Mr Holmes and the Good Doctor

A BAKER STREET CHRISTMAS by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	I have always enjoyed Christmas. It was one of the few times in my childhood that my family got along well with one another. Now that I was without any living family, I very much looked forward to starting a new Christmas tradition with my closest friend and roommate. However I was well aware of the fact that I needed to broach the subject gingerly.
A BAKER STREET CHRISTMAS CAROL by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson PG-13	Cubitt was dead, to begin with, there is no doubt whatever about that. The cause of his death had been predicted by the consulting detective he had hired, and the detective had not been able to prevent that death. Sherlock Holmes had failed. And Sherlock Holmes could not have failed; his name was good upon Scotland Yard for anything he chose to put his hand to.
A MOST ALLURING WAY THROUGH THE WOODS by Nells Holmes/Watson G	‘Dear me Watson, you have forever debased the art of horsemanship with your lustful wanderings,’ Holmes informed me, with a straight face, held in place only with the utmost difficulty.
A MUTUAL UNDERSTANDING by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	“Holmes,” I said, “you’re shivering. Come share the blanket with me.” He flinched. There is no other way to describe it; the man I have known to face down murderers and violent criminals without fear flinched at the suggestion that we share a blanket. He did not look at me, but kept staring at the fire. “It’s not you, Watson,” he murmured quietly.
A SECONDARY CASEBOOK by M Holmes/Watson G to PG-13	This afternoon it struck me, while I sat skimming the Standard, how odd it was that I had not realized my true nature. In retrospect, I have been able to see the subtle meanings behind many of my past behaviors. For instance, I frequently took opportunities to steal long-endured glances at him as he played upon his violin or sat smoking his pipe, thinking over a case. Small incidents, to be sure, but telling in hind-sight.
A STUDY IN BLUE by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson G	I just thank God that he chose to sit on my right side, as my old wound would not be able to stand the pressure. His head rests against my shoulder, and I can feel the arm growing numb. Yet I shall not shift him...
ANGST, ARROGANCE, AND ASSUMPTIONS by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson R to NC-17	It has been far too long. I lift our joined hands to his chin and draw his mouth to mine. Our lips wrestle pleasurably together for a moment before a not-so-gentle cough makes us tear away from each other, our hearts leaping to our throats. “As much as I hate to interrupt this tender emotional scene,” Sherlock Holmes says coldly, “we have work to do. I believe you have something for my brother?”
ANOTHER BIRTHDAY by Daylyn Holmes/Watson G	It’s not as if I expected anything, really. But Holmes’ complete lack of acknowledgment was, if I was honest with myself, hurtful.
AUGUST 1914 by phantomslick Holmes/Watson PG-13	He sobers and turns quickly away from the mirror, suddenly serious. The world is at war. And he—he is getting older. He would never have believed it a few years ago, but it is true. And Watson—oh, God, Watson. Poor Watson is nearly sixty, reddish-blond hair gone grey, though the heavy compact body is in as good shape as ever. Holmes should know.
THE AUGUST SERIES by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG to R A Work in Progress	“I must go,” Holmes said quietly and stood. I rose with him and engulfed him in a tight embrace. “Promise me you’ll come back,” I demanded. “Watson—” “Promise me!” “I cannot know what will happen, Watson. You understand that.”
BACK TO BAKER STREET by Alia Holmes/Watson G	Holmes had been most accommodating since our return. Even though I had accepted his offer to dine, and to accompany him to the concert, I knew he was still attempting to make amends for his poor treatment of me during the case.
BIRTHDAY WISHES by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	The surprise birthday dinner was now officially cold, the gravy congealed, the potatoes icy. I sighed. The birthday cake went untouched. There was no sign of Holmes.
BLUSH by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	His blush deepened into a mortified flush and he quickly dropped his eyes to the floor. I could hear the crackling of the fire in our cozy rooms, and his quick breath that seemed like panic. He went to rise and I knew he intended to flee to the privacy of his bedroom, burying his heartfelt longings and his embarrassment deep within him, so far that they would never see the light of day.
THE CASE OF THE BLACKMAILER by Alia Holmes/Watson PG A Work in Progress	In fact after witnessing the interchange between Holmes and the man who would surely stop at nothing to achieve his despicable ends, I had begged my friend to take great care in his dealings with him. I had seen the disdain both men had showed the other, and my fear that Holmes' position and reputation would be the next on Milvertons' long list of London's gentry to be scandalised was all I could think of.
THE CASE OF THE ESCAPED BUDGERIGAR by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	A flurry of wings brought me back to the present; the bird had been joined by two rock-doves, and the three of them pecked listlessly around the roots of the tree, taking refuge from the oppressive August sun, resting just under the bird feeder I had built for Mrs. Hudson the previous winter. “It’s going to be a bloody cat feeder if they don’t watch themselves,” I muttered under my breath as I fastened my cuff-links.
CAVE IN by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	“Watson, I am supremely sorry.” I have not often heard Sherlock Holmes’ voice trembling in fear. I stared at him in blank incomprehension for a long time, before the true horror of our situation dawned upon me. We were going to die.
CHOCOLATE by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	“You know I’m always willing to help you in your research, dear fellow. What is the nature of this experiment?” “It is a psychological study upon the affects of physical distraction.”
CHRISTMAS, 1897 by Sara Holmes/Watson R	Holmes was continuously making me aware of the inadequacy of my deductive powers, yet they were good enough to allow me to deduce that it must be Sherlock's brother, Mycroft Holmes, who had made that singular statement. Only he called Sherlock Holmes by his Christian name. Only he would have the temerity to call the great detective an imbecile.
CHRISTMAS PLANS by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	I knew upon awaking that my health had taken an acute turn for the worse. I was feverish, sore, and, worst of all, the contents of my stomach refused to stay in their proper place. I cursed the world for the unfairness of it all, but was, nonetheless, determined to persevere.
CONJUGAL VISITS by Alia Holmes/Watson R	The room is cold and I immediately miss the heat of his body, the strength of his arms and press of his flesh against my own. He had been almost insatiable tonight, I muse - ravenous in a way that I rarely have the good fortune to enjoy, and which made me truly wish that I could stay with him instead of having to steal away before the sun rose.
CORPSES DON'T BLEED by Sara Holmes/Watson PG-13	His face softened, just the tiniest bit, a hint of softness at the corners of the eyes where normally hard lines were incised. He touched my hand, his shaking with emotion, and said, "My dearest Watson, I owe you a thousand apo...." I interrupted him before he could complete his apology, "Holmes, you're not dead."
THE CURIOUS CASE OF DR. WATSON by Lyrical Soul Holmes/Watson G - NC-17	It came as a horrible shock to both of us when the seeds of justice sown many years prior grew into an unfortunate incident, which to this day remains personally painful for me to recount. It was a disgraceful, embarrassing, and humiliating affair, and it shook the very foundation of the strong friendship Holmes and I had forged.
DETECTION by Pandapony Holmes/Watson PG-13	Most of the rooms were empty this time of the year, but the Inspector crouched and peered into each grate systematically, hoping to catch a glimpse of the murderer and arrest him before Sherlock Holmes beat him to it in the morning. Even as he thought of the man, he heard Holmes' voice below. Crouching low over the grate, Lestrade was able to spy into the bathroom adjoining the room Sherlock Holmes and Dr. John Watson had reserved for the night.
DOES HE KNOW? by Indyana Holmes/Watson G	I sit gazing at the fireplace in quiet contemplation the fire blazes As thoughts of him burn through me.
DUTY, HONOUR, AND LOYALTY by Sara Holmes/Watson R	I see that I have been underestimating the depth of Mr. Holmes’ feelings for my husband and John's for him. I have seen in the Andaman Islands that men can have the same loving and tender relations with each other that a husband and wife can have and I cannot see evil in it, despite what Church and Queen tell me. Perhaps Mr. Holmes can fill the gaps in John's life left by my inability to be as loving and intimate as John deserves.
EMBERS by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson G	I watch him cautiously for a while; the promptings of his still brilliant but now sadly disordered mind can flare up at a moment’s notice, as embers buried in ash might burst into flame as the hearth is stirred.
THE EXAMINATION by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	“Where does it hurt?” Watson asked. He sat beside Holmes on the bed. Holmes was laying on top of the duvet. His shirt collar and cuffs were beside him on the bedside table, and his shirt was partially open. He had kicked off his shoes and lay there with a flushed pink tint to his cheeks. His eyes mischievously glinted at the doctor. “It’s hard to say,” Holmes said. “I cannot be precise.”
FAILURE by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	“I love you,” he said quietly. I tensed and drew back. “Then you love a failure,” I said, my tone bitter and vehement and full of justifiable loathing.
FAITH by Alia Holmes/Watson G	It had been forty long days and lonely nights since the great detective had declared he would remain celibate during Lent. The declaration had originally taken Watson by surprise. Holmes was not a religious man after all...
THE FINAL ROAD by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	The attendees began to disperse until only Sherlock Holmes and I remained. I squeezed his shoulder quickly and then made to leave so as to offer him some privacy for his last farewell. Holmes turned to me. “Stay Watson,” he whispered. “Please.”
FRENCH LESSONS by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	I had been avoiding his gaze for a while; now I looked up and saw the twinkle in those slate-coloured eyes. Sherlock Holmes released my arms from his grasp, but did not move his hips. Or, rather, he moved them in a manner that made it perfectly clear that he enjoyed the contact as much as I. Smiling angelically, he reached down and gently stroked my cheek with a single finger, tracing down the line of my jaw.
HARRY by Liederlady Holmes/Watson PG to NC-17 A Work in Progress	He suddenly looked desperately young and vulnerable, perched in that awkward position at the edge of the table. I, straightaway, wanted to know his name, to know what had happened, who had harmed him. I wanted to assure him I would find the blackguards and thrash the hide from them while he watched. I wanted to know all there was about him and all there ever would be.
HE SHALL NOT WRITE OF THIS EVENING by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson PG	He shall not write of this evening’s events; none of his readers shall ever know what has transpired between us this night.
HEY JEALOUSY by Felicia Angel Holmes/Watson NC-17	“I am far too jealous of those you have spent your time with,” I murmured to him, my eyes half-closed and simply taking in that scent around him. It was purely Watson but also mingled with the smell of the patient, one I was only partly used to after his infrequent breakfasts and even less dinners at Baker Street. “I am jealous that you smell like him. I was jealous of many others, but I could hold it back because you always returned to me and Baker Street. I was afraid this time that you wouldn’t.”
HOLMES DIDN'T SAY by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	Holmes drew out his pocket knife and ripped Watson’s trousers, checking the wound. He felt almost faint with relief. “You’re right,” he said, “it is quite superficial.” He looked in Watson’s eyes, a smile of joy slowly spreading upon his face. I love you, Holmes didn’t say.
HOLMES' MISTAKE by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	I had often chided Holmes for his egotistical belief in his own hypotheses, and his infallible faith in his own deductions. The fact that Holmes had, finally, been wrong, brought a momentary smirk to my features. I thought how I could rebuke him later for his error. But I was given no other chance to consider the repercussions of Holmes' mistake, as I was quickly surrounded by seven men. My amusement fled and, shortly thereafter, my consciousness.
HORSEPLAY by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	“Good heavens, Holmes, did you see that magnificent beast?” I asked, removing my collar. “What, you mean Inspector Danbury? Should I be jealous?” “Don’t be puerile, Holmes. I meant the horse, Braintree’s Pride. Nineteen hands of pure muscle!” I let out a low whistle. “Now I know I should be jealous,” Holmes chuckled, slipping off his waistcoat. “Honestly, Watson, I never knew you went in for bestiality.”
THE INJURY by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	I placed my bag on the dining table with a sigh. “All right, Holmes, let’s have a look at it, then.” Holmes’ eyes snapped to me. He turned even paler. “What are you talking about, Watson?” I frowned. “I may not be able to determine the difference between twenty types of cigarette ash, but I can deduce when a man is suffering from a dangerous wound.” I removed my jacket and rolled up my shirtsleeves.
THE LETTER by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	Six months, I thought bitterly. Six months, and still the wounds had not yet healed. I tried to tell myself that Holmes had acted for the best, and to my friend I had presented every outward sign of goodwill, gladly falling once again into our old routine. And yet Holmes’ blithe and cavalier attitude still rankled; my companion gave no indication that our separation of three years had affected him in any way other than the inconvenience of losing his biographer and sounding-board.
LIVING WITH GHOSTS by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	The figure of Sherlock Holmes rose to his feet, looking quite annoyed. He leaned over my desk and stared down at me. “Watson, stop this pathetic display of self pity. You are not going mad. I truly am a ghost. Now pull yourself together, man.”
LOVE UNSPOKEN by Alia Holmes/Watson G	During the many years of my association with the man known to the world as Sherlock Holmes I could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times when love has been mentioned between us.
MESSY by Lyrical Soul Holmes/Watson NC-17	"Are you aware of the... ramifications, Holmes?" "Do tell, Watson." "It could get messy." "Messy?" "Quite."
THE NEEDLE by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	There is no sense, no purpose, no distraction from the terrible and all-consuming call of the needle.
THE NEEDLE by phantomslick Holmes/Watson PG-13	It is here now—the needle. It shines in the sun as I turn it over and over in my fingers. Ah, you are brave, Watson; but not brave enough, I think, to come between a dangerous man and his drugs. For I am dangerous, have no doubt. People who have nothing usually are.
NIGHT INTERRUPTED by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	I could feel my own face flushed with embarrassment and shame. “I’m terribly sorry,” I repeated. “I’ll just go,” I added miserably.
OLD SCARS by Pandapony Holmes/Watson R Sequel to Old Wounds	Ever since we had returned from Aldershot a month prior, the very sight of Holmes filled my chest with a tingling, nervous, excited sensation which I had only felt before as infatuation. I recognized this feeling, yet strove to ignore it. I knew myself well enough to see how easy it would be to fall in love with the man simply because he was the only one who knew about my past.
OLD WOUNDS by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	There were aspects of my life before Baker Street that I preferred not to mention. Specifically, memories of my time in Afghanistan were so painful that I could not think on them at all. I shut the entire episode from my mind, and even went so far as to devise an alternative history for myself, one in which a stray jezail bullet tore my shoulder to shreds, and left me in a fevered state that kept me delirious and weak in India for months. This is not what happened to me in Afghanistan.
THE ONE TIME WATSON SAYS NO by Python Holmes/Watson PG-13	“I wonder if you would do me the very great kindness of considering the possibility of waking up.” Holmes’s words cut through the sleep-induced fog in Watson’s brain. They were the exact same words Holmes used to wake him at dawn that morning but the tone of voice was much different.
PARTINGS by Daylyn Holmes/Watson PG	He reached out and gently stopped me, turning my face back toward his. One tear was coursing down his cheek. “If you leave,” he said, “everything we have is over.”
THE PERFECT SNOG by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	He digs his fingers into my back, his tongue tickling my upper lip as I gently bite his lower one. Noses caress cheekbones as the kiss deepens, and the rough stubble of late evening beard brushes chin to chin, driving all thoughts of our task from my mind.
THE RECKONING by Daylyn Holmes/Watson NC-17 Sequel to The Stakeout	I must reprimand Holmes when he arrives home. His actions were foolish, reckless, dangerous even, especially in front of a Scotland Yard inspector, no matter how oblivious Holmes thinks Lestrade is. I don’t relish the idea of spending two years breaking rocks. Holmes’ behavior was irresponsible. It was imprudent. It was ill considered. It was incredibly arousing.
RED ROSES by phantomslick Holmes/Watson PG	Watson went over and took his friend by the shoulders. “How long has it been, Holmes—the black fit?” “Months and months—since a little before Christmas,” Holmes said, his knuckles whitening as he clenched his fingers onto the edge of the sideboard. His habitual cold mask was slipping, showing some of the torment going on in his mind. “I’ve been waiting and waiting for it to lift, and it hasn’t. Watson! I shall not spend the rest of my life this way! I’ll shoot myself first.”
THE REST OF THE AFFAIR by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	Although my recollections of the Charles Augustus Milverton affair are recorded elsewhere, they were, of necessity, heavily edited to conceal many pertinent facts.
RETURNS AND REVELATIONS by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	“Don’t be ridiculous, Holmes,” I ejaculated with alarm. “There is nothing you could say that would ever drive me from your side, especially now, with the miracle of your return to my life.” “I wish, more than anything, that was true,” Holmes said sadly. “But once you know my motives which led my actions, you will be hard pressed to forgive your once close friend.”
REUNION by Pandapony Holmes/Watson NC-17	“You sit there with a smirk on your face, berating my investigative skills, telling me you watched me as I sat weeping for you on that ledge?” My voice trembled with suppressed emotions. My eyes welled with tears again, and I wiped at them hastily. “Do you have any idea how devastated I was? How that moment shattered the man I had been? You stared down at my ruin, Holmes! I was never the same!”
ROMANTIC HOLMES by Alia Holmes/Watson R	Much had been declared in the heat of passion but I could not help wonder if the cold light of day would find my love regretting all that he had promised. If that were the case, then I know this night might be all we ever shared.
SEBASTIAN by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	I knew all too well why I had hated this cat on sight. It had nothing to do with my feelings for cats; I was jealous, and violently so. This feral street tom was receiving the caresses and affection I craved. Granted, I would not have wanted a saucer of milk or a ball of wool, but I would have loved to feel Holmes’ hands stroke my back, or to hear his voice grow soft when addressing me.
SEVEN DEADLY SINS by Alia Holmes/Watson G to R	It is I he hungers for, and no other.
SEVENTY MINUTES TO LONDON by nlr alicia Holmes/Watson G	I knew I missed Sherlock Holmes with an ache that went deeper than the old bullet wound in my shoulder. I missed the wry twist of his mouth when he put his lips to a cup of tea that had gone cold. I missed the way his nervous fingers plucked at a loose thread on the arm of his chair as he read. I missed the smell of violin rosin and sulfur. When I left Baker Street, I left all those little things behind and a thousand more.
SHERLOCK HOLMES' INNER MONOLOGUE by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson PG-13	He is at his work, tending to his patients with compassion and sympathy. How long would his sympathy last, should he know my true feelings for him? Would he view me with compassion, or would he turn away in disgust?
SLEEP, PERCHANCE TO DREAM by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	As I watched Holmes sleep, I noticed that his face began to take on a pained expression. He also started to twitch slightly and his breathing became irregular. With a start, I realized he was having a nightmare. I do not know what prompted me to react as I did, for if I had thought about it I would never have done so. I was out of my chair in an instant, gently shaking Holmes and softly calling his name.
THE STAKEOUT by Daylyn Holmes/Watson R	I know our quarry is dangerous. I know I must be alert. I must pay attention. But damn, how am I to concentrate when Holmes is stroking that infernal crop!
TALES FROM BAKER STREET by Alia Holmes/Watson R	We are perhaps not two of a kind, but certainly we are equally matched in many regards. Left to his own counsel he will come to terms with his part in all of this and then all that will remain will be a settling of method -- a form of retribution that only he can demand and only I can fulfill.
THIRD PARTY by Lyrical Soul Holmes/Watson G	"Don't, Watson..." "I was about to wake him, Holmes." "Let him sleep. Poor Lestrade. It was a tiring evening for him." "Yes, your lectures can be rather drawn out." "I meant the chase and subsequent capture of Claude de Brunhill." "Oh."
TWISTED PAIR by Liederladyl Holmes/Watson R to NC-17	He was choosing to employ a number of the available charms within his considerable repertoire, intent on cajoling me from my peevish disposition. This too, was behavior which had developed slowly over the past six years. Holmes’s pathological need to control every situation can inspire both admiration and rage, sometimes simultaneously. However, mastery of his more intimate endeavors required … careful honing.
THE UNSUNG HERO by phantomslick Holmes/Watson PG	My love is shards of shattered glass. They cut me as the nightmares pass...
VANILLA by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	Holmes frowns disapprovingly. “You are the only man I know,” he sighs, “who is mad enough to crave ice cream in late January.” “I should think that a man who fills his sitting-room wall with bullet-holes is hardly in any position to judge,” I smile, propping myself up with a pillow against the headboard. “And there are plenty of people who enjoy ice cream in winter.” “But not at two in the morning, and not in bed,” Holmes protests. “Mrs. Hudson is already understanding enough in the matter of our laundry.”
WAKEY WAKEY by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson PG	Sherlock Holmes smiles down at me, squeezing my thigh seductively. Despite the hour and my annoyance, I can feel a definite reaction from his caress, and I know that my resistance cannot last. It never does.
WHAT DO YOU GET THE DETECTIVE WHO HAS EVERYTHING? by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17	In my case, however, the detail which changed my life irrevocably was not only visible but known to me, although at the time I thought it a trifle. The course of events which forever altered the relations between me and Mr. Sherlock Holmes started in a deceptively simple manner; they began, in short, with a single sprig of mistletoe.
WITH THIS PEN by Jem's Bird Holmes/Watson NC-17 & R options [NC-17 Chapter 9: H/W/Lestrade/Alice Lestrade]	Holmes threw back his head with a barking laugh. “Watson, who in this world could be better suited to me?” He nuzzled me fondly. “You can’t honestly think I would even consider loving anyone else?” I looked down at my hand, which was still clasped in his. “We have been lovers for just under five years,” I said. “Neither you nor I know what the future can hold. I have no guarantee that you will see fit to stay with me for the rest of your life.”

Home Monographs Authors Latest Additions Gallery The Radio Parlour Moving Pictures

Sites of Interest Submissions Acknowledgements Contact