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Fourth story in Bittersweet is up. So many feels. I think this is a good ending to the series.

Demons – Sherlock acts out, but it leads to some necessary conversations between Greg and Sherlock.

teaser below the cut

ate in the morning Greg got a call to a scene. It didn’t seem that bad so he didn’t bother texting Sherlock about it. One thing led to another and it was four days before he realized he hadn’t heard from Sherlock at all. He texted and didn’t get an answer. Figuring he might be on a case he decided to give him some space.

When two more days had passed without any contact, Greg started to get worried. He went first to Baker Street and learned he hadn’t been home in at least a day. Cursing, he went back out to his car. He looked at himself in the rearview mirror and ran a hand through his hair. He should have paid closer attention. If Sherlock was hurting himself…shaking his head he started the car. It had been a long time, but he still knew a few places to go look.

The third club he walked into he spotted a familiar form in the corner. Taking a breath, he walked over. Sherlock was making out with a young blonde man. It was like a knife twisted in his gut, but he put a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. Starting, Sherlock raised his head and looked up at the inspector. He was high, at least going by his eyes. Greg squeezed.

“Hey, old man,” the object of Sherlock’s attention growled at him. “Shove off.”

“No, I don’t think so. I think it’s quite time for him to leave.”

The stranger reached for Sherlock’s hand. “You going to let your dad stop us when we’re just getting started?”

Sherlock got unsteadily to his feet. “Not my Dad.” He twisted in Greg’s hand and snogged him sloppily.”

Greg went very still, peeling Sherlock off him. The blonde stood, just a few inches taller. “Sugar daddy?”

“None of the above.” Greg met his eyes.

“Yeah, probably can’t get it up anyway.”

Greg seemed to barely move, but the blonde was stumbling back, grabbing his bloody nose. “Wanker punched me!” He waved in Greg’s direction.

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Third story in the Sherstrade series, Bittersweet, is up.

Nightmares – Sherlock wakes Greg up with his nightmares.

teaser below the cut

Greg woke quickly to a small noise. Sherlock had rolled over, back to him, sheets nearly thrown off. He whimpered a bit louder and Greg sat up against the headboard. The man was nearly curled into a ball, hands up as if protecting his head. He looked young and vulnerable in the darkness.

Reaching over, Greg carefully place a hand on his shoulder. “Sher,” he said softly. He jerked away. “Sherlock,” Greg’s voice was firmer. “You’re not there, wherever it is. Come back to me.”

There were a few more sounds. Greg kept talking and finally Sherlock’s body shifted and he raised his head. “Greg?” He asked cautiously.

“Yes.”

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Fanwork Friday this week is career change, with the idea of putting them into another ‘verse. awabubbles convinced me to do a superwood in Firefly, and something–tookish had the brilliant idea of making John Hart my Jayne:

“I have had nothing but trouble since you two came on board!” Jack raged, swaggering towards the young man standing in front of him. “You and your brother are nothing but trouble, and I should just let the Alliance have you both.”

“But you won’t,” said Dean, fire sparking in his own eyes as he tried to stay calm.

“Your brother is crazy,” said John Hart, checking one of his guns.

Dean swung around at him. “Sam isn’t crazy. And how do we know it wasn’t you that tipped off the Alliance?”

“Enough,” growled Jack, aware the others were watching them on the catwalk above. Shepherd Castiel leaned on the rail next to Ianto, looking as put together as ever, Gwen was his second in command and Tosh took care of the engines. Owen was his pilot. “Take care of your brother, the rest of you get back to work.” Jack stalked towards the bridge.

Ianto slipped next to him. “I need to know where we’re going next so I can arrange clients.”

Jack stopped and looked at him, wondering once again what Ianto was doing as a Companion. “Badger has some work for us, so that’s where we’re going.”

“Thank you, Captain,” he said formally, turning to go back to his room. Jack watched him walk away.

“I don’t know why you don’t take advantage of that,” John appeared next to him, leering.

“He’s off limits to crew, you know that.” Jack suddenly grabbed the front of John’s shirt and pushed him up against the wall. “You better not be selling out Dean and Sam. They’re on this ship, they’re crew. Dean pulls his weight around here. You sell them out,  you sell all of us.”

“I know, I know, Captain. Fact still stands that Sam’s nuts.”

“When I want your opinion I’ll tell you what it is. Leave Dean and Sam alone.” Jack turned towards the bridge again.

Cas stopped him just as he turned another corner. “I do hope you are not seeking to remove Sam from this vessel.”

“Of course not, Shepherd.  Just don’t need more attention on ourselves. “

There was a loud clang from the engine room. “Tosh?” Jack headed down to investigate.

“Everything’s shiny,” said Tosh, vanishing around behind some equipment.

Jack shook his head and turned back for the bridge.

Gwen stopped him just before he got there. “You have John under control?”

“Leave John to me, Gwen.”

She looked him in the eyes, then relented, letting him finally reach the bridge. Owen was sitting at the pilot’s console. “We’ll be there in about five hours.”

“Were you planning on berating me too?”

Owen shrugged. “I’ll let Gwen handle that.” He got up. “Badger knows we’re coming.” He wandered off, leaving the Captain alone.

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Jack jumped as he raised his head and found Sam watching him. “No, I’m not kicking you and your brother off,” he said gently.

Sam curled up in the pilot’s seat, surprisingly well, considering his size. He watched the stars go by. Jack reached over and patted his knee. “You’re both safe here, far as I’m concerned.”

He didn’t respond to the touch or the words. Jack sighed and leaned back, watching the view as well and enjoying the brief moment of quiet.

 (not on AO3, debating if I should)

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Okay, I finally wrote a sherstrade:

Ghosts – A few nights after John’s wedding, Greg gets a text.

teaser below the cut

Greg rolled over and grabbed his phone as it buzzed the second time. Come over – SH

Blinking, he saw it was just past 1 AM. sighing, he got up and threw in clothes. On my way -GL

The drive to Baker Street was familiar as he drove through the dark London streets. He knew why he was being called; John was still on his honeymoon.

Greg moved quietly up the stairs. They hadn’t been lovers since about six months before John had come onto the scene. They’d had their fun and had mutually decided they’d run their course. But still, here was, at going on two in the morning.

Sherlock was slumped in his chair. He stood as Greg came in and quickly crossed the room, taking his coat in both hands and kissing the older man desperately.

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Ended up writing bunnylock for the ao3 1 million celebration. Just smut.

A Bun in the Hand – John comes home from work and finds Sherlock ready for him.

teaser below the cut

John came home from a long day at work, looking forward to dinner, tea and maybe some telly, assuming Sherlock didn’t have him running across half of London tonight. As he pushed open the door however, he was surprised to find the detective sound asleep on the couch. Snoring softly, his long ears hanging off the end of the couch, and his tail peeking out from under his shirt.

Smiling, John went to turn the kettle on. He heard Sherlock kick at the sound of it clicking on. Yawning, the taller man wandered into the kitchen, giving John a kiss and stroking one of his floppy ears.

“Have a nice nap?” asked John, bracing himself as he opened the fridge.

Sherlock shrugged and reached past him for a carrot lying next to what was possibly a heart. John didn’t feel like looking too close. “Guess I’ll order takeaway.”

“Mrs. Hudson said she had some extra,” said Sherlock, offering him the other half of the carrot.

John took a bite and handed it back, knowing Sherlock probably hadn’t bothered to eat today. “I’ll go down and get it in a minute.”

“Aren’t you warm in that jumper?” Sherlock tugged at the hem.

John closed the fridge and gave him a knowing look. “Sherlock.”

One of Sherlock’s ears twitched as he leaned down. “I’m not wearing any pants.”

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This is possibly the geekiest fic I’ve written. I’m also tempted to make this a longer fic about Sherlock and John exploring each other’s geeky sides:

The Doctor and Mister Spock – Sherlock spots John’s secret tattoo, and John learns his lover has one just as geeky

teaser below the cut

John stepped out of the shower with a yawn. He pulled on pants and a white t-shirt , following it with a robe. There was a dire need for tea this morning. Last night had been busy and late. He smiled as he peeked into the bedroom.

Sherlock lay sprawled out, still snoring softly, face turned against John’s pillow. They’d been sleeping together about a week now, still getting used to one another’s presence in their bed and their hearts.

Closing the door gently, John went into the kitchen, turning on the kettle and starting breakfast. Sherlock shuffled out as he finished and rested his head on John’s shoulder. “Finish the tea, would you?” asked John.

Grumbling, Sherlock obeyed before coming back and wrapping his arms around John’s waist, hands landing on an exposed bit of tummy.

John jumped. “Christ, how are your hands so cold after making tea? Go on, breakfast is ready.”

Instead Sherlock kissed his neck, sliding his hands down to bracket his hips. John’s cock stirred with interest. “The eggs will get cold.” He half-heartedly tried to shrug him off.

“Damn the eggs,” grumbled Sherlock, squeezing his hips and pushing him against the counter.

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Written for the Johnlock Challenges Valentines Gift Exchange. This gift is for bubblepaints, who’s prompt was: “First _____ (fill in the blank!)”

A First Kiss – A first Valentine’s Day is an excellent time for a first kiss.

John hesitated as he climbed the stairs to the flat. It had been a busy week and while today was Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t like the detective would care about that. Besides, they’d been dancing around the growing affection for weeks. This was a cheesy day to make a move, but maybe that would just make it better.

To his surprise, the flat was relatively tidy for once. Sherlock was in the kitchen, setting the table. John briefly wondered what happened. “Sherlock?”

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