Tag: superlock

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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?

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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.

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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.

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January 6th excerpt:

“I see we’re back to offering hands,” Dean said snidely as he stepped onto Sherlock’s hand. Being grabbed the last few times hadn’t gone unnoticed by the tiny man, though he had more important things on his mind at the time.

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January 5th excerpt:

“Dean! ” Sherlock called, cutting off John’s comment as he took long strides toward the kitchen. It was the most likely place they’d find the tiny man. Sherlock had no doubt the Winchesters’ food supply had been greatly depleted that night and would need to be refilled.

Biting back a cringe at the volume of Sherlock’s voice, John heaved a weary sigh as he followed his flatmate.

The silence in the kitchen shattered, Dean burst out from behind the glassware on the countertop, looking more frazzled than normal. His duffel was discernibly thicker than before, and a biscuit hung out of his other arm. Clearly, he had been busy in the time since they’d seen him last.

“What?! ” Dean hissed. “And, what the hell?! How do you possibly always know where I am? It’s ruining my mystique!”

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January 4th excerpt:

As much as John wished they could do this without risking so much, risking Dean, he admired the kid’s bravery and willingness to put himself on the line to protect others.

With a grunt, John pushed himself to his feet. “Right then,” he murmured. “On to battle.”

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January 2nd excerpt:

John’s anger melted as Dean’s voice rang out from near Sherlock’s feet.

“Dean…” he breathed as he looked down at the tiny man, awkwardly shuffling to sit at the end of Sherlock’s bed. It still made his heart race to see either of the brothers on the floor. Dean had managed to catch their attention quickly this time, but John always feared the idea of him or Sam being unable to make themselves known to their larger flatmates.

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December 31st excerpt:

The humans weren’t kept waiting long. At the back of the shelf, beyond where any of the books would reach unless they were shoved back all the way, Dean’s little shadow slipped from the corner. The crack he came from was expertly concealed to be hidden from view if one of the books in front was removed.

With the books gone, Dean had never felt so exposed leaving his own front door.

The tension in the air was so thick in the main room of the flat that even Dean picked up on it. He stepped up to the edge of the fabric John had gathered, his eyebrows going up as he saw it was all the same color. It didn’t take him long to piece together the fact that John had shredded a shirt for them to use, brushing a hand over a freshly-frayed edge.

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December 28th excerpt:

Sherlock’s eyes narrowed at Dean as he listened. “Is that who you were chasing?” he asked, sharing none of Anita’s hesitancy.

John’s head snapped up. “Chasing?” he repeated. When did that happen?

“Who did you think I was chasing?!” Dean griped, his annoyance at Sherlock flooding back.

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December 26th excerpt:

The detective frowned when he caught sight of the line leading from the opened cage to the floor, and the little shadow of what must have been Dean dashing from it.

Ignoring everything else, Sherlock closed the distance between himself and Dean easily, slamming down a hand like a barrier in front of him and scooping him up to eye level.

“What do you think you’re doing??” he demanded, more confused than anything else. Sherlock was not fond of the feeling.