Okay, so no one reviewed with ideas. Luckily for you, I happen to have a drabble already written for Sherlock. I expected better from you guys. I really did.
Imagine yourself walking the streets of London. You're not really paying attention to where you're going. As you turn the corner you realize you're lost. You spin in place, looking for a familiar landmark. You stop, your eyes resting on the café across from you, Speedy's. And next to it is the familiar façade of 221b Baker Street. You're frozen, the only thing you can do is stare. As you stare a tall figure walks up the few steps and stops in front of the door. You think he looks familiar, but he's too far away for you to tell. As he enters the flat you cross the street. You stand in front of the café, not sure what to do now. You don't have to wait long, a few minutes after you crossed the street, the figure you saw earlier stumbles out onto the street. he's cradling his face, as if it had been punched. Another man, one you recognize as John Watson, steps out and towers over the fallen man. He leans down and grabs the man by the collar of his coat, lifting him up.
"You bloody git! You left me alone for years! Years! And then you show up again and expect me to just accept you back into my life?" Joh demands of the taller man. You aren't completely sure, but you think this man is Sherlock Holmes.
"John, please." His voice confirms it, his deep baritone one you would recognize anywhere. The man John is fighting with, the one he punched, is Sherlock Holmes. The same Sherlock that's supposed to be dead. You watch mesmerized as the two have a row with each other in the middle of the sidewalk. John has thrown Sherlock back down onto the ground and Sherlock is getting up. he dusts of his Belstaff, a coat you can't help but recognize, and mutters something you can barely hear. Apparently John had trouble hearing it as well, and asks Sherlock to repeat it.
"I said I was sorry! I only jumped to protect you! And Mrs Hudson, and Lestrade! He was going to kill you!" Sherlock yelled. You can only assume that the 'he' Sherlock mentioned was Moriarty. You aren't sure what happens next, because everything is going dark. You feel yourself fall as you faint, the world going black before you even hit the ground.
I realize that this is really short, but that's what happens when you don't prompt me! Now, the next story prompt I receive had better be a Supernatural based one, or so help me Chuck, I will smite all of you! Thanks!