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Nothing Else Matters -JohnSherlock- Ch7She was in there with John again. Second time that day that she was in there with his John. Oh how he despised having to let that she-witch near what was his. Something wasn't right with her. He couldn't put his finger on it. But there was something seriously wrong with sweet little Miss Mary. Something that clearly only he could see.
He watched them from his dark little corner of the room, the orange cat Orion curled up on his lap, lazily purring. The doctor talked about how much of a remarkable recovery John was making, how he should be able to go home in a few days. It made Sherlock's stomach churn. He did not want John to go home. He did not want him to go home to her.
Sherlock was watching her every move trying to figure out what exactly it was that made him hate her so much, besides the obvious fact that she was stealing his John.
There was something hiding just below the surface, something he could not quite…
"What?" He snapped fo
:Fiction: In MemorandumWARNING: This fiction drabble contains SERIOUS SPOILERS for The Losers graphic novel series!! Also, it hints at COUGARxJENSEN SLASH. Because there is not enough of it.
Former-Corporal Jake Jensen sat idly in Pooch's backyard as his niece ran around playing with Jasmine and Ashley. He had a beer in his hand. It wasn't his favourite beer, but it was the favourite of someone he'd cared a lot about. Pooch looked over past the girls. He held his spatula in his left hand as he flipped burgers. The stub where the top joint of his pinky used to be served as a permanent reminder of what they had been through together.
"Hey, Jensen, how many 'dogs did you say you wanted?" he asked.
"As many as I can eat," Jensen replied with a grin.
Pooch pointed an accusing finger at him "I ain't cookin' more than two packages, Jensen, you bottomless pit. You're gonna eat me and my babies out of house and home."
"Who's the one who invited me and Caylee over for dinner?" Jensen shot back
Damnsels in Distress
Damsels in Distress And the Saving There Of
It was dark. It was dark, and cold, and she was alone. That was all she could tell about the world around her. There was a dripping noise in the background, and the muffled, far off noise of a conversation. She tried opening her eyes, but the distinct feeling of material over them told her she was blindfolded and wouldn't be able to see anything anyway. Aisha experimentally tugged at her wrists and ankles, to find that they were bound tightly together. Her wrists also seemed to be tied to something, that upon further exploration, seemed to be a water pipe. For a few moments she tugged ineffectually at the bonds, in hopes that her captors really just didn't know how to tie a knot, but to no avail. With the luck she had been having in the last week, it was more than just a shot in the (literal) dark. The left side of her face and jaw throbbed relentlessly, and there were at least two broken fingers on her left hand. She could feel th
Back in The Bayou
Cougar and Aisha walked down the road in relative silence, neither of them having much of an inclination towards idle chit chat. Crickets chirped in the night time gloom, birds twittered as they settled in their nests, and the trees themselves sang as a warm, pleasant, wind rustled through the branches. Truth be told, the team van could have broken down in a worse place than an old dirt road in the back bayou of Louisiana.
Aisha had gotten a lead that informed them there was a contact down in some backwoods nowhere town that had inside intel on Max's current whereabouts, and seeing as it was the first lead they had gotten in weeks, they practically jumped at the chance to do anything but sit around.
The contact lived about an hour outside Monroe, Louisiana. I was only supposed to take an hour ride out, enough time to survey the area and verify the contact, time to interview the con
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