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  1. Tags
    Summary

    If ever a people deserved tasering, it’s Holmeses.

    Series
    Language:
    English
    Words:
    118,090
    Chapters:
    12/12
    Comments:
    1449
    Kudos:
    9170
    Bookmarks:
    3412
    Hits:
    274818
  2. 19 Jun 2021

    Rec

    Bookmark Notes:

    Did I expect to weep all over this? No. But you bet I sure did.

    Also George/Anthea is the hidden gem in this.

    Sad my girl Molly had such little screen time tho.

  3. 19 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  4. 18 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  5. 13 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  6. 12 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

    Bookmark Notes:

    Fem!Lastrade retelling of S1&2 with Mystrade. Fun Lastrade and Sherlock dynamic

  7. 12 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  8. 11 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

    Bookmark Notes:

    Wow. A novel for all intents and purposes.
    Brilliant.
    I love the strong female character who isn't made into being a Mary Sue

  9. 05 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  10. 04 Jun 2021

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  11. 03 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  12. 03 Jun 2021

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  13. 02 Jun 2021

    Public Bookmark

  14. 31 May 2021

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  15. 30 May 2021

    Public Bookmark

  16. 29 May 2021

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  17. 28 May 2021

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  18. 27 May 2021

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  19. 26 May 2021

    Public Bookmark

  20. 21 May 2021

    Public Bookmark

  21. 19 May 2021

    Rec

    Bookmark Tags:
    Bookmark Notes:

    "I think I will stab you with a scalpel if you don’t pretend to be normal this once and treat her with the utmost respect and gentleness," George had snarled.

    He’d only stared at her, interested, for a moment, and said, "Noted."

    The medical examiners had already gone over Mary Power, combed her for evidence and taken samples, but Sherlock had done it all over again, with quick fingers and professional detachment while George had stood at Mary’s feet and fretted. She had been thinking about the brutal, ugly perimortem bruising they’d found, the darkening handprints around her fragile neck, the way she was putting Mary through an exam again so they could find a mother who would probably rather be dead once she learned her daughter's fate.

    And then Sherlock had done something extraordinary and wholly unexpected: he’d started humming.

    "What the fuck is that?" George had asked flatly.

    "Flight of the Bumblebee," Sherlock had told her — distracted, checking Mary’s face now, peering at her eyebrows through his tiny magnifying glass.

    "I — what?" she’d asked, ready to throw him out of the room and pepperspray him in the hallway for added effect, and then he’d come back with:

    "She has calluses on her fingers from a stringed instrument, but they aren’t set or thick enough for her to be a longtime player. New then, and there’s not a matching mark under her chin for a violin or viola, and it’s unlikely a little girl would play the bass — so, cello," Sherlock had told her. "Every child learning a new instrument has that song, a composer, that one that’s a touch beyond their capability only for speed and not dexterity. Mine was Mendelssohn, of course — "

    "Of course yours was Mendelssohn," George had said, feeling stunned.

    " — but I suspect something more pedestrian for Miss Power, and — " he had indicated the inside of her wrist, the fading transfer tattoo of a cheerful bee, YEAH!!! written around him in dark blue biro " — I think Flight of the Bumblebee is as good a deduction as any."

    So she’d spent the afternoon in the morgue with Sherlock and Mary and he’d hummed classical music as the moments had passed, and the only reason for it George had ever been able to guess at was simple kindness, something good at the core he couldn’t ignore even though he wanted to.

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