body was never formed into a proper ‘toon’ of sorts, he’s just all ink. Tends to drip if he starts to lose his composure, and has some shape-changing ability akin to Venom.Also, yes, his design is inspired as well by Father from Codename: Kids Next Door.
I got inspired to do another bit of writing for the Son of Ink AU. This time featuring my own boy Watson and @thelostmoongazer ‘s big blue bastard, Mr. Moon.
Watson stood in front of his bedroom mirror with an annoyed expression, his lone eye flicking back and forth between the two ties in his hands. He’d been caught at this juncture for the better part of the last ten minutes, unable to decide which of the pair he’d rather put on. Unfortunately for him, the only person around that could aid him in that choice was completely useless when it came to matters of fashion.
“What is difference between the two, I do not understand. Just pick.” Bonnie murmured with a dismissive wave of her hand, paying more attention to the pistol she was assembling while sitting at his desk.
“I have to make a good first impression, that’s what. I always wear black but I’ve been thinking about adding some more color into my wardrobe, but I don’t know if now’s the time to commit!” Watson replied with an exasperated sigh, holding each of the silken accessories to his neck one at a time.
Bonnie sighed and shook her head, standing from the desk and leaving the gun partially assembled. She stepped over and yanked the blue tie out of his hand, then ripped it into two pieces and dropped it in the trash. “Decision is made. Get dressed, you’ll be late.” she said simply, pushing him towards the closet with one hand before sitting down at the desk again.
Watson frowned, grumbling something about her owing him a new tie as he resumed his preparations. A freshly starched white shirt, black vest with gold accents, and the tie that had been so generously picked for him were put on and adjusted with intricate care, and he completed his look with a pair of gold cufflinks. He unhooked his jacket from the inside of the closet and slipped it on, smoothing out the sides before stepping to the desk.
Bonnie looked him up and down once as she stood, then handed over his freshly cleaned and assembled 1911. “I must admit, you do clean up well. Do not be gone late, yes?” she grinned, and Watson rolled his eye as he stowed the gun in its specially modified holster, sewn into the lining of his coat.
“Yes, yes, I know I’m not allowed to dress up this nice without giving you the chance to un-do it later.” he replied with a laugh, leaning over to give her a quick peck on the cheek. “Shouldn’t take more than a few hours, I hope!” he called as he left, snatching up an umbrella from the rack beside the door.
A quick jaunt in the elevator brought him to street level, the night sky was overcast but the rain had yet to begin to fall, leaving his umbrella no more than an accessory for the time being. He waited on the curb patiently for a few moments, eventually hailing down a cab with some effort.
“Keens. Make it quick, if you please, I’m running dangerously close to late.” Watson asked of the driver before slipping the man a folded 5 dollar bill, which was enough to get a wide eyed nod before the yellow car streaked off into the busy night streets.
The arrival to his destination was prompt, despite the ride through the city being a bit on the dangerously fast side. “Keep the change.” he murmured with a nod, stepping out onto the curb once again before hooking his umbrella on his arm. Watson took a moment to compose himself, producing his brass pocket watch from his inner coat as he paced in front of the building. From everything Zandris had said, this was a very important contract, and someone he most certainly wanted to be on the good side of. He looked down at the small card in his other hand one last time. Keens Steakhouse, Table 14, 7pm. His pocket watch read exactly 6:58 as he stepped through the door.
Watson was hit with a wave of sensations all at once. The restaurant was warm and pleasant, and the comforting aroma of pipe smoke and finely cooked meats permeated throughout, melding with the faint tinge of old wood and broken-in leather. He stepped up to the hostess stand, weaving past a small crowd of people that were presumably waiting for a table. A quick conversation was enough to gain him entrance, and the inky toon quickly found himself led through a maze of tables, people, and food.
His destination was the farthest back corner of the restaurant, a large corner booth nearly obscured by pipe smoke and cast in shadow from the wall sconces. He approached with confidence and cleared his throat, stowing his watch away again in his jacket pocket. “I believe I’m here to meet a client.”
He saw movement in the booth, a figure shifted into view with shadow still cast along part of his frame. A broad shouldered man in a clean white pinstriped vest with matching tie, dark shirt...and strangely, no neck. Instead, a few inches above where the odd cutoff ended, a particularly round blue head sat, with one eye and two mouths. Both of which were giving Watson an extremely toothy smile. “Ah! You must be the...Butler, was it? Please, sit, we have business to discuss.”
Watson smiled as well, taking the offered seat across from his client with a nod of his head. “Please, call me Watson.” He reached out to offer a hand, and was met with a rather firm shake, something he expected from a man of his build.
“Mr. Moon.” the blue toon replied, lounging back in the booth again. His free hand held a glass of what could only be red wine, and it caught Watson’s eye immediately. Being so brazen with alcohol in a place like this only cemented that this man was not a person he wished to cross. “You come highly recommended, Mr. Watson. According to our...mutual friend, there’s no-one better in this city to call when you have a...problem that needs to be addressed.”
Watson nodded in agreement, looking to the side at the waitress that approached the table. Before he had a chance to speak, his companion addressed her instead. “Another of the same for my friend here, sweetheart.” He spoke, flashing that toothy smile again. “Drink and steak, medium rare.” The blue toon flicked his lone eye to Watson for a moment, and he simply nodded again in confirmation before the waitress departed the table.
“That’s very generous of you.” Watson spoke up, neatly steepling his fingers in front of him. “And I’m glad that my reputation somewhat precedes me. I pride myself on that very much.” He smiled, adjusting his tie slightly almost out of reflex.
“Indeed it does.” Mr. Moon replied, quietly sipping from his glass as he affixed his singular eye on the inky toon across from him. “You see, I find myself in a very unfortunate situation. I’ve recently acquired some new assets along the Hudson, several large warehouse operations for moving product in and out of the city. But therein lies my problem. The current operator of their facility, well...let’s just say he’s yet to accept the fact that he’s under new management.”
Watson watched his companion as he spoke, looking over his features and body language. There was something off-putting about this man’s presence. In the way he carried himself, the way he spoke and acted, that hinted at a far darker person underneath. As if this was all an act, and at the smallest slight he may snap. It was unsettling.
“Now, I’m a generous man. Those that work for me will tell you as much, all I really ask for is respect.” the blue toon continued, pausing momentarily when their food was delivered. Watson had never seen such perfectly prepared steak before, and found himself relaxed by having something else to focus on besides his client’s unnerving nature. He listened quietly, both enraptured by his words and cautiously watching his every move.
“I’ve tried giving him every chance, I really have, but he just. Doesn’t. Get. It.” Every word was punctuated by another move of his knife, carving into the steak in a particularly violent manner. “And so, I’m unfortunately left with no choice but to employ someone such as yourself to...handle this problem for me.” As he spoke, Watson made note of his second mouth, that had slowly shifted from a smile to a frown over the course of the conversation.
“I see. A very unsavory situation indeed.” Watson replied after a moment, neatly cutting his steak as he talked. “I would be more than happy to deal with this for you. What sort of...problem solving do you require here? Merely a conversation, a suggestion to pay better attention, or…”
“I want the fucker dead.” the second mouth rasped in a low growl, causing Watson to start almost imperceptibly in his seat. Mr. Moon coughed into his napkin. “Pardon me, this issue has been...grating on me for some time now and I can’t speak of it without getting...rather irritated.” He smiled again, but that only served to further Watson’s apprehensiveness towards the man.
Watson nodded in agreement, deciding the best course of action was to remain businesslike. “Certainly. Do you wish there to be a message left behind, or for him to simply...disappear?” He waved one hand in the air, and Mr. Moon nodded slightly.
“Make him vanish without a trace.” he replied, popping another piece of steak into his mouth. The upper set of teeth had shifted to a more neutral expression now, and just that little change was enough to ease Watson’s nerves.
“As soon as possible, I would assume?” the inky toon asked with a raised eyebrow, earning him another nod of acknowledgement. “Wonderful. Then I’ll be able to take care of it tonight, provided you have the required assets.”
Mr. Moon reached under the table and pulled up a black leather briefcase, sliding it across the booth to his companion with one hand. “All the information’s in there, along with the 50% up front. Unmarked, as required.” He replied, lifting his glass after a moment to take another sip without taking his eye off the other man.
Watson popped the case open for a moment to peer inside, glancing over the dossier of information along with the multiple neat stacks of bound bills. He closed it with a snap and dabbed at his lips with his napkin, then smiled. “Well, everything seems to be in order. Our mutual friend will be in touch once the job is completed.”
Mr. Moon smiled again, with both of his mouths. “Wonderful. That’s the best news I’ve heard all week.” he quipped, waiting for Watson to stand before sitting forward to shake his hand again. “All goes well, we’ll certainly do business again. I always have problems that need solving. Can’t escape it.” He chuckled dryly.
“Do have a pleasant rest of your evening.” Watson replied, turning on his heel and quickly departing the restaurant. Once he was outside, he gasped, releasing a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding in. A light drizzle had started to fall, and he unfurled his umbrella before striding to the nearest payphone.
“We’ve got a date tonight.” Watson spoke into the receiver once it was picked up. “Meet me up dockside in an hour with the Browning, if you please.”
“It went well?” Bonnie replied, leaning against the refrigerator on the other end of the line.
“Reasonably, despite the guy giving me the absolute creeps. He had two mouths.”
“Two mouths...and blue?” Bonnie asked, and Watson was silent for a few moments.
“How did you guess that. Don’t tell me you’ve…” he trailed off, and Bonnie laughed.
“I wish. No, he is best customer I have.”
“That...that explains a whole lot.” Watson replied after a long pause. “We’ll talk when I get there.”
He hung up and stepped out of the booth again, looking back at the phone and then to the door of the restaurant with a weary sigh. Thank goodness it was all just business.
Summary: Sherlock is the first to notice that John and Lestrade are flirting instead of paying attention to him. He is not impressed. John is, though. Impressed, that is. And...pleased. As is Lestrade. Pleased...and nervous. Pasts, presents and possible futures make up six installments (and a smutty epilogue) rotating POV between Sherlock, Lestrade and John, set shortly after John moves in with Sherlock.
Part One :: Without looking back at them Sherlock pulled out his pocket magnifier and drawled, "If you've finished with your flirting I've some evidence that might interest you."
Review: There’s a lot more to this fic than the title suggests. There’s a back-story and angst and risk taking and loveliness. Very good fic.
Summary: John had a one night stand before he was deployed to Afghanistan. He never expected to meet him again years later...
Review: After the initial one night stand then meeting again and realising who the other is, there is a slow build up to their relationship which works perfectly. Sherlock’s protectiveness is adorable and also a great catalyst.
