Cally's Sherlock drabble thread #1 442/442

[ID2006]

There shall never be enough sick John and Sherlock in the world. Is it wrong for me to be so giddy at the thought of Sherlock feeling really awful and seeking comfort from John?

[AngelEyes]

Who the hell is Gregory? Really Sherlock. Pay attention. I love this all!

[cally]

Aww...John taking a look at Anthea even though he's sick too.

Sherlock nodded as he reached for the tissues.

Hngxtshoooo! Hngxtshoooo!

“Bless you,” John said. He noticed that Sherlock was sneezing less restrained and more desperate, as if his normal ‘proper’ façade was cracking, as he started to feel worse.

Sigh. Poor sick, sneezy Sherlock.

Doctor Watson, such a professional.

Oh, yes, poor sick and sneezy Sherlock. Also, showing the parallel here between the two brothers; the sicker Mycroft became, the same thing happened. Perhaps at some point that will have to be pointed out. But by whom?

There shall never be enough sick John and Sherlock in the world. Is it wrong for me to be so giddy at the thought of Sherlock feeling really awful and seeking comfort from John?

No, no there isn't.

Who the hell is Gregory? Really Sherlock. Pay attention. I love this all!

There will never now be a fic where Sherlock ever gets Lestrade's first name right. I am glad you're enjoying!

[cally]

66. domestic

Meanwhile, at Scotland Yard….

Gregory had a cup of coffee on his desk along with a stack of files. Paperwork was the bane of his existence, but it came with the territory, like keeping Sherlock in cases or fielding domestics between Anderson and Donovan.

He rubbed a hand over his face, and pulled the top file toward him. As he read, he let his mind wander about what he wanted to do with Mycroft this evening.

Huhhrahhhshhhooo!!

Well, that came out of nowhere, he thought. He continued reading, but was interrupted by his text alert.

God bless you, Gregory! –MH

Are you watching me on CCTV again? -GL

Perhaps. Are you all right? -MH

I’m fine. And it's creepy when you do that. How are you feeling? -GL

Most satisfactory and fully recovered, thank you. But you, on the other hand Gregory, seem to not be 100%. –MH

??? –GL

You keep sneezing, Gregory. –MH

I sneezed once. I’m fine, love. –GL

If you insist, Gregory. -MH

I look forward to seeing you this evening. –GL

And I you, Gregory. –MH

From the depths of his office, Mycroft smiled. He was also worried. There was something going on with his detective inspector.

67. bridge

Sherlock sniffled into his tea. His head was starting to hurt and he was feeling, well he wasn’t sure how he was feeling. Yes, he had a cold, but this was something more. Perhaps Mycroft was right about sentiment.

John came in from the kitchen with his own tea. He rubbed his nose and paused to sneeze into his elbow.

Hi-etcssshhhhhuh!

There it was again, Sherlock thought. He looked up and realised that John was looking at him again. “Bless,” Sherlock said quietly.

“Ta, Sherlock,” he said with a sniff.

John sat down next to Sherlock and sneezed again.

Hi-etcssshhhhh!

Sherlock glanced at John. “Bless,” he said again.

John smiled. “Thanks.”

Sherlock sighed loudly. “Bored,” he shouted. “Bored! Bored! Bored!”

He stood up quickly and started pacing back and forth across the sitting room.

“This is intolerable, John.”

Sherlock sniffled and rubbed his nose with his dressing gown. “How am I supposed to think?” He rubbed his forehead and then he continued pacing back and forth. He paused, his brow furrowed. John noticed that the bridge of his nose crinkled. Sherlock then pitched forward and sneezed, cupping his hands around his nose and mouth.

Hngxtsh! Hngxtshoo! Hngxtshoo!

He immediately returned to pacing, rubbing his nose once again on his sleeve.

“Bless you, Sherlock!”

‘There was that feeling again,’ Sherlock thought. He didn’t trust his voice, so he simply nodded at John. He rubbed at his head, making circular motions with his thumb.

“Sherlock,” John asked, “does your head hurt?”

“Of course it does, John! Do keep up!” Sherlock sniffled wetly and rolled his eyes.

John stood up and went over to where the medicine was. He popped two pills out of the packet and handed them to Sherlock. “Here,” he said. “This should help.”

68. case

Sherlock took the pills, but just stared at them. “I won’t be able to hhh-think!” He quickly turned away from John and sneezed.

Hngxtshoo!

“Bless you again.”

“Well, John retorted, “you won’t be able to think clearly if your head is really hurting. Take the damn pills. Not that you need to think about anything right now anyways, just relax.”

John studied Sherlock. He sounded worse than he had at lunchtime, although he probably wouldn’t admit it.

“John, I have experiments that I need to be gettidg on with and Hngxtshoo Lestrade said he would be seding over some cold cases Hngxtshoo.” Sherlock could barely get through his sentence without being overcome with a sneeze.

“Bless you. Your experiment can wait. Cold cases can wait. Now sit down and drink your tea.” John all but dragged Sherlock back to the couch. Sherlock reluctantly took the pills and downed them with a mouthful of tea. He sniffled wetly and rubbed his head.

“Oh for God’s sake, Sherlock! Here!” John handed Sherlock a handful of tissues.

Sherlock stared at them for a moment before using them for their intended purpose. “Thadks,” he said softly.

[Spoo]

Ooooh. I love the way the cold is progressing. Poor Sherlock and John. And hah, Mycroft watching Greg? How very like him.

[cally]

Ooooh. I love the way the cold is progressing. Poor Sherlock and John. And hah, Mycroft watching Greg? How very like him.

The poor lambs have several more days of this.

Mycroft is such a creeper when it comes to Greg.

[AngelEyes]

Mycroft spying through the CCTV. That cracks me up. Why wouldn't he commandeer government technology for his own personal use? He is practically "The" British government. LOL

[cally]

Mycroft spying through the CCTV. That cracks me up. Why wouldn't he commandeer government technology for his own personal use? He is practically "The" British government. LOL

He must check on Gregory several times a day for, preservation. And to make sure he is safe. He's very protective.

[AngelEyes]

He must check on Gregory several times a day for, preservation. And to make sure he is safe. He's very protective.

I love it! LOL

[cally]

Just a brief update today, sorry!

69. personal

A few moments later Sherlock said “Sorry,” in a rather quiet voice. John looked at him as if he’d grown an additional head. “What are you sorry about?”

“I sdapped at you. I didn’t mead to. I just cad’t think ad it’s infuriating!” Sherlock swiped at his nose with the fistful of tissues still in his hand. This did nothing more than to aggravate his irritated nose. His nose crinkled, his breath hitched and he sneezed harshly.

Hngxtshoo! Hngxtshoo!

John put a comforting hand on Sherlock’s arm. “Bless you. And it’s ok. Your head should be feeling better soon, all right?”

Sherlock sniffled and shrugged.

“When’s the last time you slept anyways? Why don’t you lay down and try to get some rrr-hhh-rest?” John tried to fight through the rest of the sentence but was unable to keep the sneeze from escaping.

Hi-etcssshhhhh!

“Bless,” Sherlock said, as he got more comfortable on the couch. Of course this meant taking up as much space as possible, ignoring John’s personal space, and putting his head in John’s lap.

John rolled his eyes, but he didn’t say anything. If he could get Sherlock to rest for a bit . . . it would be better for everyone involved. He reached for the remote and clicked on the telly, the volume on low.

[squealofapproval]

Oh the feels <~ This emoticon tho

[tma]

Awwww... Sherlock and John are cute.

Oh... and Greg hasn't totally escaped completely?? *ears perk* Btw- way to go on the surveillance, Mycroft.

[cally]

Oh the feels <~ This emoticon tho

So adorable, I know!

Awwww... Sherlock and John are cute.

Oh... and Greg hasn't totally escaped completely?? *ears perk* Btw- way to go on the surveillance, Mycroft.

We will be getting right back to Gregory very soon. I have something very specific in mind for him.

[tma]

We will be getting right back to Gregory very soon. I have something very specific in mind for him.

I mean.... that sounds interesting....

[cally]

We will be getting right back to Gregory very soon. I have something very specific in mind for him.

I mean.... that sounds interesting....

I couldn't just keep this going on without more Gregory, now could I?

70. awe

Once John started stroking Sherlock’s inky curls, he fell into a restful sleep. John smiled; glad to see Sherlock finally resting. For the next 2 hours apart from an occasional attempted stifle of a sneeze from John and Sherlock’s congested quiet snoring, the flat was quiet.

John must have dozed off, because he’s suddenly awake with a lapful of consulting detective. He finally realises what’s woken him; Sherlock’s mobile.

Sherlock is immediately alert; reaching for his phone, sniffling and rubbing his nose. John is always in awe how quickly Sherlock can come to life; it takes him a few minutes now, especially as his head feels heavy and congested.

He drags his way to the loo, sneezing, as Sherlock exclaims something about Lestrade and cold cases and is practically running toward the door.

Hi-etcssshhhhh!

John rubs his nose, and sighs.

71. brown

Sherlock practically runs down the stairs; he would have had his head not still been aching. He meets Lestrade at the door and beckons for him to follow him up to the flat.

Despite being full of cold, Sherlock is still Sherlock and notices that there is definitely something up with Lestrade. He’s slower up the stairs than usual, and as they are halfway up he pauses. He puts one hand on the railing and with the other fishes in his raincoat. He’s breathing heavily, and at first Sherlock thought it was the exertion. It’s not. Lestrade’s breath is coming quicker now, and his nostrils are flaring. His soft brown eyes are tearing. Faster than Sherlock thought possible, Lestrade has buried his nose into his handkerchief and let out a violent sneeze.

Huhhrahhhshhhfff!

Lestrade looks up to see Sherlock studying him intently; staring him down. Sherlock is about to say something, but changes his mind. He simply says, “Bless you,” and flounces into the flat, dressing gown trailing behind him.

72. furniture

When they get into the flat, they find a tired looking John sitting on the couch. Sherlock is practically vibrating with excitement. “Lestrade’s brought cold cases,” he says to John.

John can’t really see what is so exciting about cold cases; they’ve worked them before. But Sherlock is bored and maybe this will take his mind off his cold or at the very least keep him from shooting more holes in the walls or furniture or doing any weird experiments, especially on John himself.

“But, what’s more interesting,” Sherlock says with a wet sniffle, “is Lestrade himself.”

“Sherlock, what are you on about,” Lestrade asks.

“Oh, you see, but you do not observe,” Sherlock replies, wiping his nose on his dressing gown.

“That was what your fifth, no sixth sneeze of the day. Your eyes are reddened and watering, and you are clearly in need of a tissue as your handkerchief is useless at this point.” Sherlock is in full deduction mode now; no point in stopping him, John thinks. He does however, hand Lestrade a tissue.

“You’ve fully recovered from this frankly bloody awful cold, thank you SO much, by the way,” Sherlock says, rolling his eyes.

“Sherlock,” John warns. His voice is tired, tense, and congested.

Sherlock waves John’s protests away with a hand, and continues on. “What you failed to observe, detective inspector, was that you were sneezing far more than you normally would with a cold, and that it has continued on even after you’ve made a full recovery.” Sherlock pauses for a moment, as if saying the word was about to bring on a paroxysm of his own. He blinks, rubs his nose, and then carries on.

“You’re suffering from a rather moderate case of hay fever, detective inspector. Case in point,” Sherlock says in a matter of fact manner, studying Lestrade, whose eyes are fluttering closed.

“Wha…. Huhhrahhhshhhooo! Huhhrahhhshhhooo!” Lestrade lets out a rather unexpected pair of harsh sneezes.

“Bless you,” John says, now also studying Lestrade.

“It all adds up,” Sherlock says with a sniff, “if you bothered to observe.”

[Spoo]

Ohhhhh. Now this is something I love. It's usually Mycroft who suffers from hay fever, but I love the idea of Greg suffering from it.

He’s breathing heavily, and at first Sherlock thought it was the exertion. It’s not. Lestrade’s breath is coming quicker now, and his nostrils are flaring. His soft brown eyes are tearing. Faster than Sherlock thought possible, Lestrade has buried his nose into his handkerchief and let out a violent sneeze.

[cally]

Ohhhhh. Now this is something I love. It's usually Mycroft who suffers from hay fever, but I love the idea of Greg suffering from it.

I've noticed that, and I thought it was about time he got his due.

[squealofapproval]

Oh gosh GAAH and the feels he was like ugh.

That's all I can say.

[cally]

Oh gosh GAAH and the feels he was like ugh.

That's all I can say.

thank you (I think)

[AngelEyes]

He simply says, “Bless you,” and flounces into the flat, dressing gown trailing behind him.

This is so Sherlock. Flouncing! And the trailing dressing gown...Lovely imagery!

[cally]

He simply says, “Bless you,” and flounces into the flat, dressing gown trailing behind him.

This is so Sherlock. Flouncing! And the trailing dressing gown...Lovely imagery!

Thanks!

I've been busy as of late and for some reason am also experiencing some writers block. I get ideas at the most inopportune times, like when I am about to fall asleep or when I'm on a run; I can't exactly make notes! Maybe tomorrow I will be feeling inspired!

73. throat

“Well, if Sherlock is right,” John said. Sherlock scoffed loudly, interrupting.

“If Sherlock is right,” John continued, an annoyed tone in his voice, “it’s nothing serious. How are you feeling?”

“I feel fine,” Lestrade said. “Apart from the occasional sneeze, I’ve been fine.”

John moved closer to Lestrade, looking at him. “Your eyes are a bit red, but other than that, you look ok. If your eyes feel itchy, the sneezing gets worse or you have any congestion, you should take an antihistamine.”

Sherlock cleared his throat loudly. “I believe I’ve already explained all of this!” And then he turned away quickly and sneezed equally as loudly. Hngxtshoo!

Hngxtshoo! Hngxtshoo!

“Bless you,” John and Lestrade said.

“Thadks,” Sherlock replied, sniffling wetly, as he flung himself into his chair with the first of the cold case files, as if dismissing Lestrade from his mind.

John rolled his eyes. Lestrade just shrugged, used to Sherlock’s dramatics.

“I’d better get going,” Lestrade said. “I hope you both feel better.”

“Thanks, Greg.” John walked him to the door.

[Spoo]

Awwww, poor Greg! And haha, Sherlock is always so done with him.

I really like the idea of Greg developing hay fever later on his life. In my headcanon, Mycroft has always suffered from it (from childhood to adulthood) but if Greg were to have his own share of misery? Oh yes. What a pair they'd make!

[squealofapproval]

I'm in love with the way Sherlock sneezes

[cally]

Awwww, poor Greg! And haha, Sherlock is always so done with him.

I really like the idea of Greg developing hay fever later on his life. In my headcanon, Mycroft has always suffered from it (from childhood to adulthood) but if Greg were to have his own share of misery? Oh yes. What a pair they'd make!

This was what I was thinking! Are you in my mind?

I'm in love with the way Sherlock sneezes

Awwww, thank you. I think it fits him, especially when sick. I think if it was just a random, out of the blue sneeze, he would be more refined.

[cally]

I got mushy. I couldn't help it.

74. drive

Gregory sniffled wetly as he let himself into the townhouse. He’d spent the entire drive holding back a sneeze; it’s rather difficult to drive and sneeze at the same time and he didn’t want to have to explain any unforeseen incident to anyone, especially Mycroft.

Realising it was better than nothing; he pulled out his sodden handkerchief and let out a set of sneezes that left him weary.

Huhhrahhhshhhooo! Huhhrahhhshhhooo! Huhhrahhhshhhooo! Huhhrahhhnghtshhhooo! Huhhrahhhnghtshhhooo!

Maybe he should have pulled over on the way home, he thought resignedly. He wasn’t sure if holding them back had been worth it. He was about to head up to the bedroom to change and fetch a clean handkerchief or find some tissues when Mycroft appeared in the doorway.

“God bless you, Gregory. Times five, I believe.” Mycroft stood there, frowning. As Gregory came closer, and Mycroft was able to see his slightly reddened eyes, he finally figured it out.

“You appear to be suffering from hay fever, Gregory.”

“So I’ve been told,” was the nasal reply. “And if you don’t mind, I’d really like to find some tissues before . . .”

75. lie

Mycroft took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to his detective inspector. “Here. And God bless you.”

Huhhrahhhnghtshhhooo!

Gregory took it gratefully, sneezed violently, and blew his nose without a care to how it sounded.

“Thank you, love.” Gregory tried a smile, but the look on Mycroft’s face took care of that.

“You’ve been at Baker Street,” Mycroft said, frowning now.

“Yeah, I had some cold cases to give to Sherlock.”

“He figured it out didn’t he?”

Gregory knew he’d be caught in a lie, if he said anything, so he just nodded. “John says it’s mild, nothing to worry about.”

76. decanter

Mycroft pursed his lips. “I certainly hope so. It’s early enough in the season that perhaps it is just the earliest of blooms that are effecting you.” He turned to walk back into the sitting room, and Gregory followed, glad to find a welcoming fire and a decanter of whisky waiting for him.

Gregory smiled, and pulled Mycroft down onto the couch next to him, placing a gentle kiss on his cheek. Mycroft attempted to respond positively to the touch, but seemed reserved, even more than normal, Gregory thought.

Gregory sniffed. “What’s wrong,” he asked. “If you’re worried about my health, don’t. I feel fine. John said if it got any worse to take an antihistamine. Nothing to worry about.” He gave Mycroft his most reassuring smile.

“Gregory, I would hate to see you suffer the way I have for so many years.”

“What?”

Mycroft smiled apologetically. “Since I was a child I’ve suffered from terrible allergies. They’ve gotten a little better now that I am older, but perhaps that is down to modern medicine. Spring time has never been a pleasant time for me, I am afraid. Having that terrible cold did not help things either.” he said sniffling slightly. It was almost as if talking about it, thinking about it, was setting him off. He rubbed a finger under his nose.

“Oh, love. I’m so sorry. Is there anything . . .” Gregory was cut off by Mycroft quickly turning way from him.

Ha-hah-Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish! Hehmmmpftish!

Mycroft sneezed rapidly into his cupped hands, since he had given Gregory his handkerchief. Gregory leaned over for the tissue box that was also on the coffee table (that should have clued him in, he thought), and grabbed a handful.

“God bless. Here, love.” He handed the tissues to Mycroft, who looked a combination of embarrassed and sad.

Gregory put his arm around the now vulnerable British government. “I’ll take care of you,” he whispered into the top of Mycroft’s head, brushing his lips against his forehead.