September 6th excerpt:

“Don’t forget the sugar this time!” Sam called as Dean set up the coffee maker and got it started. He got another annoyed glance, but only moments later, the container of sugars and creamers was set down next to him.

“For you to ruin your coffee with again,” Dean muttered as he finally took a seat close to Sam, still on edge.

“It’s not like we’re sharing,” Sam said, letting Dean’s annoyed manner slide right off him. He doubted Jacob (or anyone else, really) was ready to deal with Dean in this mood, leaving Sam the only one who could handle the older hunter.

September 5th excerpt:

Dean immediately dropped down, pawing through the condiments in the kitchenette on a single-minded quest. “Is there any coffee? I haven’t had a drop since we started out, and I gotta tell ya, driving through the night is not my favorite way to spend time.”

“You do it all the time,” Sam said, faintly scolding his older brother.

Dean glanced up briefly, scowling at Sam. “You know, I could just hoard the coffee for myself,” he complained.

“Sure Dean, whatever you say.”

With #eotm the only remaining title to guess (along with the new excerpts that will be posting), #a:asocs is unlocked for everyone to enjoy!

Aftermath: A Series of Consulted Shorts

(This is why we didn’t think it would be guessed XD Definitely a different style)

Short stories and small occurrences are an important part of Sherlock Holmes, and Brothers Consulted is no different! Enjoy a sneak peek at our favorite short story from within, The Borrower and the Baker!


Stan’s brow went up when a small older woman with an apron and cleaning gloves on her hands answered the door, and he put on his most charming smile, shoving his hands casually into the pockets of his dark wool coat. Unlike the black suits he and his team were encouraged to wear under Mycroft’s direct instruction, Stan was on his own time today and decided to make this visit in his street clothes.

“Afternoon,” he amicably greeted the woman he knew to be the landlady, Mrs. Hudson, even though they had never formally met. “Hope I didn’t interrupt anything, I was just hoping to speak with Mr. Holmes.”

Mrs. Hudson understood right away and let him inside, pointing him toward the stairs. He thanked her for her trouble and followed her directions, coming upon another door on the landing. It was closed, so he knocked and waited.

Sherlock Holmes answered the door after a moment, looking Stan up and down. Despite the hour, he was still in a dressing gown over an odd combination of a dress shirt and pyjama trousers. Recognizing him from their most recent adventure, the detective’s brow pinched.

“What is it?” he demanded bluntly, under the assumption that something must have happened or changed to cause Agent Baker to visit.

Stan made a move to unfasten his coat. “May I come in?”

Sherlock stepped aside, holding the door open for Stan as he entered and closing it behind him.

“Sorry for sort of barging in on you like this,” said Stan, shedding his coat and draping it over one arm, “but my team and I are in a bit of a bind and we need some advice.”

“Yes, yes, get to the point,” Sherlock grumbled impatiently.

Stan scratched at the back of his neck, a little hesitant. “Actually, sir, I was rather hoping to discuss this with Dean as well–”

Dean! ” Sherlock called to the seemingly empty room, knowing the smaller man would hear. Then he snatched a chair from the end table against the wall and placed it across from the fireplace, indicating that Stan should sit as he dropped into his own chair. Bemused, Stan did just that, laying his coat over the back of it before taking a seat, folding his hands in his lap while he waited.

They weren’t left waiting for long; it was only moments before there was movement deep in the bookshelf by John’s empty armchair.

There was very little dust left on the shelf from the time Sherlock removed all the books. This meant Dean didn’t get as messy when he passed through the crack that lead to their home. The old spiderwebs that had once draped over the area were gone as well, leaving him a clear path.

In annoyance, the little guy stormed out into plain sight. His leather jacket was hastily thrown on and his duffel bag hung askew, and he was glaring right at Sherlock when he came out into the light.

“You know, I’m right there, like two feet away,” Dean complained. “You’re gonna wake the dead one of these days, and the last thing we need to deal with is any vengeful spirits knocking on our doors along with all the rest of the problems going on.”

The sight of Stan sitting across from where Dean was standing brought him up short, not expecting anyone else in the flat. Dean scanned him up and down, evidently remembering the man from the late-night case two weeks ago. “Stan!” he called, his voice warmer than during his scolding of Sherlock. “Didn’t expect to see you droppin’ in!”

A smile broke through Stan’s bemusement regarding the situation as a whole. As strange as it was to watch the tiny man appear from the bookshelf and chastise someone so much larger than himself, it was good to see Dean again. He was the first and only tiny person Stan had ever met, and he would not forget their meeting anytime soon.

“Been a while,” Stan mused with a grin. “My team and I have been working round the clock the past few week, figured I’d stop in and give you an update.”