The way the black mood feels when it comes is hard for him to explain. What it feels like now, on the sofa, is like he's suspended between the light and the dark, the warmth and cold, with everything being tugged downward. If he moves at all, he might break free or completely submerge. He reckons it's too dangerous to try. So all he can do is wait for it to pass, or to consume him.

4 letters in a span of years. All to Father Christmas. Sherlock-centric; one-shot; hints at Sherlolly.

Omegaverse. John Watson had no shame about his biology but no reverence for it either. He was an omega, he got on with it, end of story. If only Sherlock Holmes could make peace with being an alpha.

"In a dark and empty alley of the streets of London, Sherlock Holmes was dying." When you think everything is over, sometimes you're wrong [VAMP!LOCK FANFICTION]

All the lights go out in London and Sherlock, John and Mrs Hudson set out to retrieve Lestrade from a conference in Coventry. But electronics and phones and cars don't work anymore. Sort of like Mad Max but without the leather chaps. Takes place before any of the events of The Reichenbach Fall have occurred. Rating for violence, language, no sex.

It was decided that John needed rest, what with him just gotten kidnapped, drugged, and nearly burned alive on a bonfire. But John knew it. He knew the feeling, the thrill of the chase, the blood pumping through his veins, just the two of them against the rest of the world. And if Sherlock standing there with his worried face meant anything, it's that John forgave him. Oneshot, TEH

This is a short, sort of companion piece to my story, "An Innocent Man." I strongly suggest you read that first. It's a canon-compliant one-shot scene that takes place between "The Hounds of Baskerville" and "The Reichenbach Fall." Further explanation inside. Not slash.

Una relación que prometía ser falsa, en donde lo único que interesa es el sexo y el dinero. Eso es todo lo que Gregory tenía, y un trabajo en el que se resguardaba siempre. Pero cuando tiene una cita con el mismísimo gobierno británico, las cosas cambian un poco.

After criminal chasing gone a bit bad, Sherlock is called into a court about his violence towards a culprit. And now he should talk his way out of a sentence. slight johnlock.

In a world where eye colour is dictated by human emotion, wounded war hero John Watson meets the enigmatic Sherlock Holmes and finds his own eyes sparking back to life.

No… No, I never thought it would come to this… This… I've never made this huge mistake… The mistake of loosing him…

John crossed his legs. Was he really going to explain to Sherlock what the 'concept of love' was all about? Not that he was an expert on that particular issue. No, really, he wasn't. But he knew how it felt to fall for someone. It was nice. (Johnlock)

It's amazing how a seemingly small decision can change your life forever.

Sherlock talks John out of suicide. One-shot. Pre TRF.

Sherlock's a punk. John is a rugby player. You see where this is going.

Sherlock has 42 freckles and 8 scars on his body. John knows this number by heart because he occasionally enjoys finding them all and kissing them.

When John is on the warpath he throws out Sherlock's syringe. Let's just say it was a bad idea and leave it at that...

One-shot. Small Sherlock whump, I was bored. Sherlock solves a fairly easy crime, but, at the last possible minute, he jump into the line of fire. Sorry, crappy summary, but - oh just read it!

This is one of the very few cases which John believes may stump Sherlock Holmes. Three murders, completely different, and more on the way. Even Sherlock knows he's not getting anywhere. If he wants to solve this, he'll have to ask for help. But by the time he does, the one person most important to him is already in danger...

Sherlock knew that he was not nice. He couldn't be, because every Christmas he was on the naughty list. That was the only thing that could explain why he never got what he truly wanted for Christmas. Day 6 and Day 23 of Hudders and Hiddles 25 days of fic-mas Christmas writing prompts.

They need each other to get through the nightmares of the night.

He didn't have any idea how any of this started. To be honest, he's also a bit unsure why they're in this particular situation, really. All he knew is that it's raining hard outside and it's impossibly windy and cold under the roof of their shabby dormitory and the warmth of her hand in his is a particularly comfortable feeling.

"And what about John Watson?" Sherlock had asked. He had expected a rather dull answer...after all, he had been away. He had not expected to hear that John had spent the past two years in prison. Series 3 AU. Not slash.

Mary Morstan is making a batch of gingerbread man. A dangerous tell, but Christmas traditions are the hardest to break. for day 8 of 25 days of fic-mas

Two years after he died, the man with the hat is back. But during those years what did he leave behind? Just how broken is the man he loved? ****blatant JohnLock...basically just the empty hearse with added JohnLock, angst and commentary by the good Dr.Watson*****