And the winner is…

A Burglary at Baker Street!

Sam and Dean Winchester have struck up a deal with Sherlock Holmes and John Watson. The brothers will offer their help solving cases, in return for living in the flat and sharing in the food John brings home.

This all sounds well and good, until it’s the Winchesters that end up needing Sherlock’s services for his next case… 


Brothers Consulted pulled away from Brothers Lost in the poll, and so we’ll be seeing the return of Sherlock Holmes and John Watson in the multiverse!

A reminder to everyone that when A Burglary at Baker Street ends, there will be no poll. Instead, There’s No Place Like Home will begin posting, and after that story wraps up we’ll return to the poll with all new options in it!

And now, a special sneak peek of the story that begins January 2nd, 2019!

Dean gestured for Sherlock to give him a hand. “Well, what are we waiting for, then?”

Sherlock smirked and proffered a hand for Dean, smoothly ferrying the elder Winchester to his shoulder. With Dean settled, Sherlock turned to face the room, not entirely sure of what to expect. And for once, the uncertainty wasn’t irritating, but exciting.

“Where to, Winchester?” he queried, awaiting Dean’s instruction.

Dean was silent for a long moment. He very rarely tried to actively use the ability. Mostly it just happened. They needed food, and he would suddenly just know where to go. Questioning it when their lives depended on the ability seemed like looking a gift horse in the mouth.

As he focused, the prickles on the back of his neck began to grow more prominent. His surroundings dropped away. He no longer noticed the rhythmic cadence of a pulse that throbbed through Sherlock’s neck next to him, and the steady sound of breathing, air rushing in and out of Sherlock’s lungs, was gone. It was like he was standing next to Sam once more, trying to hurriedly clear his mind and listen to Sam’s constant litany of ‘advice’ for how to do it.

With focus came clarity, and Dean found himself pointing before he realized his hand was moving.

Psychic freak slipped into his mind and he angrily crushed the thought as he told Sherlock, “That way.”

Sherlock almost didn’t notice the tiny hand, but he frowned when he tracked its path with his eyes. Dean was pointing at the door out of the flat.

The detective’s steps were halting as he approached the door, confused about what Dean was supposed to be leading him to. At his right, John entered the main room from the kitchen, a biscuit in one hand and the morning paper in the other. John paused as he noticed Sherlock’s odd movements, eyeing his flatmate as he sank into his armchair.

Sherlock slowly wrapped his hand around the doorknob, wishing he could look at Dean questioningly.

Dean didn’t notice the odd looks John was shooting at the strange pair from his armchair, unknowingly placed beside the nook in the walls the brothers had chosen for their home. If Dean spared a thought for where it was placed, he imagined it was just about at John’s eye level while sitting.

But right now, his thoughts were all tied up with the feeling on the back of his neck. After years of stubbornly ignoring the ones that were out of reach, it seemed that giving it his full attention had brought it flooding around him, more important than anything else. He needed it, and this was his chance to finally see what, and where, the thing was that was pulling at him in London.

When Sherlock didn’t open the door, Dean felt his impatience come to the fore. “Well?” he burst out. “We’re doing this, right? Or was this just some test run?”


Artwork by @justanothergiant!


October 8th excerpt:

Gently scooping Dean off his shoulder, Stan gave a small smirk and asked, “Where to, Mr. Winchester?” He didn’t want to assume where Dean would prefer to be to start out.

@enby-phoenix replied to your post:

Such a polite bean.

Stan absolutely is! He’s the most polite Brit, and he’ll always offer a cuppa!

But I think this time, calling Dean such a formal name might be somewhat of an inside joke between them, considering how they first met.

Bonus excerpt:

“Mr. Holmes,” the man greeted. Sherlock hummed to himself, noting the distinct lack of an Irish dialect.

The man’s brow shot up when he caught sight of the tiny figure contrasting the deep blue folds of Sherlock’s scarf.

“And… Mr. Winchester?” he guessed at length.

Dean straightened in place, letting the scarf fall down from his shoulders so more of him could be seen. “Mister Winchester is my dad,” he corrected, his voice level and even to avoid betraying any nerves. “You can call me Dean.”

Your amazing guessing skills continue! One letter off the title once again, earning everyone a sneak peek at the continuation of Brothers Consulted with–

A Burglary at Baker Street

Dazed and bruised, Sam was operating wholly on instinct as he heard someone entering the flat. “You son of a bitch,” he slurred, weakly trying to push Mark’s arm from where it was braced to pin him down.

Instincts guided his other hand, and Sam’s fingers wrapped around a familiar hilt. One he’d always kept at his side, but never wielded against another person.

In a flash, Sam’s silver knife was at Mark’s throat, trying to force a stalemate.

“Let. Me. Go,” Sam said, his daze shaken off by the adrenaline that surged through his body.

Mark froze at the cool touch of sharp metal against his neck, but his arm remained firm against Sam. He’d had weapons pulled on him before, but he’d never let any of them get this close. Mark’s breathing quickened, tears pricking in the corners of his eyes with every rumbling step ascending the staircase just outside the flat door.

“I-I can’t,” he whimpered.

He shoved his knee into Sam’s stomach, releasing Sam’s collar to jump away from the knife. Tucking his chin in close, he lunged again to land behind Sam, quickly grabbing hold of his arms and twisting them behind his back. His grip on Sam’s knife-wielding wrist was firm, yet he hesitated to deprive him of it.

“Please stop fighting,” he begged, whispering in Sam’s ear as the human outside drew ever nearer. “I don’t want to hurt you. He will.”

Sam snarled, suddenly resembling Dean more than ever as he railed against the inevitable. Even if he escaped, he’d never get away before the human got there.

“Do whatever you want,” Sam growled. “My answer’s not gonna change. Let me go, you sonovabitch.”

Trying to twist away, Sam found Mark’s hold on him too strong. He needed another way out. His mind racing, his lips moved to shoot out more sass and keep Mark distracted.

“So, what is this?” Sam asked derisively. “You’d side with a human over your own kind? Sell us out– For what? Some extra food? ” He snorted. “You’re no better than a pet.” Sam slammed his head back on his last word, aiming to knock Mark out.

Mark flinched back to avoid that fate, unable to dodge a solid blow to the chin. His grip tightened as he reeled back against the books again, the machine attached to him digging sharply into his ribs. He rolled his jaw and winced at the pain blooming across it.

It still hurt less than Sam’s words.

“I don’t have a choice…” Mark’s defensive protest trailed off as the door across the room swung open. If the human overheard him speaking out, Mark would really be in for it.

A tall man in a dark suit and tan wool coat stepped in, his light blond hair slicked back and his cold grey eyes glancing up from his phone to dart around the flat.

“Ma-ark…” he called in singsong.

@borrowedtimeandspace – I never mind questions about my OCs! Feel free to ask about my brand new boy. Just don’t expect any spoilers!

Stan is in fact gay, and happily engaged to his bisexual fiancee Nathan.

Which is lucky for Dean, because if they were the same size and Stan was single, the elder Winchester might have an energetic redhead crushing on him x3


I mean

Lookit that charm

“Somethin’ on my face?” Dean asked Stan. He briefly reached up to brush at his hair and make sure it was properly spiked.

Sherlock turned his head toward Dean at the question before he realized it wasn’t for him. Side-eyeing Stan, Sherlock went back to staring out the window and waiting out the ride.

For his part, Stan had absolutely no clue how to react to the small man’s witticism. He was choking on a chuckle, uncertain if that would be out of line or offensive. But there was something about Dean’s attitude that Agent Baker took a liking to.

“Would I know if there was?” he replied amiably with a faint smirk. A hint of an Irish accent poked through his words, confirming Sherlock’s silent observation. Second generation, from the sound of it.

January 12th excerpt:

John stiffened when Dean started climbing on him. That was a new one, and he couldn’t help but stare for a moment while Dean ran across his thigh, seemingly intent on getting up on his own.

January 11th excerpt:

Mark cried out in alarm as the hook sank its tooth in inches from where he was crouched. A second later, he felt the air shift behind him, and he whirled around to find the human peering at him through the gap in the chair.

January 10th excerpt:

Sherlock leaned in as Dean moved away, shifting to his knees and propping a hand on the dirty floor for stability. He was trying to emulate Dean’s line of sight as closely as he could, and puzzle out just what his small companion thought he saw down there.

A small amount of odd discoloration in the dirt along the wall had just caught his eye as Dean looked over his shoulder in annoyance. “Do you have to hover?” he griped up at Sherlock, jerking his head at his shadowed path.

Sherlock’s brow furrowed, looking more than a little offended by the complaint. While he could see he was casting a shadow over Dean, the detective gave a small huff as he pushed himself to his feet. Shoving his hands into his coat pockets, he side-stepped out of the way of the light, letting it wash over Dean and his goal, and leaned a shoulder against the nearby wall. He gave a flat look and a shrug, as if to say That enough space for you?

January 9th excerpt:

Dean jabbed Sherlock in the neck. “Give me a hand,” he asked, hoping to avoid the trial of climbing down a human.

Sherlock blinked at the tiny pokes from the man on his shoulder, promptly lifting a hand for Dean to climb onto. Stan’s brow lifted a fraction as he watched the strange pair with unveiled curiosity. The action was so simple, yet it reminded Stan of just how small Dean Winchester actually was. Nearly all of Sherlock’s fingers outsized him, and somehow he could walk onto that hand seemingly without trepidation. Stan had to admire the amount of bravery that must take, entrusting someone so large with your fate.

“Where to?” Sherlock muttered, feeling rather like a taxi. A human taxi for a very small man. His eyes darted around the room, trying to follow Dean’s gaze in case he found something important.

January 8th excerpt:

“As far as I’m concerned, I’m the normal one in the car. It’s you two that are the giants. And I think I’m adorable.”

Stan had to laugh at that, light and friendly. He wasn’t ridiculing Dean’s perspective, but basking in the relaxed banter going on between them. Once he was assured Dean did exist, his next concern was how he would be to work with. He imagined someone so small would find human beings monstrously large.

Despite being outright called a giant by Dean, Stan didn’t feel like a monster at all.

January 7th excerpt:

The man was not exactly subtle as he looked over at Sherlock’s shoulder, and that was to Dean’s advantage.

Dean glanced over at Stan, the scarf still draped down around his seat instead of wrapped to keep him hidden. His shoulders remained squared, keeping his bearing as proud as he’d ever been. He might be small, but he wasn’t about to let that get him down now.

“Somethin’ on my face?” Dean asked Stan. He briefly reached up to brush at his hair and make sure it was properly spiked.