Okay so this is a little experiment I'm doing, just a load of drabble really, I'm not sure where this is going but I've got a few ideas. Enjoy!
Your guardian angel – red jumpsuit apparatus
Fire and ice
"Sherlock?"
"Yes john?"
"Well… you, uh... what are those?"
John gestured to the two huge, white/golden wings Sherlock had on his back. And when he said huge he meant it, the bottom feathers touched the ground whilst the top, where the wings arched were about half a meter wide each.
Sherlock turned to look where his friend was pointing, and his face drained of all colour.
"John! You're dreaming!" sherlock shouted the first thing that came into his head.
"No, I'm not, why are you wearing wings sherlock?"
"I said. You. Are. Dreaming!"
"I just got back from-"
"Where did you just get back from john?"
"I can't remember…. WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!"
"Your dreaming john…. see, look at that saucepan, does it usually fly?"
John turned to look over his shoulder, into the kitchen, indeed there was a flying saucepan…. WHAT THE?
"No…."
"Good, now go to sleep!"
John frowned back at sherlock. Sherlock's eyes flashed bright silver and he passed out.
_~Sherlock~_
That was too close for comfort.
Sherlock sighed, his wings fluttering before slowly disappearing.
He looked at the unconscious john, lying on the living room floor. There was a clatter in the kitchen as the saucepan dropped out of mid air.
He had forgotten about that.
He ran his hands through his dark hair, his shoulder blade starting to prickle slightly.
The mark… he thought.
All angels got a mark, it fed information from them to their peers, and whenever the angel did something wrong e.g. nearly informing a mortal of its presence (like he just did) it started burning, hotter and hotter until the offending angel went to the meeting that the burning mark was telling him about.
They were calling him to a meeting. And by them, he meant Mycroft, one of the five angels in charge.
It was getting hotter, but he knew he could withhold it. He had done it so many times before, eventually the five would just give up on him. He already thought they had until a few months ago.
That was completely moriarty's fault, if he hadn't of followed him down here-
John stirred in his heap on the floor.
Sherlock knelt down, picking john up off the floor and carrying him upstairs into his room, placing him in his bed.
The man grumbled in his sleep, twisting his body into a more comfortable position. Sherlock smiled before turning back out of the room, flicking the light off as he exited.
_ ~Mycroft~ _
Mycroft sat in his office, tea steaming in front of him on the grey marble desk. He leant back in his chair, sighing, today was one of the better days, there had been no angel sightings in London and as for the criminal classes, well, when was there never a crime?
Just then, the door opposite him opened, Anthea walked in, her snow white, messenger dove on her arm.
"A message has arrived sir" she stated, the dove glided off of her arm and onto the gold perch on Mycroft's desk, dropping a single white feather before him.
He leant forward, taking his reading glasses out of his pocket and into the bridge of his nose to read the gold message on the feather. He groaned when he read it. One word. One name gleamed in front of him like a smirk.
SHERLOCK.
AGAIN!
Okay so this was just a little idea I had, twists and turns to be expected! I will write more if I get reviews, faves etc… I don't like having my time wasted especially with the stress of 6th form and university, a levels, grades etc… and just life in general! So give feedback and more will be on its way soon, I like to know that I'm getting something out of this rather than just spending hours on nothing sorry if this came over a bit harsh but you understand?
-Alice! =D