You could think better with a hole in your head.
Friday, 13 August 2010 09:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
not_his_dateIntroduction @ fandom-smash.
[Moriarty’s retreating footsteps are followed by the door clicking into place within its frame, a sound that reverberates around the open, hollow room. The silent panic that’s been quietly building within since the explosive device was attached immediately escapes John Watson in the form of a heavy sigh of relief as Sherlock puts down the Browning L9A1 beside the large swimming pool and darts forward to free him of the deadly coat, sending it flying across the hard, cold tile. John’s breathing is laboured and loud, and ignoring the specialist as he goes to investigate, the shaken man stumbles forward, pressing his hands against the wall for support as he turns around and slides down it, eyes closing.
But when they reopen, the pool that was laid out in front of him is no longer there, replaced with hard, warn tarmac, and where the white wall was facing him from across the room is now a line of apartment blocks running by the roadside. John pushes himself up, standing straight, and looks around in bewilderment, still trembling from the ordeal.]
Uh, what--? Where--? Ah. Sherlock?
[Moriarty’s retreating footsteps are followed by the door clicking into place within its frame, a sound that reverberates around the open, hollow room. The silent panic that’s been quietly building within since the explosive device was attached immediately escapes John Watson in the form of a heavy sigh of relief as Sherlock puts down the Browning L9A1 beside the large swimming pool and darts forward to free him of the deadly coat, sending it flying across the hard, cold tile. John’s breathing is laboured and loud, and ignoring the specialist as he goes to investigate, the shaken man stumbles forward, pressing his hands against the wall for support as he turns around and slides down it, eyes closing.
But when they reopen, the pool that was laid out in front of him is no longer there, replaced with hard, warn tarmac, and where the white wall was facing him from across the room is now a line of apartment blocks running by the roadside. John pushes himself up, standing straight, and looks around in bewilderment, still trembling from the ordeal.]
Uh, what--? Where--? Ah. Sherlock?