So recently I've been getting a lot of Wholock prompts… I shall hereby be putting them here, because I'm finding them fun to write!
Sherlock and The Impossible Woman
"What do you want?"
It had come to this. He had finally confronted her. The woman. The disappearing, intriguing, impossible woman.
It had begun two months ago, in the middle of one of the hottest summers London had seen in recent years. Midnight had passed and the temperature had not dropped, which was why Sherlock Holmes found himself wide awake and staring out of all of the open windows of Baker Street. At first he thought it was the heat, affecting his brain, making him see things. But after blinking, and knowing that he wasn't going mad, Sherlock found his lip curled in anticipation of a mystery.
He had spied in the empty street below a woman. A woman of pale skin and sharp eyes. She stood, legs strong, face upturned to look directly at his window. The only problem with this woman was the fact, the indisputable fact, that seconds beforehand she hadn't been there. It was if she had merely popped into existence.
As it turned out, she had.
It had taken time to find her roots, to work out who she was, but of course he had done it. He had scoured archives feverishly, following the flash of burning hair and the arch of her waving hand. He had seen her at crime scenes, at the height of the chase, at the calm that followed a solved case. Always watching.
And now here she was. Nowhere to go.
"Amy Pond, answer my question. Why have you been stalking me, appearing everywhere to only dissolve into darkness?"
He could see the fire in her eyes. Could see a smirk tugging at her lips as she struggled to fight back a chuckle.
"I had to get your interest somehow Sherlock." She said quietly, her confident strides bringing her barely an arms width away from him. "A mind like yours will only come with the call of a mystery." She was close enough for him to sweep her into his arms. He flexed his hand at his side.
She saw the movement, and held out her own.
"Come with me," she breathed, lips barely parting as he felt her eyes bore into his own "you have so much to see."
The electricity running through Sherlock's veins as his skin touched hers was enough to crackle behind his eyes, enough to burn him in the cooling night, she would burn him alive.
Her red lips quirked into a smile. She then pulled out a mobile phone from her skirt pocket. Dialling quickly and pulling the phone up to her ear her smile broke into a feverish grin, and the fingers interlaced with his tightened slightly.
"I have him." she said.
Anyone glancing twice at the alley they had been stood in would have had to look twice that night. Because one moment a tall man and his impossible lady had been stood there, and the next they were not.