November 7th excerpt:
He finally noticed that Sam was tugging at his sleeve. The younger boy was looking up at Dean, his expressive eyes full of worry. “What?” Dean said, his tone sharp with the lingering exhaustion from the night before combined with the stress of waking up with Sam and John both missing from the bedroom.
“There’s bacon,” Sam said simply, pulling Dean’s sleeve in the direction of the food. “John made it. It’s good!” He tugged harder at Dean’s arm. “Please?”
Well, lets just say that Stan is always tied to the Sherlockian storylines, because of a certain person in those stories being his boss…
Not only do we have both tiny Sherlock and tiny John in future AUs, we also have their knacks all planned out and charted!
Trust us when we say you’re not going to want to miss the BA version of pocket!lock!
Have a peek at one that’s in development:
Faster than Sherlock could ever hope to be, the human stepped into the kitchen in time for the tiny man to shoot to his feet.
Doctor John Watson spotted him right away, and he and Sherlock froze.
Silent.
Staring at each other.
Sherlock snapped out of it first, heart pounding as he sprinted for the edge of the table.
“He-hey! Wait!” John cried. Sherlock flinched as the human’s voice bombarded the silence of the room and rumbled through Sherlock’s very being. Then the table beneath his running feet began to shake, and Sherlock threw a glance over his shoulder to find John coming closer, his free hand raised placatingly.
All Sherlock saw was hands. Dangerous appendages built for grabbing, lifting, crushing– the most unpredictable part of the human body. Sherlock was decidedly against having anything to do with them and, in his panic, did the only thing he could think to do.
October 4th excerpt:
“You go on and eat up now, alright? I’ll fetch you another water and be right back. Sound good?”
Sam nodded numbly, mechanically reaching for another bit of egg. There wasn’t much in him to protest, and he didn’t much want to. His energy was sapped from the outburst of emotion, leaving him to eat the food, more tasteless now that he felt drained. He ate for energy and nutrition instead of enjoyment.
October 3rd excerpt:
“Do you have a napkin?” Sam asked, momentarily breaking out of his reverie. “It’ll be like a picnic blanket I can wipe my hands with.”
John perked up and his eyes darted back to Sam as the boy spoke up. His suggestion had been considered in passing as John worked, but it was admittedly a little endearing to have it described like a picnic blanket.
October 2nd excerpt:
John popped a slice of bread into the toaster, putting it on a light setting. Just enough to get it crispy on the outside. By the time that was done, the eggs were, too, and he put those on the plate with the bacon. Separately, he took a small cutting knife and took a small rectangle off one corner and split it into two squares. These he pressed thin with the flat of his knife, to make them easier for Sam and Dean to handle.
August 27th excerpt:
John started with the bacon, setting a small pan on the stovetop and placing on it two strips once it was hot. He almost put more on in consideration of his guests, but then he remembered that their portions would amount to crumbs compared to his own. He wouldn’t miss anything he took from his own meal if he gave it to the brothers.
While those sizzled in the background, John cracked a couple of eggs into a bowl and started mixing them up with a fork, meandering back to check on Sam. “Found ya some cherry tomatoes,” he reported warmly.
Sam brightened up, distracted from his wanderings on the table. “I love those!”
August 26th excerpt:
“How old are you, Sam?” John asked while he looked around for something to continue Sam’s path. With the kid so open with him, he allowed himself to indulge in the curious questions he hadn’t had time to ask the night before.
“Ten,” Sam answered offhandedly, distracted by his new surroundings. Then, corrected it to “Ten and a half.”
August 25th excerpt:
Turning back to the nightstand, John’s heart gave a little stutter to see Sam so close to the edge of the nightstand. “You okay?” he blinked, not quite yet putting two and two together.
Sam’s lips turned down into a frown. “I can’t follow you,” he said disconsolately, rubbing the sole of his boot over a mark on the nightstand’s surface. It was wider than his boot, but so relatively small to everything else.
Thank you so much! The stories are so fun to write and discuss!
Let’s see–
It would be interesting to see the brothers separated like that, but so far we haven’t found a way to pull it off where they’re both cursed and separated (since the stories with Jacob and then the stories with Sherlock are both with different writers, it would be a lot of coordinating with three writers instead of our normal two).
Somehow, they’d probably end up siccing their giant on the other’s giant, and it would all fall apart in a spectacular fashion. As usual.
Brothers Apart 