A/N: I just realized that I never posted any of these fics here on FFN, when they've been on AO3 forever! So, here we go—a collection of either unrelated or out-of-order oneshots about Sherlock Holmes and Beth Lestrade. PURELY shippy and I make no apologies.
The title of this collection comes from a Pablo Neruda poem, and it's all Riandra's fault. :D
==1. Love Letters==
They were curled up together on the sofa, enjoying the peace and quiet. She was engaged in her favorite pastime, running her fingers through his silky hair, when a random thought occurred to her. "Hon?"
"Mm?"
She had to smile—her ministrations were already making him zone out. "Why don't you write me love letters anymore?"
He turned The Eyebrow upon her. "I was under the impression that love letters were to cease upon matrimonial commencement."
She tilted her head, still smiling. "They don't have to stop. I kind of miss your letters—they were surprisingly and delightfully romantic."
He snorted, though a smile lurked in his grey eyes. "I must confess that I turned back to The Sign of the Four for aid," he murmured. He lifted his hand and ran his fingers through her hair.
She tilted her head back and hummed softly in pleasure, her own hand stilling. "They were beautiful." She turned her head and kissed his wrist. "Just like you."
He blushed slightly, but he didn't stop stroking her hair. "Then it appears that I must continue to write them if they gave you so much pleasure," he breathed. He leant in and kissed her gently on the lips.
"Yes, please," she whispered, and kissed him back.