callitcoulson:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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What’s that supposed to mean, then?

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It means exactly what it sounds like, Miss Holmes. 

Who am I looking likely to piss off? Not you, surely, you don’t seem quite so easily annoyed—although I could try.

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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Why are you here? It can’t just be for a social call.

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Why not?

Because that’s not what you do.

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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He’s fine. Moran?

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He’s fine. 

Why are you here? It can’t just be for a social call.

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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I’m not. Don’t you dare start that up again.

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How’s big brother?

He’s fine. Moran?

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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Not your pet.

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But you really are. 

I’m not. Don’t you dare start that up again.

callitcoulson:

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     Try not to piss anyone off, would ya?

What’s that supposed to mean, then?

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

theladyofbakerstreet:

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Not really, pet. 

Not your pet.

(Source: callitcoulson)

youcantbeallowedtocontinue:

blackwidowofshield:

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(Source: callitcoulson)

Dress Shopping

missjohnwatson:

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John sighed, not bothering to hide that she was irritated with Sherlock forgetting about today. “No, we don’t have a case. Grab your coat. We have twenty minutes to make it to the appointment.”

There was a pause as Sherlock tried to remember what appointment John meant, and her eyebrows flew up when she figured it out. “That’s—really, already?” She frowned slightly, rising to her feet quickly. “I’ll admit to losing track of days, but I hadn’t realized this was already upon us.” There was a pause as she patted her trousers, shaking away any dust. “But yes, I suppose we’d better be going.”

Dress Shopping

missjohnwatson:

John hadn’t exactly thought through all of the pros and cons of asking Sherlock to be her maid of honor. It had been an easy decision. Sherlock was her best friend. Who else would she have asked? Of course, John hadn’t thought about what would happen when the time came for her to go find a dress for her wedding. She almost didn’t want to call Sherlock and ask her to go with her. But she did, and now the time had come.

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She walked into 221 B and looked around for the other woman. “Sherlock? We need to go.”

Sherlock was still in the process of planning, her usual wall of case notes instead full of wedding options. If she was doing this, she was doing it full-out. And she had to admit, there was something soothing about folding napkins.

She nearly toppled from her seat on the floor when she heard John’s voice, staring up at her partner uncertainly. “What is it? Do we have a case? I do hope we have a case, I’ve been rather bored as of late…”

❊ TMG