#winterlockexchange

[shinysherlock]

BACK

A 221b ficlet for dorian-rainbow for Winterlock. Prompt was: johnlock, anything related to series 3. I saw you reblogged this gifset and it got me thinking about that scene in The Empty Hearse, right before John is abducted, and what might have been going through John’s head as he oscillated on the pavement. <3

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BACK

I meant to come right in, you know. Just come right up the stairs.

I meant to apologize. I shouldn’t have hit you. Repeatedly, anyway. I mean, you deserved it, no question, but--

Jesus, Sherlock. Why’d you have to do it like that? In public, in disguise, like a sodding reality show? I half-expect there to be video of me throttling you up on youtube.

And it’s not--not really--what I wanted to do, even. It would have gone so much differently, I think, had it been private, had you truly been honest about it all, had it been just you and me.

Much differently.

Maybe that’s what you were afraid of.

Ella urged me, time and again. There’s things you wanted to say, but didn’t, she said. Say them now. And I couldn’t--wouldn’t--say them, of course not. What would be the point? You were dead. Everything was over.

But now, somehow, you’re back, and that means something. Yes, it means you’re alive--which all on its own is a bloody miracle to me--but it’s even more than that.

A second chance.

Only a coward would waste it.

So I think I’m ready now. Ready to say those things. The only question is, are you ready to hear them?

Because now that we’re here again, I don’t think I can hold them back.

[dhampir72]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

For idontactuallylikethissite for the 2014 Winterlock Exchange. Apologies that it's so late, but I hope that it's the right amount of angst you were looking for <3

[belidoodles]

My winterlock exchange for goldenheartedrose.

sorry for the delay dear, I hope you like it.

[winterlockexchange]

Darlings, if you change your URL, there is no way for us to find you and deliver your gifts! Please let us know your new URL.

[clandestinepen-blog]

Seeker

Sherlock is the kind of man everyone wants to know, but doesn’t want to admit they know. He’s the one to seek out when discrete help is needed. The village is terrified and in awe of him. “If you want to find your sister,” Mike whispers to John, “go find Sherlock. He stays on the Hudsons’ land.” “How will he find her?” John asks. “Don’t ask questions you don’t want answered,” ~~~ “You’re recently from war,” Sherlock says, his eyes intense. “You’re worried about your sister” “You haven’t brought out the cards,” John says. “Or cast stones or turned over my teacup.” “There’s no need.” Sherlock grins. “Magic can be accomplished without tools.” “It can,” John agrees. “By a wizard.” “Who are you to tell me I’m not?” The small brick house illuminates with golden light. The book in Sherlock’s hands turns into a snake, slithering with iridescent scales. In a flash it all disappears, and they’re left with stale air lit grey by an overcast sky. Sherlock clears his throat. “A Healer, I take it? There’s always something I miss.” “Not a magical bone in your body.” John frowns. “They call you a wizard. Why?” “I found the rest without magic. With your magic, we’ll find her by sundown tomorrow.” “You sound like you’re offering me a job.” “Maybe I am.”

[justgot1]

I am only ONE DAY LATE with my Winterlock Exchange gift!  Woot!  ::High fives all around::

For the ever-talented cypress-tree, here is a ficlet with an accompanying art (artlet?).  Enjoy!

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We're All Mad Here

“One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small,” said the cat, appearing smile-first over the nightstand.

John snorted.  “No, it doesn’t.  Anyway, that’s Jefferson Airplane.”

The cat’s lithe, black body faded in beneath him, the air coagulating into a solid.  Last to appear above his fanged grin were a pair of jade, almond-shaped eyes. “Nevertheless,” he purred, licking a paw.

John picked up the bottle and rattled the little orange gel caps inside.  They did seem to glow in a slightly disturbing way.  “The label says they’re stool softeners,” he said.  “My stool is just fine, thank you.”

“Labels,” the cat scoffed.

“He’s right, you know.”  A preoccupied-looking rabbit in a paisley waistcoat holding a small black umbrella offered this up from the end of the single bed, ears alert, and glancing around.  “It’s an off-label usage.”

“Why would I want to be either larger or smaller?”

The cat sighed and glanced up and to the right briefly, as if asking for patience from the heavens.  “It’s a metaphor, idiot.”

John put the bottle down and picked up the next, larger one which contained long, golden capsules that stuck together slightly.  He shook them apart.  “And these?”  John read the label – fish oil, 100mg.

“Flight.  Obviously,” drawled the cat.

“Can also induce synesthesia,” put in the rabbit, looking distractedly out the bedsit window.  “If you’re prone to that sort of thing.”

John put those down thoughtfully.  The next was a bubble pack containing little blue oblong pills in pairs.  The box said Nighttime Sleep Aid.  He picked it up and waved it expectantly at the cat.

“Opens the third eye,” the cat responded, bored.

“Of course it does.”

The last was a prescription bottle of dull, plastic capsules.  “Clarithromycin,” he read.

The rabbit was staring at the door.  “Oh,” he said indifferently.  “That’s just an antibiotic.”

“Yes, I do know,” John replied tartly.  “I suspect that will prove to be the most useful one, where I’m going.”  He struggled briefly with the childproof cap, then downed one of the boring, practical little pills.

“Oh!  Are we going, then?”  The rabbit perked up.  He tugged down his waistcoat and checked his pocketwatch.  “Good, because I’m running late.”

Into his cupped palm, John shook out one bright orange pill, and one golden pill, then popped out a pair of the blue ones from the bubble pack.  “Of course I’m going, you think I’m going to stay here?”  He paused to build up a little spit in his mouth and cupped it in his tongue.  Then he tossed back the handful and swallowed them all down.

 “Let’s go, then,” said the cat, his body melting back into nothingness until only his smile was left, hovering over the tissue box.  “I’ll meet you there.”

 John climbed out of his increasingly too-small bed, opened his third eye, and went.

[queerwatsonmoved]

summary: Jane Watson has an enormous crush on Sherlock Holmes, and asks her to partner up for a project. Things turn out better than expected.

a/n: this didn't quite turn out the way i meant for it to? but i think it's still cute. hopefully.

this is my (day late, sorry!!!!!!) winterlock exchange for consultingsmartarse! i hope you enjoy it! you said aus and that femlock was okay, so i wrote you some teen femlock fluff.

[ramblelifeaway]

Snowfall

A small ficlet for stunningphasers for the Winterlock exchange.

The blonde sighed deeply, rubbing his forehead. “Sherlock,” he stated slightly louder, “It’s snowing. First of the year.” His words were registered this time and though it took him a moment, the brunette actually gave a response. “It’s winter, John, of course it’s snowing. I don’t see why you’re insisting on informing me of such a mundane occurrence.” The detective gave a bored sigh to accompany his words.

John huffed and moved to stand in front of Sherlock. “First snow of the year, Sherlock. Remember? You promised you would enjoy it with me once it stuck.” He crossed his arms in an almost defiant gesture. “Come on, get up. There’s a good layer on the ground now. Get dressed and let’s go out. Please?” The detective gave an overly dramatic sigh and pushed himself of the sofa. “Fine. Fine.” He stormed off towards his room to change. The blonde rolled his eyes and chuckled softly. Ever so dramatic. He himself headed up stairs to his own room to pull on another jumper and his jacket. Sherlock was waiting for him at the base of the stairs, looking impatient. The doctor rolled his eyes and moved past him, heading out the door. “Come along you.”

The brunette followed behind, his entire demeanor giving off an annoyed air. His entire attitude was starting to get on John’s nerves. After several minutes of the detective just standing in the snow looking everything like a petulant child, his blogger had had enough. Bending down, he scooped up a couple handfuls of snow and packed it together into a ball. Straightening up, he tossed it at the unsuspecting genius, hitting him square in the chest. Sherlock looked a little dazed for a moment and the older male laughed at his expression. Finally snapping out of it, the consultant bent down and made his own snowball with a faint grin. He lunged it at John, catching him in the shoulder. What resulted afterwards was an hour long  snowball fight that left them both soaked, freezing, and giggling like toddlers.

Leaning on each other, the detective and his blogger made their way back up to the flat.

“Well.”

“Well?”

“That was...fun?”

“Glad you think so. Now let’s change before we both catch our death of pneumonia.”

There was a pause, each heading off to their own rooms.

“John?”

“Sherlock?”

“Can we...Can we go back out tomorrow?”

A soft chuckle came from up the stairs.

“Yeah, of course.”