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Matilda's Drabble Thread II (Sherlock)


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Hi all, I'm asking people to submit prompts for my drabble thread (currently I have 25/100 so there's plenty left). Feel free to give me five or ten words that you'd like me to use as prompts and I'll add them to my list. I'm posting three tonight and they're all Criminal Minds, but I'm sure I'll work with Sherlock, some Doctor Who, and whatever other fandom strikes my fancy heh.gif

Thanks to Kendaahhll, cakeface33, MoonDuck, and DaylightStarr for giving me prompts. smile.png

#14 Read

He was trying so hard to read his novel and relax on the plane ride home, but the words refused to hold still. Spencer sighed and closed the book, rubbing his forehead. He felt someone sit down in the seat across from him and wished he could just keep his eyes closed. Reid blinked and the concerned face of his boss came into focus.

“Headache?” Hotch asked quietly. Spencer nodded.

“But not one those kinds of headaches. Just a normal one.” He sniffed twice before turning towards the window and pinched his nose. HehhNTKss! NGXsch! “Scuse me.”

“Bless you.” Reid nodded his thanks and yawned.

“Get some rest.”

#1 Help

“Whenever you’re ready to admit you need some help, I’m right here,” Garcia said.

“Baby Girl, I said I’m fiihhEHH HehhHahhhhTSSSCHOOOO!” Morgan doubled over with a huge sneeze. He bit back a groan as he felt his right shoulder twinge again. He’d dislocated it on their last case and had it in a sling. To add insult to injury, he’d come down with a cold and Hotch had forced him to take a couple day’s medical leave. He also sent Garcia to look after the stubborn alpha male and give him a hand until he was able to use his dominant hand again. Hehh AHH HehhAHHHNTSSCHHHOOOO! HaahhRAHHHSSSCHHOOO!!

“Bless you my love!” Garcia said from her end of the sofa. Her only answer was a relentless stream of wet sniffles. A moment later, a mangled, half-opened box of tissues appeared in front of her face.

“Garcia? I deed sobe help.”

She quickly ripped the top off the new box of Kleenex and handed several to the sniffling man in front of her. “Thought you’d never ask.”

#20 Fuzzy

“Garcia, do you have a moment to—” Hotch stopped the moment his tech analyst turned around in her chair. She was, for lack of a better term, fluffy. A thick rainbow scarf was knotted around her throat, a pink angora sweater draped over her shoulder, and her feet were tucked into the fuzziest, sparkly slippers he’d ever seen. Even by Garcia standard it was a lot.

“What can I do for you, Boss Man?”

“I want to review our quarterly numbers, but first, what’s with all the…” he gestured at her fuzzy slippers.

“Oh! Sorry sir!” She spun her chair around and slipped her feet back into her high heels. He frowned when he saw her shiver. Actually, now that he’d sat down across from her, he noticed she looked a little pale with a high flush across her cheeks.

“Penelope, are you feeling alright?” he asked.

“Right as rain.” He raised an eyebrow but she just smiled and reached for the file folder he’d brought. She started typing the case numbers into her computer when she felt her nose tickle. She tried holding her breath but it was no use. AhhTSSHHeew! Tsschheew! Ktsschheew!

“Bless you,” Hotch said. He handed her his handkerchief.

“Thank you, sir,” she sniffed. He reached over and felt her forehead.

“You need to go home. You’re running a fever.”

“I’m fine.”

“Penelope, you’re sick. These reports can wait. Stay here and I’ll go get Morgan to drive you home.” She shivered violently and nodded.

“Put those slippers back on and keep warm.”

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Ooh, ooh! Yay! Okay, uhm, prompt ideas:

  • Cold
  • Lonely
  • Breakfast
  • Suspicious
  • Routine
  • Rain
  • Late
  • Elevator

I would LOVE to see some Sherlock. There's already tons of lovely fics on here, of course, but I don't think there's any such thing as too much Sherlock (:

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Ah, I love your drabbles and so excited that you will add some Sherlock in as well! I'll help you add to your list:

  • Holiday
  • Adventure
  • Babysitting
  • Restaurant
  • Family

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These are so great, it reminds me that I have to keep working on my own.

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Ooh, these are lovely! I'm not familiar with the fandom, but your writing style is great! And I'm looking forward to some Sherlock drabbles as well ;)

For prompts, how about these:

  • Sun
  • Pinch
  • Drowsy
  • Train
  • Market
  • Lovely

Hope to read more of your stuff soon :)

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Thanks all!!! :) I'll add the new words to my list. Now I'm up to 44. Here's a couple Sherlock's. One is actually drabble length. The other is about 7x too long. Oh well.

#4 Done

HahhSHHoo! Watson sneezed into his elbow.

“Excuse me,” he said. Sherlock didn’t look up from his phone. Watson got up and looked over his shoulder. “What are you looking for?” he asked as he watched the detective scroll through page after page of weather reports. Sherlock remained silent and Watson turned around as he felt the urge to sneeze once again. Hahh AhhSSCHHHoo! He didn’t even bother saying “excuse me” this time because he was certain Sherlock didn’t care. “Sherlock? What are you looking for?” Again no response. “You know, I could help you if you just told me what you were—”

“I will tell you what I’m looking for but I do not care for being interrupted and you are not done sneezing.”

“Done sneezing? What are you talking about?”

“You’re catching a cold and when you’re getting ill you always sneeze in a series of five. When you’re finished with this set, I will explain what we’re doing for this case.”

“Sherlock, I’m a doctor. I would know if I was getting sick.”

“Clearly you're wrong.” Watson resisted the urge to curse as he felt the telltale prickle of another sneeze. He pinched his nose and silently stifled it. “That’s three,” Sherlock said. Watson wasn’t sure what annoyed him more—that Sherlock was right or that he was, in all likelihood, catching a cold.

Hahh Ahh…

“Oh do get on with it, John. We have work to do.”

AhhTSSCHHooo! Sherlock looked at him with a mix of annoyance and eagerness. John blinked twice before sneezing forcefully into his hands.


“Excellent, now I’ve been researching…”

#16 Rope

Sherlock assessed what he knew: He was still in his flat. He’d been hit in the head and blacked out for no more than three minutes. He was blindfolded with black silk—though he couldn’t rule out dark purple and he was tied to one of his own dining room chairs. Tightly. With no means of escape possible.

“Oh, you know I do so love a man when he’s bound and blindfolded,” came a sultry, feminine voice from across the room. Of course—that woman. “But I’m in a bit of rush, so we’ll have to skip some of the foreplay.” The blindfold was pulled away from his eyes (black) revealing Irene Adler—all black dress and red lips. “But don’t worry…we won’t skip all of it,” she whispered into Sherlock’s ear, nipping his earlobe. He caught a whiff of her perfume and immediately held his breath. She was wearing Hermes 24, a scent he was violently allergic to. At £900 per ounce, he didn’t run into many women who wore it, but the effect was almost instant.

“Why don’t you just—” he paused to sniffle. “Tell me what you want so we can expedite this little game.”

“I want that diamond. You know, the one you switched with a fake at the museum yesterday when you were investigating their jewel theft.”

“Which was you naturally,” he said.


“Sorry to disappoint you, Irene, but I don’t have it,” he said. The corners of her mouth drew up in a wicked smile and she began studying his face for a clue about whether or not he was lying. For his part, Sherlock was doing everything possible not to sneeze. His nose was on fire, eyes irritated, and he could feel his chest straining against the ropes as he took a deep, shuddering pre-sneeze breath. Hehh…Ehhh… HehhKTschh! Ktsschh! Tssshhhoo! He turned his head and sneezed. She laughed.

“Bless you. Not catching a cold are you?” How he wished he had one hand free—whether to rub his inflamed nose or strangle Irene Adler, he wasn’t sure. “Poor thing. Since you’re otherwise occupied…” She pulled a lace handkerchief from her purse and dabbed his nose, then his eyes. Sherlock twisted his head away from her.

“No. Stohehh EHH…stop it…” HehhKTSSH! HehhTSSCHHoo! He saw the moment she made the connection, a devilish grin spreading across her face. She took a small bottle of perfume out of her purse and spritzed it on her neck and wrists. Sherlock immediately felt the sneezes begin to build again, his body held fast by the ropes. Hehh EHH…HEhhuhh…

“Aww…what’s wrong?” Adler asked, standing several feet away from the bound detective.

“You know daahhh AHH…damn well what’s wrong.” Allergic tears threatened to overflow his eyes and his slim nose was flaring widely. Irene took a couple steps towards him and watched the reaction intensify. Sherlock struggled to keep his eyes open, his breath coming in rapid gasps. Just when it seemed like he was on the verge of sneezing, she retreated to the other side of the room, leaving the detective a sniffling, allergic mess.

“Mmm…now this is my kind of game,” she purred. “Who knew Sherlock Holmes had such a sensitive, ticklish nose?” She moved closer and smiled as she watched him struggle—his nose flaring uncontrollably, eyes watering, and a near constant sniffle. “Poor dear.”

“I huhh…Hehh don’t have the diamond,” he said.

“Oh I believe you,” Irene said. “But I think I know where you stashed it.” Sherlock couldn’t even reply. He was so agonizingly close to sneezing but Adler remained just far enough away that the allergen couldn’t quite push him over the edge. For her part, she adored watching him struggle and squirm and fight against something as simple as perfume. Restrained, powerless, and at her mercy—could there be anything better? “Well, sadly I have to get going. Places to go, diamonds to steal,” she said, slipping into her coat. She turned around and heard Sherlock give a watery sniffle. “But I’d never leave you…unsatisfied,” she said with a wink. She leaned down and kissed the bridge of his nose and then his lips. Finally, she brought her neck close to his nose as she whispered in his ear. “Until next time dear.” She’d barely made it to the stairs before she heard a fit of itchy, allergic sneezes. Huhh Ehhn HehhKTSSCHH! Ktsschh! TSSCHHH! Ktssschhooo! KTSSSHHH! TSSCHHooo!

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Oh HOT DAMN. drool.gif I can't even tell which one I like better.

Counting sneezes is totally my kink, and I just love how Sherlock has figured out the pattern and knows John is getting sick before John does.

And the second one is ridiculously hot with Irene teasing Sherlock. A fic like this with Irene is not something I've read before, but you make it work somehow! That drabble captured the feel of Irene/Sherlock perfectly, and your writing style is to die for. More? wubsmiley.gif

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Oh Matilda, you write Sherlock so well! I absolutely loved both of them, but can I just say that Watson is just so adorable, so I think Done was my favorite out of both of them. I did love Rope, especially since Irene is one of my favorite characters and you added an allergic Sherlock to the mix. The sneezes were so well spelled out as well! They were both very well done and I'm excited for whatever you have next :D

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Thank you all for your kind feedback and prompts (which I'm still accepting). I've got a few more. The first is Sherlock and the other two are Criminal Minds.

#19 Pattern

They got out the taxi at the abandoned warehouse where the body had been found. Sherlock squatted down and assessed the body, making assessments as he went. When he stood, he handed pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to John.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“You’re about to have an allergy attack,” Sherlock said, studying the various methods of entry the killer might have used.

“I feel fine.”

“You won’t in five minutes.” He examined some residue on the floor. “Maybe four.”


“Your immune system has a standard response time to sawdust and this place is coated in a fine film of it. Probably used in their manufacturing process. You begin to approximately five to seven minutes after exposure.” When John just stared at him dumbfounded, Sherlock added, “Really John, it’s such a pedestrian pattern. I’m surprised you haven’t noticed it yourself.”

Damn him, John thought three minutes later when his nose began to tingle exactly on schedule. Hahh Ahh…HuhhAhhhTSSCHHOOOO! HahhKTSSCHHOOOO! HahhAHHHTSSSHHCHHHOOO!

#15 Socks

He hadn’t work mismatched socks in years, but when Spencer Reid sat down at his desk, Morgan caught sight of two completely different socks poking out from underneath his pants.

“You busting out vintage Reid?” he asked. When Spencer gave him a confused glance, Morgan nodded towards his feet. “Your socks are mismatched, Pretty Boy. Haven’t seen you do that in a while.”

“I didn’t notice,” Reid mumbled.

“You alright today?” Morgan asked. Spencer shrugged.

“Tired I guess.”

“You know you can talk to me about anything right?” Morgan said. “Nobody expects you to—”


“Bless you.”

EhhNXTchhh! “Thag you.”

“Could have just said you were sick.”

#13 Space

The team was trying to give him his space, knowing that he dealt with emotional issues privately. Any case that involved children got to him, but this one was particularly bad. Combined that with the cold he’d been suffering from for the last three days and Aaron Hotchner was officially not to be messed with. AhhNTSCHHew! JJ and Rossi glanced up to see him catch another sneeze in his handkerchief. Hotch sneezed a second time Hah AhhTSSCHHew! and then got right back to work reviewing possible suspects.

“He needs to be in bed,” JJ said quietly.

“You going to suggest it?” Rossi asked.

“Are you kidding? After the way he nearly took Morgan’s head off for suggesting he take a nap in the break room? No thank you,” she said.

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Sherlock... and Criminal Minds... and Sherlock .... oh I love John, I wish Sherlock was more into caretaking, but in character I know it's unlikely. Still, I love you, and these, and yeah.... love

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Thanks!! :) So much good Sherlock on the Forum lately, has me inspired. Three different drabbles, three different sneezy characters ;)

#54 Stupid

Detective Inspector Lestrade felt horrendous. He had a miserable cold and wanted nothing more than to be tucked into bed with a box of tissues and something warm to drink. As it happened, murderers didn’t coordinate their schedules with his immune system, so he was standing at a bizarre crime scene in the chilly morning fog. Sherlock and John came onto the scene a few moments later and, truthfully, Lestrade couldn’t be happier. The sooner the case was solved, the sooner he could go home.

John stood back and let Sherlock assess the body and all the relevant environmental factors. He rattled off observations and theories as he moved in a circle around the corpse. John and Greg knew enough not to interrupt at this stage. After touching, smelling, and occasionally tasting various clues, Sherlock stood.

“Ex-wife. Poisoned at home with powdered oleander. Dumped here. You,” he pointed at Lestrade, “are incredibly stupid.”

“How was I supposed to know powdered oleander?” Greg asked.

“No. You’re ill and have likely added another three days to your recovery by being out in this weather. John, do make sure he doesn’t have pneumonia and meet me in the car.”

“Is he right?” John asked, turning to the Detective Inspector.

“Just a cold, doctor. Been fighting it for…for…” He held up a finger as he paused to pull a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket. HuhhRAHHHSHHHooo! HuhhRAHHHSCHHHOOO!

“Bless you,” John said. “Well, I wouldn’t go as far as to call you stupid, but you really should be in bed. Tell your boss it’s doctor’s orders.”

“I’ll do that. Thanks, John.”

#9 Wiggle

He’d seen her do it once before—years ago and it was…memorable. Other people might use the word “endearing” but that was not in Sherlock’s vocabulary, so he settled on “memorable.” She didn’t even know she was doing it—wiggling her nose as she worked. By tonight the symptoms of her oncoming cold would become pronounced. Perhaps earlier, he thought as he watched Molly wiggle her nose against her wrist. Ahhnkts!! She stifled a sneeze into her elbow.

“You need to request tomorrow off, Molly,” he said without taking his eyes away from the microscope.

“Why? Do you need me to do something?” she asked.

“No. You’re coming down with a cold. You’ll be feeling too poorly to work for a few days.”

“You’re sure?” This time he did look up from his work and glared. She blushed. “Right. Of course you’re sure. I’ll email my boss right now.” She took her latex gloves off and went over to her computer. Sherlock watched her type out a quick leave request and then close her eyes for a second before sneezing. Ahhtschhew! Ktschhew!

“Bless you,” Sherlock said, putting his handkerchief on her desk.

“Thank you,” she sniffed before giving her nose that memorable little wiggle.

“Feel better, Molly,” he said, snapping the collar of his coat up and striding out of the morgue.

#28 Breakfast

John rolled over and groaned. He felt absolutely dreadful, the cold he'd been fighting for the last few days had finally taken hold of him. His head was completely clogged with congestion causing a throbbing pain between his eyes and leaving him unable to get any air through his nose. Plus, any time he attempted it, he was rewarded with a pair of nasty, thick sneezes. HehhSSSNGDsshhhoooo! AhhSNGSSHHHOOOO! He scrambled for the tissues as he heard his bedroom door open.

"You sound disgusting," Sherlock said.

"Not the time."

Sherlock came into the room and put a plate of toast and a cup of tea down on John's bedside table.

"What's that?" he asked.

"You have a fever," Sherlock said without ever touching John.

"Did you make me breakfast? You never make breakfast."

"That's because I don't eat it," Sherlock said. He narrowed his eyes, looking John over. "When you're done go back to sleep," he said, turning and leaving the room.

"Right. Thanks," John said to himself.

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Awww, the Molly one! :wub: :wub: :wub: Absolutely adorable. I love her so much. :cryhappy:

Thankyouforsharing. <3

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Add me to the list of folks who love these too much to pick a favorite! Do I go with Lestrade (hilariously!caring!Sherlock)? Molly (calmly!noticing!Sherlock)? John (adorably!awkward!Sherlock)? Or all three?! Plus, your spelling are just phenomenal.

More, please?

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Thank you so much! :) I'm overdosing on Sherlock this week...and it's sooo good. A couple Molly allergy drabbles tonight.

#41 Drowsy

“Have you always had hayfever?” Sherlock asked as Molly walked into the morgue.


“Your eyes are watery, nose red and irritated, you clearly look on the verge of sneezing, and you have a pack of tissues in your lab coat. Given today’s pollen count, the most likely explanation is that you have hay fever.” He picked up a new microscope slide.

“Uh, yes. I developed allergies a few years ago. They seem to get worse every year.”

“Often happens as women move into their thirties,” he said. Molly frowned and rubbed her nose. She took a couple steps away from Sherlock and broke into a rapid fit of sneezes.

AhhTsschoo! Ktschoo! Ahhtsschh! KTsschhh! AhhtsschhOO!

“That’s going to get annoying,” Sherlock said. “You have John write you a prescription for an antihistamine.”

“I’ve taken a prescription antihistamine. I’ve tried them all. Nothing works,” Molly said.

“You should take a double dose.”

Ahhtsschh! Ktsschh! AhhKSSHHOO! KTSSCHHHOO!

“Or a triple dose,” Sherlock said.

“If a normal dose makes me this drowsy, a double will make me pass out,” Molly said sniffling into a handful of tissues.

“But you’d be quiet.” He saw the hurt flash in her eyes and sighed. You’re not talking to John, he reminded himself. “My apologies, Molly. You should take another allergy pill though. I’ll get you a cup of coffee—the caffeine might balance it out.”

#39 Sun

Sherlock squinted as he stepped out into sun. It had been unseasonably warm for several days. If Sherlock was the type of person who cared about the weather, he might have classified it as “nice.”

After a quick stop at the chemist’s, he strolled into the St. Bart’s morgue and was not the least bit surprised by the sound that greeted him.

Ahhtsschh! Ktsschh! TSSCHH! Ahhtschhooo!

“Morning, Molly. Beautiful day, isn’t it? Only thing that would make it better would be an oddly mutilated body—something decapitated would be lovely, but I’ll settle for any inexplicable poisoning, dismemberment, or—”


“That reminds me.” Sherlock came over to where Molly’s desk. Her nose was red, eyes bloodshot and swollen. Sherlock opened the bag he’d brought and put a fresh box of tissues on the table next to her. He followed that with a bottle of eye drops and some throat lozenges.

“You got this stuff for me?” she sniffled, her nose already beginning to itch again.

“Higher than average temperatures, combined with sunshine, and low humidity has led to highly elevated pollen levels.”

“Thaahh Ahh…thank you, Sherlock.” AhhTSCHH! Ktsshoo! Ahhtssschh! KTSSCHHoo!

“Bless you, Molly. Now, tell me you have a corpse here that’s missing a head.”

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I also suddenly have a thing for Molly with hay fever! So lovely :) I think it really suits her character, actually :P

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OMG hay fever afflicted Molly is too cute! Love it! At least Sherlock ended up being quite nice (for him) to her. I wouldn't have blamed her for giving him a rubbishly sneezy cold somehow and say his sneezing is annoying.

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I also suddenly have a thing for Molly with hay fever! So lovely smile.png I think it really suits her character, actually tonguesmiley.gif

Thanks!! I'm so glad you guys like the Molly drabbles! I do think hay fever seems perfect for her.

Just a couple tonight. PS: I haven't forgotten about Criminal Minds (and I thought I'd get around to some Doctor Who at some point), just on a Sherlock kick right now.

#53 Pebble

Hehh…Ehh HEHH! Sherlock’s hands were poised just in front of his nose. His eyes were shut tight and his chest hitched. He sniffed several times, but didn’t lower his hands. Hehh Hihh…Ehh HehhAHH!

“This is absurd!” he snapped, rubbing his nose violently. John chuckled.

“Still can’t tease it out, huh?”

“No and it’s Hehh…hihh it’s Ehh…driving me Hehh AHH…mad!” John smirked as he watched his friend fight with the tickle that had been plaguing his nose for nearly twenty minutes. Every time it seemed Sherlock was finally going to sneeze, the irritation died down as suddenly as it had started. The result was a very annoyed, prickly detective. Like the countless times before, just as he took a gasping pre-sneeze breath, Sherlock froze, and let out a defeated, angry sigh. “It’s like having a damned pebble in your shoe. You’re a doctor, can’t you do something?”

“Like what, exactly?”

Ahh…anyEHHH..anything…Hehh” Sherlock managed. Despite the fun he was having, John decided to have mercy on his friend. He went into the kitchen and retrieved a flashlight.

“Close your eyes, count to ten, and then open them,” he said.

“One. Two. Thr—”

“You know I didn’t mean aloud.”

The moment Sherlock opened his eyes, John shined the bright light in his face. The effect was almost instant, giving Sherlock just enough time to turn his head.

HehhIHHHktschh! HuhhKTSSCHHoo!

“Bless you,” John said.

“Idiot!” he spat.

“You asked me to help!”

“Not you—me. Should have thought about triggering a photic reflex fifteen minutes ago.”

#12 Electric

HuhhRAHHHsschhooo!! HahhSSSCHHOOOO!!

“Honestly, John, again?”

“It’s not like I can hehh Huhh…help it,” he managed before bringing a well-used handkerchief back up to his red nose. HuhhAAAHRSSCHHOOO!! Sherlock sighed. “I told you, I have a cold,” John said.

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Sherlock asked, thumbing through text messages on his phone.

“I would if you’d let me turn the heat up,” John said. “It’s ten degrees warmer down here.” Sherlock didn’t respond and John settled back into the sofa, drawing his blanket back up around his shoulders. He took Sherlock’s silence as consent. Despite the blanket, John shivered and sniffled wetly.

“I’m going out,” Sherlock announced, standing and grabbing his long coat. He was barely out the door before John turned the heat up and laid back down.

He was hot. That was woke John up from a sound sleep—he was so hot. That was odd. Since getting sick, he’d constantly been chilled. He sat up slowly, wincing as he felt the congestion in his sinuses shift. When John looked down he was surprised to see he was covered with an electric blanket. Sherlock sat in his chair reading a medical journal.



“Did you get me this blanket?”


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Love the photic response. Love how Sherlock is both annoyed and concerned with John's cold. Love all the Sherlock drabbles, is what I am saying here. :)

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