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A Clever Companion (Part 3)A WhoLock Fan Fiction
The Doctor stared at Sherlock in amazement as the TARDIS doors gaped wide, a soft, glowing portal floating in the air. Walking up to stand beside the detective, the Doctor placed his hand on the TARDIS's invisible wall, and she shimmered into view. He turned to look up at Sherlock. He had no idea the detective could command the TARDIS like that. He hadn't even known he could do it himself until River told him about the finger-snapping trick that day in the Library...that day…
The Doctor sighed and blinked, then remembered that he was still irritated with Sherlock and turned a rather unconvincing glare on the tall detective, rearranging his expression just a split second too late. He knew Sherlock must have seen his moment of regret, but the investigator said nothing, and the Doctor had the strangest feeling that Sherlock knew exactly what and who he had been thinking about. It was almost comforting to know that his companion understood, without the need for
A Clever Companion (Part 2)A WhoLock Fan Fiction
Sherlock wasn't certain why this mysterious man had returned. Doctor Watson was an enigma even to Sherlock because he defied the laws of normal humans. It was impossible to deduce everything of importance in a life that spanned hundreds of years. Not to mention the regenerations. Sherlock had reasoned that something of the sort must exist as soon as Watson told him his real age. After all, even with a slower aging process, any body would wear out over hundreds of years, and, given the extensive time this "Time Lord" had spent on Earth, a changing form was one of only eight reasonable explanations for the fact that Doctor Watson was not constantly recognized upon sight as a living legend.
Sherlock knew that "John Watson" was not the man's real name, just as he had known, even as he made them, that his initial deductions about Watson when they met in the hospital lab were not nearly accurate. Indeed, he had only felt obliged to provide some demonstration of h
five hour energyi suppose
last week was only an aftershock
of the earthquake you were before.
this place used to vibrate
with metal strings and melodic,
testimonies to life,
emitting coffee-scented moods
and the burn of it too.
i had memorized the
sounds of silence,
i couldn't help but relish it.
no longer had i known
the sounds of folk
and scent of mocha-
you became nothing more
than an echo of the laughter
i so desperately needed to hear again.
then the echoes got louder,
bouncing ferociously off the walls
to be made manifest
i walked into your room
expecting exactly what i found-
an unmade bed,
and an empty beer
(the one that you insisted you needed
just days ago).
i pressed my nose
into the pillow
for incense and cologne and starbucks
to penetrate my mind
and thinking fervently
i already know
what a clean sheet smells like."
how strong an aftershock can be,
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More