Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[cally]

I endeavour to get back to Sherlock and John very soon. I promise. I just need to go where I am going with it, without going there. Or something.

29. desperate

The afternoon passed with nothing of real interest, apart from Mycroft’s increasingly desperate and congested sneezes. Despite three rounds of Lestrade’s sinus massage, he was still feeling poorly and well, congested.

Lestrade had gotten up to fetch them some lunch, leaving Mycroft in the sitting room- reading. While he was heating up the soup and making tea he got a text.

Bored. –SH

Lestrade rolled his eyes. Before he had a chance to type in a reply, another text came in.

Need a case. Do you have a case? –SH

And then another.

Bored! –SH

By the time Lestrade typed in a reply explaining that it was his weekend off, his mobile rang: Sherlock.

“Do you not read your texts, Lestrade?” Ah, a customary greeting from Sherlock, he thought.

“I was replying, but you kept texting. Good afternoon, by the way.”

“You’re sick. No, wait, just recovering from a cold. Boring. Do you have a case? I need a case. John’s off doing the grocery shopping or on a date or something else so completely dull,” Sherlock rambled on, clearly very bored.

“Sorry, Sherlock. This is my weekend off. Try me tomorrow, eh?” While Lestrade was trying to explain this to Sherlock, Mycroft sneezed in the next room.

“Hmmm. Maybe not so boring after all, detective inspector.”

“Sherlock, what are you on about?” When there was no reply, Lestrade realised that he had been talking to dead air. He shook his head and finished putting together the lunch trays.

In the next room, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. All the text said was Bless you.

30. Insufferable

Mycroft didn’t bother to dignify the text with a reply. His brother would be insufferable, even more so than usual, the next time he saw him. He rolled his eyes and put his mobile back into his pocket.

He would have put up more of a fight, but he was really not in the mood to deal with his little brother. He also wasn’t in the mood to sneeze any more, but he really didn’t have much say in the matter.

Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish!

Mycroft had a momentary reprieve, and used it to reach for a tissue.

Ha-hah heh heh- Hehmmmpftishoo!

Mycroft was nearly bent double from the force of the fourth sneeze. He'd long given up any pretense of trying to control these ticklish sneezes. It just made his head ache more. This last sneeze, however, was apparently powerful and loud enough to bring Gregory in from the kitchen.

“Bless you! Christ Mycroft, you can’t catch a break can you? Well, maybe you just did. I just talked to Sherlock. He’s apparently climbing the walls over at Baker Street.”

“Thank you, Gregory. How very fortunate for you,” Mycroft said sarcastically.

Lestrade laughed, which made Mycroft smile despite his misery. “Do you want anything other than soup and tea?”

Mycroft shook his head. “No, thank you. Soup will be sufficient. It is not like I can taste or smell anything at this point,” he said ruefully.

[cally]

Here's a bit more allergic!John. (If I could only get this much done on my actual work.)

31. nose (continuation of eyes)

Despite the antihistamines purchased, John was still being plagued by the allergen. His nose was running, his eyes were itching, and he was sneezing constantly.

Sherlock had solved the case, and the two were back in their hotel room as their train didn’t leave for a couple of hours. Sherlock was bored; John was miserable.

itschiew! itschiew! Kistchiew! itschiew! itschiew!

He sniffled, wiped his eyes, and sighed. He hadn’t realised how exhausting having allergies was; it was giving him a different perspective on how he had treated patients and how he would in the future.

Sherlock was stretched out across the bed, engrossed in something on his mobile. “Do you mind,” he asked.

“Excuse be?” John stared at Sherlock, and wiped away allergic tears.

“You’re being annoying!” Sherlock said.

itschiew! itschiew! itschiew! itschiew!

John sneezed in response.

Sherlock sat up and stared at John, perhaps for the first time taking in his friends’ appearance and condition.

“Oh.”

itschiew! itschiew!

Sherlock, now flustered, searched his pockets and found a handkerchief, which he then passed to his blogger, who accepted it gratefully.

Ah-kishiew! Ah-hi-kitcshiew!

John sneezed violently into the proffered cloth and then carefully he blew his nose.

Sherlock, now embarrassed at his outburst, did the only thing he knew that would offer comfort to John.

“Bless you, John. Tea?”

[AngelEyes]

In the next room, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. All the text said was Bless you.

Love it! So Sherlock!

[cally]

In the next room, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. All the text said was Bless you.

Love it! So Sherlock!

I am so glad. I look forward to coming up with a way to work in the 2 of them seeing each other within this context. Perhaps Mycroft may have to pay a visit to his brother before he's fully recovered.

[AngelEyes]

Oh definitely! That would be brilliant! Bring on the snark!

[squealofapproval]

Mycroft's phone going Bless you lol. I can't even, Sherlock.

[ID2006]

So so in love with these

[Spoo]

The interaction between Sherlock and Greg amused me. And hurray! A visit to 221B. It suuuure would be terrible if Mycroft brought some cold germs over.

[tma]

In the next room, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. All the text said was Bless you.

Love it! So Sherlock!

Yes! That was completely brilliant!!

Also...

The interaction between Sherlock and Greg amused me. And hurray! A visit to 221B. It suuuure would be terrible if Mycroft brought some cold germs over.

This! ^^ It would be a .... pity...

[cally]

Oh definitely! That would be brilliant! Bring on the snark!

Will do!

Mycroft's phone going Bless you lol. I can't even, Sherlock.

Of course he recognised Mycroft's sneeze. He's Sherlock Holmes!

So so in love with these

Awww, thank you so much!

The interaction between Sherlock and Greg amused me. And hurray! A visit to 221B. It suuuure would be terrible if Mycroft brought some cold germs over.

You know, I wasn't going to go there, but given the fact I really can't take my previous sick!Sherlock drabble any further here, I think I can have Mycroft give Sherlock his cold, unintentionally, of course.

In the next room, Mycroft’s mobile buzzed. All the text said was Bless you.

Love it! So Sherlock!

Yes! That was completely brilliant!! Also...

The interaction between Sherlock and Greg amused me. And hurray! A visit to 221B. It suuuure would be terrible if Mycroft brought some cold germs over.

This! ^^ It would be a .... pity...

Thank you! And it would be a terrible, awful pity, now wouldn't it?

[cally]

(While we wait for a new story on the fanfic page . . .)

32. pleasure

Mycroft accepted the soup from Lestrade silently. He knew he needed to eat, but it was an experience he could not take any pleasure in at the moment. He listlessly stirred the soup.

Lestrade sighed quietly. He remembered this stage of the illness; the can’t breathe, tired, cranky, can’t taste anything phase. Luckily (for him at least) it was a short-lived phase, but he wasn’t sure about Mycroft.

Mycroft alternated dabbing at his nose between taking mouthfuls of soup. He didn’t want to eat, but he also wanted to no longer be ill. So he ate.

Lestrade attempted to make conversation, but he was not sure the elder Holmes was hearing him. He finally just focused on his lunch, and left Mycroft to his thoughts.

Mycroft finally put his bowl aside. He sniffed, swiped at his nose angrily and sighed. “How do people cope like this?”

Hehmmmpftish!

He somehow managed to sneeze on cue, for emphasis.

Lestrade chuckled. “Bless you, love. You know how “people” cope with this? By having someone to take care of them, and by letting themselves be taken care of.” He put his own bowl down and put an arm around Mycroft.

33. outburst

Mycroft relaxed into Gregory’s arms and tried to relax and get comfortable. He wasn’t good at expressing himself – but figured he would make an attempt.

“Gregory, apologies for my outburst. I’m not ill frequently.”

Gregory laughed. “I bet that’s the understatement of the year.”

“I’m also not used to being around anyone while ill. I usually take just enough cold medicine to function and carry on working.” Mycroft reached for a tissue and wiped his nose.

Gregory thought about that statement and how lonely that sounded. He may not have a lot of friends, but he always had someone he could call on when he was really sick.

He felt Mycroft stiffen in his arms and heard his breath start hitching, so he reached over for the tissues. He handed him a handful just in time.

Ha-hah heh heh- Hehmmmpftishoo! Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish!

“God bless you, Mycroft!” Gregory gave him a reassuring smile, and wiped away the dampness from the corner of Mycroft’s eye that had gathered by the desperateness of his sneezes.

“Thank you, Gregory. Ap…” Lestrade put his finger to Mycroft’s lips, smiling. “No apologising.”

“Very well,” Mycroft replied and reached for the tissue box again. He blew his nose and settled back on the couch.

[cally]

If someone wouldn't mind deleting the first drabble in the post above this. I clearly haven't learned to use cut and paste at my age. :/ (Nor can I figure out how to edit posts (or if I can))

[Spoo]

Lestrade chuckled. “Bless you, love. You know how “people” cope with this? By having someone to take care of them, and by letting themselves be taken care of.”

That's right! You tell 'im, Greg.

“Thank you, Gregory. Ap…” Lestrade put his finger to Mycroft’s lips, smiling. “No apologising.”

Awwwwwwww.

[cally]

Lestrade chuckled. “Bless you, love. You know how “people” cope with this? By having someone to take care of them, and by letting themselves be taken care of.”

That's right! You tell 'im, Greg.

“Thank you, Gregory. Ap…” Lestrade put his finger to Mycroft’s lips, smiling. “No apologising.”

Awwwwwwww.

Awwww thank you. Gregory will break down those walls, dammit! (And thanks for the edit!)

[cally]

34. better

Mycroft was close to dozing off, when the sound of Lestrade sneezing made him more alert.

Huhhrahhhshhhooo!!

“Shit, sorry love. You were so close to sleeping too.”

Mycroft cleared his throat. “God bless you, Gregory,” he said sleepily.

Lestrade smiled. “Thank you. Make yourself more comfortable and I can rub your head again. It’s the least I can do for waking you.”

Mycroft repositioned his body so that he was more comfortable and rested his head in Gregory’s lap.

Gregory repeated his ministrations; rubbing Mycroft’s temples and sinuses gently. Mycroft smiled into the touch, letting out soft moans of pleasure from Gregory’s skillful fingers. “You are aware Gregory, that this will probably end the same way as the last time.”

“Hmmmmm?”

“Perhaps this time I will sneeze out the rest of this and can get back to work.”

Lestrade laughed a deep, throaty laugh, just slightly lower from his normal tone. Must have been how Sherlock picked up on him being sick, from his voice, he thought. “I don’t think that’s how getting better works, love.”

35. eternity

Mycroft stayed with his head in Gregory’s lap for as long as he could, enjoying the touch. He mentally held off sneezing for as long as he could; an outcome that they both knew was inevitable.

Mycroft sat up quickly and succumbed to the unavoidable paroxysms before he had a chance to grab a tissue or anything. He was once again bent nearly double from the force, desperate.

Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish!

Lestrade handed him a clean handkerchief; he could sense that Mycroft was still fighting off sneezing.

Mycroft shook his head at Lestrade, causing Lestrade to look back at him in confusion. Mycroft wanted to speak but his breath was hitching wildly and desperately. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he sneezed.

Hahhh-ahhh-heh-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftcchhhoo! Hehmmmpftish!

“God bless you, bless you, and bless you again!” “Are you all right, love?”

Mycroft blew his nose, freeing as much trapped congestion as possible and nodded. When he was done he explained: “Thank you Gregory. I was wasn’t fighting off sneezing, I was simply unable to sneeze.”

He looked at the handkerchief with disgust and put it to the side, reached for the tissues and blew his nose again.

Lestrade smiled. “I am sorry for giving you this rotten cold.”

“I am quite sure you will be able to make it up to me, Gregory. In the meantime, a cup of tea would suffice,” Mycroft said with a smile in return.

[Spoo]

I do so love Mycroft's fits. They're wonderful. All that control and refined manners, and he's still at the mercy of his sneezes. I've also really loved the progression of the cold as well, and how you've developed it. Seeing it get worse and worse (and sneezier and sneezier) has been a [sadistic?] treat.

[cally]

I do so love Mycroft's fits. They're wonderful. All that control and refined manners, and he's still at the mercy of his sneezes. I've also really loved the progression of the cold as well, and how you've developed it. Seeing it get worse and worse (and sneezier and sneezier) has been a [sadistic?] treat.

Thank you once again! You're too kind. Mycroft's so at the mercy of his poor, tender nose right now. Sadly for us, he will have to start getting better soon. Then I will have to think of a way to torture them both again. (I will have to give one of them seasonal allergies, and one . . . .hmmmmmm?).

I will have fun giving this cold to Sherlock and John though.

[cally]

Because I just stood out in the cold freezing my tits off waiting for my flatmate to get takeaway . . .

36. jacket

John was cold. No strike that, he was freezing. He had been standing outside for more than an hour while Sherlock did whatever it was Sherlock did when he was on a case. In this situation, he honestly had no idea what Sherlock was doing and whenever he tried to ask, he was brushed off or ignored.

John was ready to tell Sherlock to piss off and head back to Baker Street. He was shivering, he couldn’t feel his toes or his fingers and his nose was running. He wanted a cup of tea and his bed.

Moments later, Sherlock strode over, collar up, looking warm. He had an excited look on his face, eager to share his findings with his blogger.

This precisely was the same moment that John sneezed violently.

Hi-etchhhhuh!

“Really John, do you mind?”

John sniffed and turned to look at Sherlock, while simultaneously searching his pockets for a tissue. Of course, none. He pressed his jacket cuff to his nose for a moment and gave Sherlock a hard stare.

“Seriously, Sherlock? I’ve been standing out here for over an hour freezing my arse off for God knows what, and you have the fucking audacity to snap at me?”

Hi-etchhhhuh! Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

John turned away and sneezed into his cupped hands, nearly toppling over from the force. In fact, he very nearly would have had Sherlock not grabbed him by the shoulders.

John sniffled wetly and sighed. And then long, nimble fingers were pressing a soft cloth into his hands that were still cupped around his nose. John nodded his thanks and blew his nose.

Sherlock stared awkwardly at the ground, hands in his coat pockets. “Bless you,” he said quietly. “I apologise John. I didn’t think . . .” his voice trailed off.

John shivered and sniffled. “Thanks. Are we done here?”

Sherlock nodded.

“Good. Let’s go. You’re making the tea.”

[ID2006]

*whimpers* Sleepy blessing from Mycroft. And oh how I love contagion fics.

[VoOs]

I will have fun giving this cold to Sherlock and John though

We will have fun reading abot it, I'm sure.

[Spoo]

“Seriously, Sherlock? I’ve been standing out here for over an hour freezing my arse off for God knows what, and you have the fucking audacity to snap at me?”

Ahhh, c'est la vie~ Or I guess c'est la Sherlock (even though I realize 'la' is feminine and Sherlock is masculine bUT OH WELLL ). Count me in on the excitement for the Johnlock cold!

[squealofapproval]

I indeed love this thread.

[cally]

I will have fun giving this cold to Sherlock and John though

We will have fun reading abot it, I'm sure.

I hope so.

“Seriously, Sherlock? I’ve been standing out here for over an hour freezing my arse off for God knows what, and you have the fucking audacity to snap at me?”

Ahhh, c'est la vie~ Or I guess c'est la Sherlock (even though I realize 'la' is feminine and Sherlock is masculine bUT OH WELLL ). Count me in on the excitement for the Johnlock cold!

Well, Sherlock is a girl's name.

I indeed love this thread.

Awwww thank you!

[cally]

37. tomorrow

The remainder of Sunday passed quietly. Mycroft napped. Gregory made dinner. Throughout the remainder of the day Mycroft seemed to steadily get better. Or as Gregory thought, willed himself to get better.

As they were getting ready for bed Mycroft could no longer restrain the urge to sneeze.

Hehmmmpftishoo!

“God bless you, love.” Lestrade smiled at Mycroft and handed him a tissue.

“Thank you, Gregory.”

“You seem to be feeling better. I suppose I will have to take back my insistence that you take tomorrow off since I know you’ll just have Anthea on the phone the second I leave.”

Mycroft sniffed. “You know me too well,” he said with a smile.

38. conversation

Monday morning and Sherlock is reading the newspaper from the comfort of his chair. The pleasant sounds of tea and toast making are coming from the kitchen. A different sound came from the front hall and Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed.

A moment later Mycroft entered the flat swinging his umbrella.

“Good morning Sherlock. I see the flat is still standing. I heard you were climbing the walls yesterday and thought I would make sure everything was in order.”

Sherlock lowered the newspaper a fraction and glared.

“Did you now?" Sherlock replied, coldly.

The two continued to have a conversation with out any words, until finally Sherlock broke the silence. “Oh get on with it, would you? I’ve things to do.”

John hearing this from the kitchen, laughed, knowing full well neither of them had anything on besides tea and toast and the moment.

39. robot

Mycroft glared at Sherlock, which quickly turned into a sneeze.

Mmmmpfch!

“Bless you!” John said as he came in from the kitchen with Sherlock’s tea.

He put the tea next to Sherlock, and studied Mycroft. “Well, I guess I now know you aren’t a robot.”

Sherlock sniggered. Mycroft raised an eyebrow in John’s direction. He then quickly turned away again, reaching for his handkerchief, the tickle reappearing.

Mmmmpfch! Mmmmpfch! Mmmmpfch!

“Oh. Apologies.”

“Bless you,” John and Sherlock said in unison.

“Thank you,” Mycroft said with a sniff.

John crossed the room, and stood in front of and studied Mycroft. It was clear the elder Holmes was ill. He looked tired and the circles under his eyes were dark and pronounced. The tip of his nose was tinged with pink. To anyone else it might have not been apparent, but John was a doctor and best friends with Sherlock Holmes.

40. fingers

Before Mycroft had a chance to react, John pressed his index and middle fingers into Mycroft’s forehead.

“Ouch!” Mycroft flinched.

From his chair, Sherlock laughed.

“Shut up Sherlock,” John said.

“You’re obviously sick, Mycroft,” John said.

“Yes, John, I am aware of that fact. I am feeling significantly recovered, thank you.”

“Bored!” Sherlock shouted from his chair, standing up and then flinging himself back in it, legs akimbo.

“Shut up Sherlock,” both Mycroft and John said.

“Someone doesn’t like to not be the centre of attention,” said John.

Mycroft smiled. “Indeed. So, doctor?”

“Your sinuses are inflamed,” John said. “It’s not an infection, yet, but if the pain gets worse, or you spike a fever, let me know and I can write you a prescription.”

“Thank you, John,” Mycroft said.

“Well, I will leave you both to it. Good day, Sherlock. John.” Swinging his umbrella again, he exited the flat.

[ID2006]

I too love Mycroft and his polite sneezes, and John blessing him. I'm such a sucker for blessings. And of course Sherlock not being the center of attention cracks me up. Now he may have to get sick just to get some attention. *evil grin