Back from the Dead (Sherlock)

A long shiver ran down John's spine when he realized what Sherlock was talking about. He couldn't say he had forgotten about it, but to talk about it was another matter.
"It's called a blow-job, Sherlock," he muttered, and then looked away, it was a bit embarrassing to think about what he had done, he had definetely said goodbye to his heterosexuality doing that, especially because he liked it. "And you don't have to reciprocate, I wanted to try it out, so I did," he said and leaned in for a kiss to his cheek.

"A kiss might be just enough for you to get tea," he muttered with a smile, moving towards the kitchen and putting the kettle on.

Sherlock watched thoughtfully as John pottered off to the kitchen, realising he enjoyed the way his bottom looked in those particular pair of trousers he had on. He slowly repeated the new word John had taught him.

"Blow job. Blow....job." He'd heard the phrase before with regard to sex but never really knew what it involved. Now he did know, he was even more confused. "Why is it called a blow job?" he shouted into the kitchen. "I don't remember you doing any blowing!"

John couldn't help the laugh that bubbled in his chest at Sherlock's shouted question. "How the hell do I know?" he replied amused, preparing two mugs, it was amazing how it was still automatic to prepare it like Sherlock liked it.

"I guess it kind of looks like you are blowing into something," he said and leaned back a bit, so Sherlock could see him do the rude gesture necessary to prove his point. "It's more like sucking though, isn't it..."

"It's one of those stupid words that doesn't make any sense," he shouted. "Like a bloody deerstalker!"

Sherlock laughed at John's rude gesture, "Ohhh John Watson," he giggled, a delightful childish giggle, then he stopped, more thoughtful, and added quite seriously, "I do...I do love you."

He blushed and quickly turned to look out of the window again.

"Exactly," he said, taking the two mugs and moving towards the window again. His cheeks were slightly red as he took in the words.

"You do? That's good," he said, and kissed the top of Sherlock's head before handing him the mug. "Even though I don't think it's very nice that you love me just because I give you blow jobs," he teased him.

Sherlock took the outstretched mug with a nod of thanks and took a sip. He leaned his head in slightly towards John's kiss and reached up an arm to help him settle himself back down on the floor next to him.

He grinned, knowing John was only teasing. "You can give me them as often as you like." he mumbled under his breath, blushing.



((we definitely need our Sebby now! we need some action to happen seeing as they're not allowed to have sex yet!! xD ))

He laughed again, making use of Sherlock's arm to sit down. "I take it you enjoyed that?" he asked, licking his lips, he had been rather sure Sherlock had liked it the day before, judging by his reaction, but now he couldn't be sure. They really needed to stop talking about sexual things, he was starting to get frustrated.

"I am sure you would like me to do that often," he teased him, his voice lowering softly.


((Yes definitely XDD ))

There he was, just as planned. Sherlock sitting on his usual seat in the opposite flat Sebastian happened to be in. To be honest, he hadn't expected it to be so simple.

His rifle had been set up carefully at the window, aiming towards the flat across the street. Now, all was needed was when precisely he'd shoot. Sebastian made sure he stayed hidden, sometimes glancing over quickly, surprised Sherlock hadn't moved much. He was a strange guy after all. And the amount of thinking he did was incredible.

((Since you both needed me so badly I have come to cock-block you both and interrupt your little 'moments' xD Going to sleep now so I'll reply tomorrow. Night <3))

Sherlock grinned at John and leaned into him a little, resting his head on his shoulder. He glanced at his watch. It had been quite a while now. He sat up again and stared at the front door of the office block opposite. He had expected Moran to come sooner than this. Where was he? Suddenly, something caught his eye. A flicker, a twitch. His gaze darted up to the window of the empty office directly opposite theirs. His hand instinctively reached out and grabbed hold of John.

"I think I see something," he whispered. "Look, in the window. Something just moved."

John's senses became alert when he felt Sherlock tense, even before he said the words, he was already looking for what the detective had noticed.

"I can't see anything," he admitted, blue eyes looking at the row of windows, he felt something was off, but he couldn't put his finger on what though.

"I definitely saw something," Sherlock insisted, then he got down on his hands and knees. "I need to move that dummy slightly. Make it more realistic. Nobody sits in the same position all day. Not even me."

He began to crawl towards it on all fours, trying his best not to be seen through the windows, keeping as low to the ground as possible. He finally reached the armchair the dummy was sat on. He grabbed both the legs and moved them slightly towards him, giving the effect of "Sherlock" shifting positions in the seat.

Then he crawled back to the other side of the room to rejoin John. He looked up at him, his mouth dry but his heart racing with the thrill of the game.

"I think we should go over there."

Sebastian glanced over just in time to see the figure move and he positioned himself, ready to shoot. Now would probably be a good time to get this over and done with. Simple.

His finger hovered over the trigger, getting prepared to pull it. Just a few more seconds and he'll be dead.

When Sherlock crawled to the armchair, John could see the glint of a weapon in the window opposite, and he found himself holding his breath instinctively.
"Be careful, he's there," he hissed, helping Sherlock up once he was close.

"What now?" he asked, he was sure the man was about to shoot. "I think the dummy will be dead soon," he joked half-heartedly.

Sherlock's mind was racing, a thousand thought a second.

"We've been watching this window all morning but we never saw him come in," he said, speaking quickly and with a sense of urgency, "That means he must have come through a back door somewhere and as soon as he's fired that gun he'll disappear round the back again and be gone, he'll probably have a car waiting. But then if we go over there now before he's fired, there's a chance he'll spot us coming out of the front door and he'll know the dummy's not real so we need to wait a few seconds after he's fired, give him chance to pack away the gun, and then we need to be over there, quick as we can. Now come on John, we can at least wait by the stairs so we're closer."

Sherlock scrambled to his feet and raced out of the flat, down the stairs to the front door.

John was quick to follow, his heart beating faster in excitement: "What if I start to go out on my own? His objective is you, but he's not going to be suspicious if I come out of the apartment..." he said, looking at the door.

"I could go check the building, see if I can get ready where he is going out?" he suggested, waiting for Sherlock to tell him he was being rather stupid for a logical reason he hadn't thought about and he should stay with him.
He did try though.

Sherlock considered John's suggestions for a moment, then slowly shook his head.

"No...I can't risk it. You're right. He won't be suspicious if he sees you coming out, but he might start to suspect something if you head towards the building he's waiting in. Besides, you look all...nervous and excited, and you're not very good at hiding it. Plus, I need you here with me. You're the only one with a gun. And..."

Sherlock trailed off, and peered through the peep hole in the door so he wouldn't have to look at John. "And I just...need you. With me." He added quickly.

"I can sneak my way around, Sherlock, I am not that bad at it, I was a soldier after all," he protested with a pout, seeing Sherlock bend over was doing strange things to his libido though. He reckoned the adrenaline was not helping.

"Yes, fine, I will stay with you," he muttered, and blushed a bit, so maybe Sherlock was being a bit overprotective? It was fine with him, especially because he needed to have Sherlock in his line of sight to be able to protect him.

One quick pull of the trigger and the bullet shot through the window and to the flat opposite. That had to do it. Sebastian had aimed for the head and without any doubt, hit the target precisely as planned.

He started to take apart his rifle, putting each part carefully back where they belonged. Hopefully no one would notice him going. It would seem too suspicious.

They heard the shattering of glass from upstairs as the bullet smashed through the window, followed immediately by a dull thud as it slammed into the head of the dummy. Sherlock put his hand across John's chest to stop him running outside.

"Wait," he ordered. "Wait until he's had time to pack his gun away. Then we go. You've got the gun. You lead. I'll follow." Sherlock counted the seconds, visualising the sniper dismantling his gun, packing it away, standing up.

"Now John," he said. "Go now."

John had truly been about to dash out when Sherlock's hand moved on his chest, he listened to the words and nodded, "Fine, yes, alright," he confirmed, his fingers grazing his gun, his whole body tense in preparation.

He ran out as soon as Sherlock told him to, crossing the street and missing a passing bike by a few millimeters, he threw himself at the side of the right door, and turned back to check Sherlock was there and unharmed.

The next second he was turning the handle, and he was surprised to find the door open. "Perfect," he exclaimed and ran up the stairs towards the flat they had seen the gleam from.



((You know I have no idea what to do, right? I haven't read the book >> I also implied the door is open, make sense if Sebastian had been ready for a hasty retreat?))

(( That's OK, lol. We're doing this a bit differently anyway. In the book they were already waiting in the flat for Sebastian and caught him...in ours he's obviously going to escape so he can come back and taunt us some other time!! ))



Sherlock waited in the doorway, hiding himself slightly behind the front door, and waited until John had reached the other side of the road. He saw John turn and look back at him. He glanced up to the window where the shot came from, confirmed there was no movement there, and dashed across the road too, ignoring the sound of beeping horns as traffic screeched to a halt.

John had already disappeared through the front door of the building. Sherlock dived through the door and paused. He could hear John's footsteps racing up the stairs to the empty office where Moran had fired from. He hesitated a moment, deciding whether to follow, then he noticed a set of steps going down. A basement? An underground carpark? Either way, it was a potential exit route for Moran. He took the steps leading down instead, confident that John would be able to handle himself.

John noticed the sound of Sherlock's steps going in the opposite direction, but he didn't think about it, moving up the flight of stairs and finding the right door.
He took out his gun, unlatched the safety and burst in the room.

"Freeze!" he exclaimed, looking in the room where he thought the window would be.

Sebastian had heard someone coming upstairs--he'd have to be deaf not to hear-- and pulled the spare gun out of his pocket before moving over to stand behind the door, waiting on the person to enter the room.

He heard another man shout into a different room than he was in and thought it might possibly be the police. Even though it had only been a few minutes ago that he had fired. Someone couldn't have noticed already, could they?

Sebastian stayed quiet, waiting on the man to enter the room he was in. The door was open but he didn't bother to close it, thinking it might echo in the silence that filled this place.

Sherlock found himself downstairs in an underground parking lot. He carefully tiptoed around, hiding and ducking behind pillars and cars, keeping his eye out for anyone or anything. For all he knew Moran could be down here already, and seeing as he was unarmed, he couldn't be too careful. He spotted two potential exits, positioned himself in between the two and waited. His ears were straining to pick out any sounds from upstairs. He wondered how John was getting on.

John fell silent when he realized no one was in the room, it could be that Moran was already out, but he doubted he could have been this fast.
He inspected his options quickly and then moved to the only other room that faced the street. He pushed the door slightly, stepping back as it swung on its hinges.

He watched the door and he could tell the sniper had been there, the weapon was packed away, but still by the door. It meant he was still around.
"Come out, Moran, don't be scared!" he shouted, and waited.