daylyn: (Default)
Title: August 1918: Renewal
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Four years into the Great War, as influenza begins to sweep the land, Watson receives a visitor.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to August 1912: Separation, August 1914: Reunion, and August 1916: Desolation, and is the fourth in a 5-part series titled The August Series, which captures moments in time, every other August, from 1912 to 1920 (from the time Holmes leaves for America through the aftermath of the World War I).

I finally finished this chapter. Now I know why I don't do WIP's -- it takes me forever to update. Sorry!


August 1918: Renewal
By Daylyn


The young man finally stopped coughing. I handed him a cloth and patted him on the shoulder. “Here you go, Johnson.”

He tried to smile. “Thank you, Dr. Watson.”

“You’re doing remarkably well,” said I as encouragingly as possible.

Both of our eyes darted to the empty bed next to him where a fellow soldier from his unit had succumbed to the dreaded Spanish influenza the night before.

“I hope so,” he whispered. I could hear the fear in his voice.

I did not like to make predictions, especially with a man’s life. I felt confident that young Johnson would recover, but there were too many complications and too much could go wrong. Besides, I had been wrong before. So I patted his shoulder again.

I felt utterly ineffectual.

My weariness threatened to overwhelm me. We had been fighting the flu for so many months now and with such limited success. I was also exhausted, I knew, both from my current 24 hour stint in the hospital as well as the four years of slogging through the War itself. I took a deep, steadying breath and then forced myself to turn my attention back to the young soldier before me.

“I am sorry to bother you, Dr. Watson,” the night nurse said as she interrupted my examination. “But there is a gentleman here to see you.”

I glanced to door that she indicated and there, standing at the entrance to the ward, was a tall, thin man whose dark hair had gone grey. He was wearing a surgical mask, as was required of anyone who was entering this flu-infested ward. I recognized him nonetheless. My heart gave a little beat.

I swallowed around the sudden dryness in my mouth as the bright grey eyes of Sherlock Holmes met my own from across the room.
Read more... )
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I finished the drabbles/ficlets from my meme. Woo hoo! They range in length from 100 to 350 words (basically, whatever came out of my head at the spur of the moment). Enjoy!

Watson and women (Holmes POV) )

Beachy old Holmes/Watson )

Young Holmes/Watson: “to watch” )

Harry Potter / Sherlock Holmes crossover )

Holmes/Watson and a little bit of mystery with veratiserum from HP universe )

Holmes/Watson: springtime )
daylyn: (Default)
Snagged from lots of people (Since I've requested a few drabbles myself, it's about time I posted this)

The first FIVE people to comment in this post get to request a drabbleish length fic (i.e., about 100 words) of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this meme in their journal.

Fandoms: Sherlock Holmes (my first preference), Harry Potter, and I'm willing to try Torchwood (but don't expect brilliance).

Let me know what fandom/pairing/etc. you want, and PLEASE give me a prompt.
daylyn: (Default)
Happy Birthday to [livejournal.com profile] rabidsamfan! (hey, it may be late, but it's still your birthday here in California, for another 3 hours and 8 minutes anyway).

To celebrate, here's a little slice (of life) drabble in Baker Street:

------

Holmes eyed the cake suspiciously. “Do you honestly believe that Watson is going to eat that… monstrosity?”

Mrs. Hudson suppressed a sigh (and a desire to hit her tenant with a pan). “The Doctor enjoys my baking efforts.”

“There is no reason to deluge Watson with that confectionary nightmare simply because it is his birthday.”

“Just because you are some sort of abnormality who loathes chocolate doesn’t mean that he has to suffer!”

Watson burst in the room. “I say, Holmes, have you seen—oh my! Chocolate cake!”

Watson immediately cut a slice as Holmes shuddered and Mrs. Hudson beamed.
daylyn: (Default)
Title: August 1916: Desolation
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: During the height of the Great War, Watson writes a letter.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to August 1912: Separation, and August 1914: Reunion, and is the third in a 5-part series titled (unoriginally) The August Series, which will capture moments in time, every other August, from 1912 to 1920 (from the time Holmes leaves for America through the aftermath of the Great War).



August 1916: Desolation
By Daylyn


Netley, 20 August, 1916

My Dear Holmes,

I sit here, in my stark, small room, on a balmy summer night, composing yet another letter to you. I imagine that you would smile bemusedly at my behavior, since I write to you although I have no idea where you are. I have seen neither hide nor hair of you for these past two years, nor heard a word of your whereabouts. Yet there is a part of me that knows you are alive. I shall add this letter to the collection that I keep, a chronicle of sorts at my time here at Netley Hospital. Who knows? Perhaps one day I shall even have the courage to give these letters to you, and you can again shake your head in bemusement at my fanciful writings.

The hospital continues its gruesome work of treating the wounded, and I fear that a sense of despair pervades the halls as this grotesque war continues. I am still amazed, when I have time to think, that is, that I am ending my military career here at Netley, the same place it all began. Although when I was a freshly-minted (and unbelievable naïve) army surgeon, I had not realized the extent of the problems associated with the Royal Victoria Military Hospital, to give it its formal name. It was merely a place to receive my training and head out to far more exciting locales. Yes, I was young and foolish in those days, Holmes.
Read more... )
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Happy Birthday to [livejournal.com profile] sherlock2040! I hope your day is fabulous!

I wrote you a Bert drabble (exactly 100 words). For those of you not in the know, Bert is a tea cup character created by [livejournal.com profile] sherlock2040 who inhabits the Sherlock Holmes universe and who has taken on a life of his own (in more ways than one).

-----

Bert surveyed his domain. The wind blew fiercely against the windows, but the fire was burning cheerfully, making the sitting room warm and cozy. Mrs. Hudson had fled screaming again as Bert had cuddled up to the tea pot, seeking its heat and comfort. Holmes was conducting another chemical experiment in an attempt to bring said tea pot to life. Watson was reading a story aloud, lulling Bert with his soothing dulcet tones as he conveyed the romantic and adventurous tale.

Bert sighed in utter contentment as he watched his little family. Life was good for a sentient tea cup.
daylyn: (Default)
Title: Challenge
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Watson considers his relationship with Holmes.

Author’s Note: Happy Birthday to [livejournal.com profile] the_callum and [livejournal.com profile] kathie_d and to any other April Fools out there! I woke up with this in my head as a birthday gift. It’s… um… a bit schmaltzy.


Challenge
By Daylyn

I knew that being the lover of the world's only consulting detective would be a challenge. Mr. Sherlock Holmes was, if nothing else, rather fickle when it came to emotions. He would ignore me for days on end, bark a command at me and expect instant obedience, or leave me awaiting his arrival for hours at a time while he single-mindedly searched for some obscure clue on some obscure case.

The benefits of the relationship, however, far outweighed the difficulties. There were times when Holmes would spontaneously grab my arm, or introduce me as his friend and partner, or smile at me with an unexpected warmth. Those were the times when Holmes would convey his feelings far more effectively than any words he was never able to utter.

In the early days, I doubted my place in his heart and sincerely questioned my sanity in pursuing an amorous connection. His oftentimes abrupt and cold manner would leave me privately nursing a wounded ego and an even more wounded heart. Yet I came to realize that it was Holmes’ little gestures—acts which only I was ever a party to—that truly epitomized his sentiments. A hand on my shoulder, offering comfort. An unexpected rest when my old war wounds would ache. A warm brandy brought to my chair when I was too weary to rise. A kiss in a dark corner. These actions, and so many hundreds of others, indicated my friend’s true regard for me.

It was a challenge being the lover of the world’s only consulting detective, but the rewards were worth it, for only I glimpsed Holmes’ soul, filled as it was with pain, wonder, beauty, and, most importantly, love.
daylyn: (Default)
Title: August 1914: Reunion
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Holmes returns to Watson’s life on the eve of the war.

Author’s Note: This is a sequel to August 1912: Separation, and is the second in a 5-part series titled (unoriginally) The August Series, which will capture moments in time, every other August, from 1912 to 1920 (from the time Holmes leaves for America through the aftermath of the Great War. (And yes, I have plans for the other three parts; now I just need to write them)).



August 1914: Reunion
Part 2 of the August Series
By Daylyn

I could barely contain my excitement when I received the wire.

Watson

Meet me at Harwich Station on 2 August with the car.
The game is still afoot.

[signed] Altamont


I smiled broadly, for it was obvious that Altamont was an alias for my dearest friend, Sherlock Holmes, returning to England after two years of secret work in America. I also rejoiced because he wished me to participate in whatever grand scheme he was planning.

I felt that twenty years of my life had just melted away, and I was transported back to the old days of our time in Baker Street. I was almost giddy with anticipation.

I informed my wife that I had business and may be away for a day or so. She looked at me suspiciously, but did not question me, for which I was grateful. After all, it was not that unusual for a doctor to spend significant time with a patient. Still believing that Holmes was in America, she had no inkling as to the true nature of my business.

I did, I admit, feel a sharp pang of guilt over my deception. Her dislike of Holmes was legendary; she had never forgiven him for my being shot during the matter of the three Garridebs. I fear that her resentment ran deeper, to an almost jealous competition for my affections. But I had never missed a direct summons from Sherlock Holmes to assist him on a case in over thirty years of our partnership, and I was not about to start.
Read more... )
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Just a few drabbles, inspired by the Valentine's Day Drabble (and Ficlet) Writing over on the Holmesslash Yahoo!Groups.

One is about Psycho!Mycroft (Sherlock's brother, who is too much fun to write as being dangerously nasty, even if he isn't at all appropriate for Valentine's Day). Exactly 100 words.


"I know how my brother intends to escape your clutches, leaving you caught instead."

"How much?"

"Not every man can be purchased, Mr. Moriarty."

"Every man has a price, Mr. Holmes."

I gave a tight smile. We understood each other. "Sherlock will be traveling with the Doctor, who is not to be harmed."

His lips pursed. "That may be unavoidable."

"No. You must find a way. I insist."

"Do you want him brought to you?"

"Unnecessary. He will be quite easy to… manipulate… once my brother is gone."

"Done."

I laid bare Sherlock's plans, salivating in anticipation of my own.
______________________

And the other uses the prompts of slush, Mycroft, and pantaloons (although not particularly well, but hey, at least there are no psycho siblings). A schmaltzy double drabble (200 words).


I trudged through the slush. Mycroft had provided me with the answer yet again—`Well, if his pantaloons were as you say, then his assailant must have had an accomplice.' The fact that two men were involved significantly reduced the list of suspects and—

I stopped abruptly as I saw Watson making his way through the foul weather. He limped slightly, the dampness obviously bothering his wound.

I caught up with him and linked my arm with his. His smile of delight upon seeing me made my knees slightly weak. I wondered how he could affect me so.

"Holmes! How is everything with the case?"

"Nearly complete, my dear Watson. A few more enquiries and I believe we will have a successful resolution."

"Wonderful."

"Where are you heading to on a night such as this, Watson?"

He flushed slightly. "I was going to the tobacconist."

"Weren't you there just yesterday?" I asked, puzzled.

"Yes, but you are almost out of your strong shag. I wanted to make sure you had some on hand in case you were dealing with a two pipe problem."

The cold outside could in no way compete with the warmth I felt at my friend's care.
_________________

*yawn* Off to bed for me now.
daylyn: (Default)
Title: August 1912
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Holmes says good-bye before leaving for America.

Author’s Note: Well, in honor of Sherlock Holmes’s birthday, and my New Year’s resolution to actually write more, I finished this piece of angst that has been mulling around in my head for the past month or so. Poor Sherlock—it’s his birthday, and I make him suffer.


August 1912: Separation
By Daylyn

I sat at my desk, reviewing my files, when there was a knock at the door and the maid stepped in.

“I’m sorry, Doctor,” said she, “but there is a gentleman here who insists upon seeing you.”

“Tell him to make an appointment,” said I, knowing that I had little time before my next patient’s arrival and I then had to go on rounds.

“I did, sir. But he was most adamant. He insisted that you were the only one who could help him and that he had to see you immediately.”

“It will only take a few moments, Doctor, but there is no other who can assist me,” said a wizened, deformed old man, with white hair and a sharp face. He was carrying several volumes of books. The maid looked on in horror as he made his way into my consulting room.

“It’s quite all right, Betsy,” I said to her, dismissing her from the room. “I’ll see this gentleman now. Just ask Mrs. Fitzgerald to wait a few moments when she arrives.”

“If you’re certain, Doctor.”

I smiled at her. She gave a little curtsey and a bewildered look, then left the room.

I turned to my new patient. “What are you doing here, Holmes?”
Read more... )
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Title: Christmas Plans
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson (pre-slash)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Watson’s plans for Christmas go awry when he finds himself sick.

Author’s Note: HAPPY NEW YEAR! I come bearing… um… a Christmas gift. *smiles sheepishly*

Well, you see, one of my resolutions is to write more and to actually finish what I started. I began this a few weeks ago as a Christmas fic, but did not quite finish it on time. So, hoping that the old adage ‘better late than never’ is indeed true, I am posting it now.

The inspiration was a surprise stomach flu that I suffered a few weeks before Christmas. That’s probably why the story is kind of sentimental and schmaltzy.

Anyway, here’s wishing everyone a very happy new year!



Christmas Plans
By Daylyn


My first Christmas at Baker Street was also my first Christmas back in England after many years. I had left for the army in 1878 and had been abroad ever since. Christmas in the army, while observed, was hardly a festive affair. For Christmas the previous year, 1880, I had been on a transport ship heading back home and still recovering from my wartime injuries. I do not even think that I noticed when Christmas day came and went, having been wrapped up in my own private misery at the time.

As a result of the past several years, it had been some time since I celebrated the holiday season properly. It is an interesting phenomenon that once you stop following a tradition, it is actually quite difficult to get back into the mindset. As such, I found myself in December 1881 feeling melancholy, out-of-sorts, and completely disinterested in the upcoming festivities.

Our landlady, Mrs. Hudson, had decorated our cozy rooms with the traditional Christmas trimmings, but they, to be honest, failed to stir my heart. I had to admit that my flat-mate, Mr. Sherlock Holmes, also seem equally unmoved by the season. I privately considered that his lack of interest had to do with his singular focus on crime. If Christmas had led to a criminal spree, he would have been all atwitter.
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Title: Living with Ghosts
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.
Warnings: AU (Sherlock Holmes is a ghost); Character Death (um… Sherlock Holmes is a ghost).

Summary: Watson remembers.

Author’s Note: Many (many) months ago, [livejournal.com profile] nlr_alicia said that she wanted to read something along the lines of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, but with Holmes and Watson. This story immediately popped into my head. I could see it all, from beginning to end. It just took me a while to write it.

Sadly, Alicia seems to have disappeared from the fandom. I do hope she comes back someday, and reads the story she inspired.

Thanks to my beta reader [livejournal.com profile] the_callum for all the editing, comments, suggestions, and encouragement. You rock, my twin!



Living with Ghosts
By Daylyn

I could hear the familiar din of hospital sounds as I lay in the stark, sterile bed. My labored breathing echoed through the dark ward. Sleep was elusive. I lay there, my mind racing, as thoughts and memories danced through my head.

The night nurses were speaking quietly, their voices an almost soothing lull. I realized with a start that they were discussing me.

“Oh yes, that’s Dr. Watson,” one of them was saying. “I remember him from when I first started working here at St. Bart’s. He was always very kind to the staff, as I recall. Of course, I think he was pretty close to retiring from practice around that time. It was right after the War, you know.”

“Dr. Watson,” said the other nurse, who sounded younger. “Why does that name sound familiar? Was he well known here at the hospital?”

“Not really,” said the first. “He was really better known for his work as a police surgeon, and he had a private practice too, I believe. However, it is a little known fact that he was the real author of all those Sherlock Holmes tales.”

“That’s where I heard the name!” the second one exclaimed. “I read those stories when I was young. I hadn’t known that Dr. Watson was a real person. Was Holmes real too?”

“I believe so. But he had died years and years earlier. Most of the accounts were fiction, written to honor his friend.”

“I didn’t know that. Did Holmes die like that one story said—at that waterfall in… Switzerland, I think it was?”

“No, that wasn’t it. I think he actually survived that like the stories said. But he died soon after his return to England. Sorry, I really don’t remember.”

Their voices drifted onto another topic, but their words lingered like a stab wound, painful and poignant. Holmes. Dying.

I remembered.
Read more... )

Fic: Blush

Sep. 21st, 2008 01:34 am
daylyn: (Default)
Title: Blush
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Holmes’ faint blush leads to startling revelations.

Author’s Note: Originally written for the [livejournal.com profile] cox_and_co Beeton Off Challenge, but it doesn’t quite fit the prompt of: "Tokens of affection - words aren't always the clearest speech." So I guess that this is more “inspired” by the challenge. I put the fic away for a few weeks, looked at it again tonight, and thought, “Hey, this isn’t so bad. I think I’ll post it after all.” So… enjoy!


Blush
By Daylyn

It was the faint blush that gave him away.

Sherlock Holmes turned from me, a tinge of red coloring his cheeks. If I had not been so focused upon him, I would never have noticed.

This was not a blush of a coy damsel, seeking to ensnare the object of her desire and further her social standing. Instead, the blush was closer to one of a shy maid, who knows that her affections will be rebuffed but who cannot quite quell her inappropriate feelings.

I sat there, bemused with myself that I would ever compare Sherlock Holmes to a shy maid, and then realization hit—Holmes had feelings toward me.

I must have gasped at my epiphany.
Read more... )
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Title: Night Interrupted
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.
Warnings: Smut. Pure smut.

Summary: Holmes returns home to find Watson in his bed.

Author’s Note: I had this bit of inspired smut come into my head, and it wouldn’t go away until I wrote it. Enjoy!


Night Interrupted
by Daylyn


I think it was Sherlock Holmes’ startled gasp that woke me from my slumber. I looked around, slightly disoriented, and wondered why he was staring at me with such intensity. Realization suddenly hit—I was sleeping in his bed.

“Look, Holmes, I’m terribly sorry,” I stammered. “You see, I just…” my voice drifted off. I had no idea how to explain away the predicament I found myself in.

It was not as if I had never been in Holmes’ bed; the nature of our relationship had shifted some months ago to one of shared physical intimacies. It was just that I had never actually slept in his bed. I always left soon after our lovemaking in order to prevent our discovery and ruin.
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Title: Sleep, Perchance to Dream
Author: Daylyn
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: R
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.
Warnings: Character death. (I should probably be kept away from the keyboard when I’m feeling so angsty).

Summary: Throughout the years, Watson watches Holmes sleep.

Author’s Note: Inspired by the Holmesslash Yahoo group Friday Fives prompt: Five times Watson sat at Holmes' bedside all night. Watson may not always be sitting in this fic, but he is watching Holmes rest.



Sleep, Perchance to Dream
by Daylyn

The wind howled incessantly outside our cozy rooms. I burrowed deeper into my chair, feeling the warmth from the fire heat my chilled bones. The gaslights were burning brightly, attempting to add cheer against the dark, cold night.

I looked up from my sea novel in a fit of discontent. The wound in my shoulder ached and my leg was stiff, obviously victims of the bitter weather. I contemplated heading to bed although I feared a rather sleepless night.

My gaze fell upon my companion in the room. Sherlock Holmes had fallen fast asleep while lying upon the settee.

I smiled slightly to myself as I watched him rest. His usually expressive face was peaceful and not tinged with his customary lines of worry or concentration. I found myself, again, amazed by the man with whom I had shared rooms these past eight months. I never ceased to be astonished by his brilliant deductive mind, or his quick changing moods, or his passion for his work.

As I watched Holmes sleep, I noticed that his face began to take on a pained expression. He also started to twitch slightly and his breathing became irregular. With a start, I realized he was having a nightmare.
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Title: Another Birthday
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Not mine, although actually in the public domain. No profit is intended.

Summary: Holmes forgets Watson’s birthday.

Author’s Note: Written for [livejournal.com profile] the_callum. Happy birthday, my dear, dear twin. May this be your best year ever! Even though life has been crazy, I couldn’t let the day pass without writing you a little something. Enjoy!


Another birthday

Another birthday, all alone.

It’s not as if I expected anything, really. But Holmes’ complete lack of acknowledgment was, if I was honest with myself, hurtful.

Holmes was hurrying out of our sitting room as I made my way to breakfast. “Watson,” he exclaimed, sounding rather breathless, “Lestrade just telegraphed. I must hurry.”

“Would you care for some company?” I asked hopefully, willing to forego my food for a new adventure.

“That’s hardly necessary,” said he in a rather condescending tone. “Good bye.” Then he rushed out the door without another word.

Mrs. Hudson was effusive in her warm birthday wishes, but I was quite upset by Holmes’ disregard. I tried telling myself that he was busy and that he had just forgotten in his haste and excitement over a new case. I tried telling myself that it did not bother me that he hadn’t said, ‘Have a nice birthday,’ on his way out.

I knew that I was lying to myself.
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This was written for [livejournal.com profile] k_haldane's microfic/microfun challenge. She listed 10 song titles and you had to choose one and write a itty bitty fic in two minutes. I ended up choosing three titles and when I was finished, I had a drabble.

So here, for your enjoyment, is my very first Torchwood drabble. It's not really canon compliant, but it's what came out of my head in that short period and I liked it. Oh, and it's exactly 100 words.

The song titles used were A Storm is Coming, Magnetic Fields and I Remember You. Enjoy!


Stormy Times

“A storm is coming, Jack,” Ianto said, looking up at the sky.

Jack nodded.

“I’m not talking about the weather,” Ianto added.

“I know.”

“Where shall we go from here?” The desperation could be heard in Ianto’s voice.

“Into the magnetic fields. It’s the only place that’s safe.”

Ianto nodded. “I won’t remember you, will I?” he asked, his tone clearly betraying his devastation.

Jack didn’t respond. “Go,” he insisted and pushed the younger man into the field.

He watched as Ianto entered.

“But I’ll always remember you, Ianto,” Jack whispered. He stayed outside and waited for the approaching storm.

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