A 221B fic (221 words, last word begins with a 'b')
Terror on Baker Street
Since they joined forces to solve crimes and blog about it (and occasionally forget their pants), Sherlock Holmes and John Watson have fought side by side. Sometimes they also fight each other, but their friendship has endured every crisis. Their story is told globally, and the world is a better place because of their work.
They have shared countless experiences. Some have been enjoyable. Many have been traumatic.
John has killed for Sherlock. Sherlock almost killed them both rather than allow his nemesis to continue his criminal rampage unchecked.
Sherlock has suffered the pain of having to lie to his best friend to keep him safe; John suffered the agony of believing his best friend was dead, and forgave him when he returned.
But nothing, nothing can compare to the terror which is currently stalking them throughout their daily lives. Nobody can help them; not even Mycroft can prevent this horror. There is nowhere to hide. No matter where they run they are haunted, hounded, left exhausted and unable to sleep for constant fear of attack. And the attacks are non-stop, frequently shocking, and leave them asking one anguished question: Why? Why?
This adversary: this adversary is persistent and terrifying. There is no escape, no rest, no hope of ever defeating the determined fanfic writer ...
... and her plot bunny.
Author's Note: Just in case there are any new readers here who don't know all the fandom terminology: when a fanfic writer gets an idea for a new story, or even just a sentence or a paragraph, or maybe a title – that's a plot bunny. They're called 'bunnies' because they have a nasty habit of multiplying so fast that you can't keep up with them all.
After writing three angsty stories on the trot, I informed my own very real plot bunny (she sits in my office and distracts me from my real ... I mean paid work) that it was probably time we wrote some fluff or some crack. I didn't particularly want to write a 221B, but as fic writers will know, when a bunny shoves an idea at you and demands, "Write it, b*tch," you don't have a lot of choice; and within a few hours she was whispering, "You do know there's a 'b' word you haven't used yet, don't you?" and waving a paw towards herself.
I just meekly did as I was told.