January 13, 2012

What About Us? by John Barrowman, 3:34 (Sherlock)

Irene lounges on the sofa, clothed only in his blue silk dressing gown. Her hair is loose, her face startlingly nude without make-up. She asks about Coventry. Is it nice?

She starts being indelicate, but he can't focus on her words as she climbs off the sofa and saunters toward him, kneeling beside his chair and gently taking his hand.

A thousand volts spin out from the point of contact. He banters with her as he slides his fingers to her wrist. Elevated pulse. He whispers, and her pupils dilate. Anticipated pleasure.

So this is love? Strangely, he feels nothing.

:o:o:o:

Out of My League by Stephen Speaks (Molly)

Molly sighs as she doodles first his name, then hers, encircled by tiny hearts. Molly Holmes, she writes.

She wonders if Sherlock has ever been in love. He's certainly never shared, if he has. Mike is the only one he speaks civilly to, besides herself, so she doubts it.

Her mind drifts to his face and she imagines toying with his ebony curls, tracing the lines of his cheekbones and his long, graceful neck, finally deciphering what color his eyes are (blue, green, or gray, depending on the lighting).

The coffee maker dings, and she spills creamer all over her doodle.

:o:o:o: