Tatterdemalion Scrawling

Purveyor of Finest Nonsense

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Fic: Sherlock Holmes' Diary - February I
Title: Sherlock Holmes' Diary - February

Fandom: Sherlock (BBC), Bridget Jones' Diary

Pairing: Unrequited Sherlock/John

Rating: PG - Language or whatever I suppose.

Word Count: 9,500. Ish.

Summary: Sherlock Holmes keeps a diary. No one is supposed to know about it. He's pretty sure Mycroft does though, the fat nosy git.

Notes/Warnings: This is a fusion for Sherlock and Bridget Jones' Diary so there will be similarities. Many thanks to [info]oxfordtweed for holding my hand and kicking my arse as required and putting up with all the flail and just. Everything. It wouldn't have been written without you. Also presented with a very happy birthday to the rather lovely Raggedy Hipster. Hope it was gorgeous dear. Oh my god did I mention I got fanart??  How cool is that? I'm completely overwhelmed by the response this bit of silliness got, thank you all so much for dropping by and telling me you liked it.


February 1st. Nicotine patches 4 Cigarette 1 (snuck out to buy milk) Flatmates 1 (glorious)

0830 Someone sent a cypher. Should probably decode, just in case. Can hear John thumping about though. Should I go out there? Or stay in my room?

0840 He’s in the shower. Should I rush out and make him toast? Would that be weird?

0845 Put the kettle on, just in time to see him wander by in a dressing-gown.
“Oh, hello.”
“Uh...” I suddenly couldn’t think of a thing to say. “Tea?” Articulate.
“Yeah, I’m just going to get dressed.” And he smiled. I like his smile. It’s all curly.

0900 Start of perfect life with John Watson who thinks I’m extraordinary.

0930 “SHERLOCK! WHY are there EYES in the MICROWAVE?”

0935 Huh. Going to morgue.

1130 Went to see Molly. “That was you? I thought it was one of the interns. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to explain why someone with two eyes now only has one?” And she threw a pen and it nearly hit me right on the arm.

1140 Sharing woes with Mike. “What is it with you and microwaves?”

1200 Took Molly some custard creams. She was all giggly because the new intern keeps giving her the glad-eye, despite being about twelve.

“He could be your toyboy.”
“I’m not that old.”
“I think you’d enjoy having a toyboy.”
“Shut up.”

Then he came in and Molly said. “Sherlock, this is Neville.” He was all young and swaggering and he’d got these ridiculous tight trousers that made him look like a pigeon. And he tried to squeeze my hand in some sort of dominance thing, which was clearly mad because I have a good half a foot on him.
“Alright? You can call me Noddy.”
Molly bit her clipboard.
Think I may be a bit hysterical.

1215 Toyboy kept hanging around. Told him to fetch me some Fallopian tubes from Molly. Molly told me to be nice, and remember what happened to Gary.

1220 He’s still hanging around.
“What are you writing?”
“Oh. ‘Ere, what about that Hooper?”
“What about her?”
“Are you and her-” And he did this bizarre hand movement eyebrow wiggle thing. Thought he was having a stroke or similar.
“You know...”
“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh. Well.” He went all deflated and shuffled off. What on earth just happened?

1225 “What did you do to Neville?”
“You mean Noddy?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yes.”
“Nothing at all.” And that’s actually true this time.
“He’s gone all mopey.”
“Maybe you need to tap him on the head and set him nid-nodding again.”
And she started giggling again. Quite mad, that one.

1245 Molly says I should offer to do something nice for John, like replace microwave, or at least clean it out. Also return eyes, because even if no longer have bodies she can at least dispose of them properly.

1430 Cleaned out microwave and Molly said she would come over to pick up eyes later. Suspect she actually wants to scope out John. I’m onto her.

1630 Suddenly realised it’s Valentines Day in thirteen days. February is such an odd month. It’s shorter than the other months. By at least two days. Seems a little unfair. Also unequal. It’s got a gimpy quarter day flapping around that it has to save up. Like it’s the child of January and March and they give it pocket money every year. What would a month spend a day on? Moths? The moon? Maybe the reason it has less days is because January and March stole them so they could have thirty-one instead. Would that count as child abuse? February seems to get along fine without them, even has treat of extra day every four years. Is that enough? Does it ever feel ostracised by other months for being a little too short?

“Sherlock, you’ve been staring at that calendar for five minutes. Forgotten something?”
“Do you think February feels cheated?”
“No, I think it would feel okay. It’s got the most romantic day of the year in it. And it gets an extra day once every four years.” John put down his paper.
“But if January and March both gave up their extra days they could give them to February.”
“But then there are still five months with thirty-one days.”
“That’s not the problem here, the problem is January and March abusing their power over February.”
“Well, it’s not really fair, is it? It just has a quarter-day flapping around that it has to save up. It’s not even like it gets interest and can have another one on top every eight years.”
“You’ve thought quite a lot about this, haven’t you?”
Oh god, what’s the normal answer to that?
“Extraordinary.” He picked the paper back up. “Quite, quite bonkers.”

1707 He thinks I’m extraordinary.

1708 And bonkers.

1709 Should probably try and be less bonkers. After all, am consulting detective. Bonkers is not something one desires in a master of the deductive arts.

1711 If you think about the word bonkers for too long it doesn’t make sense any more. Bonkers bonkers bonkers bonkers. Bonkers. Bon kers. Bonnnkers.

1716 Wonder if it would be odd to get flatmate Valentine’s card. What would I put in it? Most Valentine’s cards are so trite. Could get a blank card and write own message. Might be a little odd though. What would I put?
“You think I’m extraordinary.” He knows that though.
“I sometimes wonder if you’re as compact as that jumper implies.” What does that even mean?
“Hey baby, I would like to make sweet sweet lo” No.
“I want to do things to you that would make a dead person blush.” That sounds like necrophilia.
“I would like to try and fit you as well as the chair fits you.” No, that’s mental.

1830 Molly came over and picked up eyes. John smiled at her and she went all weird and fluttery. May have to kill her. When he turned round she grinned and gave me the thumbs up. What is that supposed to mean?

1900 Ooh, maybe John will get me a card despite Married To My Work Fiasco.

2000 Oh. Obviously. It’s a Caesar shift cypher. How dull. ‘I am watching you’. Mental. Or maybe it’s Mycroft. Texted ‘Beware the Ides of March’ just in case. Text back: ‘What?’ Not him then.

2005 What if it’s my fan? Never had a fan before. Are they all this mental? Bet I could trace the IP address. Would that just encourage them? I could send them an autograph. ‘Please stop watching me, I’m really not that interesting. Love, Sherlock’. What if I got lots of fans? I could have a form letter. ‘I don’t know what you want from me’. Could do interviews on television about deducing things. Remember watching a video of the Beatles with all these girls screaming and crying. I don’t want girls to scream and cry after me, would be lunacy. Maybe just a couple of girls. When I was having a bad day.

2010 Googled self. Own website. Theimprobableone, creepy pervert that he clearly is, has set up fan website. Googled Moriarty. Quite a common name, also an actor in New Zealand. Wonder if he might be my fan. Quite hard to watch someone from the other side of the world though. Maybe has a satellite. Do they even have satellites in NZ? Thought it was full of sheep. Presumably sheep have to use the internet too though.

2012 Saw movie trailer for Lord of the Rings (apparently filmed there). Full of Elves and things. Do Elves have mobiles or internet? Presumably they have things like that. Or would they use magic? Apparently New Zealand has been around since the Victorian times. You’d hope even a bunch of magical creatures and sheep would have come up with a society of sorts. Heath care and so on.

2015 They could call it the National Elf Service.

2020 “Sherlock, is that my computer?”
“No.” Maybe. Yes.
“Why are you Googling fairies?”
“Trying to find out if there’s a National Elf Service in New Zealand.”
Think I may be a bit hysterical.

0300 Heard noise in John’s room.He was tossing and turning- noise was book falling off bed. Muttering things. Nightmares. I didn’t know what to do. So I left again. Was that the right thing to do?

February 2nd. Nicotine patches 6 Cigarettes 0 (I WANT ONE NOW) Facts about John Watson 14

1045 We have Hobnobs but no custard creams.
“We’re out of custard creams.”
“Are we?”
“Why haven’t you got more?”
“Because I prefer Hobnobs, and you haven’t been shopping.” Huh.

1150 I can’t believe he prefers Hobnobs. Unnatural.

1115 “Why do you prefer Hobnobs?”
“They dunk better than custard creams.”
“But then you get little oaty bits in your tea.”
“I don’t mind. At least I don’t torture them like you do.”
I looked down at the custard cream I was eating.
“Pull them apart and then eat their insides.”
“It’s a mercy killing.”
“It’s murder.”
“Tasty tasty murder.”
Think I might be a bit hysterical.

1325 Mycroft called with a case. Told him to go away. He asked me how the list was going. Hate him.

1400 Ooh. Mike says John has a blog.

1415 Arrogant and rude. Pompous.

1417 Quite fancy the sound of imperious though. Maybe I should leave him a note.

1420 “Sherlock, do you have my laptop? Again?”
He stopped when he saw what I was looking at.
“Oh.” How awkward. Definitely not good to be caught looking at someone’s private blog, especially when some of it is about you.
“Mike showed me. Do you really think I’m pompous?” Where did that come from? Sound like teen girl asking boy ‘Do you like me?’
“A little, I suppose. Sorry.”
“But you think I’m extraordinary.” He blinked.
“Yes.” Then we were just sort of stuck looking at each other. Like owls. Or pigeons. I think I would be better as an owl. Ability to see all the way round very useful. Although throwing up after every meal could be unpleasant. But it’s only the bits they can’t digest. Suppose that would make food preparation easier. Could just swallow whole packet of custard creams. (Not that I would ever eat whole packet of custard creams; would be greedy, not to mention fattening.)
“Yes, Sherlock?”
“Would you want to be an owl or a pigeon?”

1420 Rude, arrogant, pompous, imperious. And now I am a madman. He was laughing though.

1421 And extraordinary.

1425 Texted Molly re: pompous rude madman.

1515 Emergency meeting with Molly.
“He said I was rude and arrogant and imperious and pompous.” I said it perfectly normally. How else would I have said it?
“Well, you are, especially when you get going and do the deducing thing. Or if you’re nervous. Or if you think someone’s being deliberately stupid. Or accidentally dense. Or an experiment’s gone funny. Or when a case is being slow or annoying. Or when the cafeteria runs out of those donuts you like-” I threw a custard cream at her.
“THE POINT IS that he still thinks I’m extraordinary.”
“Well? You are.”
“But he said that-”
“Yes, and you are rude and pompous and imperious and arrogant. But you’re also extraordinary. It is possible to be both.”

1530 Noddy insists hanging around whilst I’m trying to work. If he says “What are you doing?” one more time I am going to scream.

1540 Did no one teach this boy not to disturb others whilst they’re working? Tempted to accidentally spill bile on his horrible t-shirt. Who on earth are Owl City, anyway?

1545 Give up. I cannot get this experiment to work, and I may have to actually kill Noddy. I never even liked him as a child, far too cheerful. Not the toyboy. The toy who was a boy. Except he wasn’t, because there was that one picture of him and he was completely smooth all over. But I suppose ‘it’ would be impolite. Always mildly perturbed that he had a creepy older man as best friend, and lived in a supposedly utopic world where retarded foreigner was put on trial to defend status as a person despite being model citizen. Also racial stereotypes. And he was a taxi driver.

1600 And actually, Noddy was always in trouble with the the law as well. Why didn’t I see the signs sooner? Obviously a serial killer waiting to happen, living amongst innocent toys, pretending to be simple in order to win their trust. Bet he was already planning how to persuade Mr. Sparks to eat... What would be poison? Jam tarts? Honey? No, that was Winnie the Pooh. Winnie the Pooh would be first to be murdered though. Not by Noddy though, completely different.

1605 Probably by Piglet, egged on by Owl. Owl would be the dominant personality. Piglet would just do as he said. Christopher Robin would return from school to find Piglet poking Pooh’s stuffing into his torso, in order to take on his powers. Owl would be wearing a fine new fur hat, and using Eeyore’s tail as a bell-pull.

1635 Ooh, could just fancy some biscuits.

1730 John was going to the shop. “Anything you need?”

1740 John Watson thinks I’m extraordinary and now he’s bringing me custard creams.

1745 That is literally all I can think about.

February 3rd. Nicotine patches 3 Cigarettes 7 (SO GOOD)

1450 Noddy the toyboy was hanging around again.
“What are you writing?”
“Oh. Look. I were talking-”
“Was talking.”
“It’s not were, it’s was. You’re a middle-class student from Epcot. You have no excuse for that sort of language.”
“Uh... Yeah. Well, I was talking to Daphne, right?” Oh, that incorrigible old bat. “And she said that like, nothing was happening between you two.”
“You told me there was.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“You said-” Ah, at last the penny drops. How can he be at university but be so dim?
“Well done.”
“Oh, right.” He relaxed, slouching his shoulders and tucking his hands into the pockets of his tight jeans. “So do you reckon I’ve got like, a chance?”
I looked at him, all young with tight trousers and a hopeful expression and one of those odd modern haircuts that take half an hour to make you look like you just rolled out of bed and said:
“No. Not in a million years.”
“Oh. Why?”
“Because you’ve got stupid trousers and a ridiculous haircut. And you ask stupid questions. And you listen to your iPod ridiculously loud when people are trying to concentrate. And you don’t eat custard creams properly, and most of all, you’re about twelve for god’s sake. What you would you do? Take her to youth club?”
He just rushed off. Too sensitive for his own good that one.

1505 Waiting for taxi. Molly threw me out of the morgue. Apparently I am rude and pompous and imperious and arrogant. And then she threw a hole-punch at me. Would have tried to reason with her but she was really cross, and the only thing left to hand after the hole-punch was Noddy.

1510 Ugh. Mycroft picked me up. Most insistent I take a look at a case. Says he won’t drop me home till I do. I’m not going to take it.

1515 I’m taking the case. He might crush me with his enormous bottom if I don’t. It might actually be interesting. And I don’t suppose I’ll be allowed back at the morgue again for a bit, till I can create a force-field that will repel hole-punches.

1517 A dustbin lid would probably do it.

February 8th. Nicotine patches 4 Cigarettes 0 (AGH)

1726 Today I solved a case and John Watson looked at me as though I was extraordinary. Considered flinging myself across the room shouting ‘Take me now’, but I’m not some bimbo from a cliched romantic comedy.

1727 John could be played by Jude Law.

1728 And Lestrade was there.

1731 “John, who do you think would play me if they made a movie of me?”
“I dunno. Some tall, dark and handsome type I suppose.” He thinks I’m handsome? “Alan Rickman perhaps?”
“Oh.” Is he handsome?
“Why, who would you prefer?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” Christopher Lee of course.
“Robert Downey Junior?”
“No! The man’s a clown.”
“I think that’s a bit unfair.” Huh.
“What about Timothy Dalton?”
“So you fancy yourself as the James Bond type, do you?” Who? “What about Sean Connery?”
“No, he’s got all baggy and fat. He can be Mycroft.”
“Well, who do you think would play me?”
Jude Law. Colin Firth. Liam Neeson.
“Who’s that little ginger man? The one from the zombie film in the pub.” Wait. What?
“You mean Simon Pegg?” No.
“Yes.” What? Shut up, you’re ruining it.
“But he’s so little and ginger.” I know. I KNOW.
“He could dye his hair.” Look, just shut up, will you?
“And he’s got that West Country accent. No one would take me seriously.”
“Unless you were in the West Country.” Why would we be in the West Country? It’s all sheep and old people who look like sheep.
“So you’d take us out of London and put us in the West Country?” No. Never.
“If it meant you’d be taken seriously.” Well, I suppose.
“So what you’re saying is, in the movie of our lives, you would take us out of London and put us in the West Country.”
“Well...” Apparently.
“It’d basically be Midsummer Murders. You’d be Miss Marple. I could just see you in a twin-set and pearls.”
“I think I’d look good in pearls.”
“Not sure lavender is your colour though.”
Think I may be a bit hysterical.

February 9th. Nicotine patches 5 Cigarettes 5 (Glory) Amount of time spent appreciating and researching art 4 hours Amount of time appreciating John Watson 6 hours (Must limit, verging on obsessive)

1403 Mrs Mike called. “I want you to understand you weren’t my first choice, but Mike would like you to take Simon for a day this weekend. For Valentine’s Day. Apparently you owe him?”

1403 Apparently am banned from taking small child to park.

1404 Or the morgue. (How did she find out about that?)

1405 Or the animatronic dinosaurs. That’s fine, they were kind of rubbish anyway.

1406 Don’t understand mothers. Determined to suck any fun out of life.

1407 Texted Mike “Suggested small child activities?”
“Something cultural? Art gallery? Just try not to roll him in the mud this time.” Hmm.

1508 Ooh, I could take John with us. Bet John would make a great father. Is that Freudian? I don’t want him to be my father. Don’t even like my father. Vicious old fool. Anyway, if John was father, would imply wife who wasn’t me. Unless could impregnate self or him. If it was a choice would prefer baby to have John’s features, since they are infinitely more interesting than mine.

1509 Could give baby my nose though. And maybe my height. And brain.

1510 But I suppose John would prefer to be father rather than mother. Which would be good re: nose, height, brain.

1512 I couldn’t get pregnant. None of my trousers would fit.

1520 John says he’ll come to the art gallery with us.

1530 Oh god I don’t know anything about art.

1535 Hmm. “Art is the product or process of deliberately arranging items (often with symbolic significance) in a way that influences and affects one or more of the senses, emotions, and intellect. It encompasses a diverse range of human activities, creations, and modes of expression.”

1540 “Sherlock, what on earth is this? In the butter-dish?”

1550 Apparently what was in the butter dish was not, nor ever would be art. Even if I added an urn, which my research leads me to believe is an integral part of the process.

1553 “I don’t care if it influences your damn intellect. Get rid of it!” Philistine.

February 10th. Nicotine patches 7 Cigarettes 0 (small child) Amount of time appreciating art 3 hours Amount of time appreciating John Watson 4 hours (better)

0930 Picked up small child. Mike and Mrs Mike want him in bed by the time they get back. Seems easy enough.

1320 John good with child. Suppose he would be, what with being a doctor and all.

2200 I think that rather well, all in all.

2230 Mike texted. Apparently Mrs Mike found Simon’s clothes. Oh.

2245 I put them in to soak. I think she’s being very unreasonable.

2250 I didn’t know that they would have finger-painting on today.

2253 Or that paint could go so far.

2255 Or so high.

2300 John was watching me on the phone to Mrs Mike and giggling. Apparently I looked like I’d just been put on time out. I do like when he laughs though.

2330 He’s put my finger-painting on the fridge with a caption: ‘Sherlock’s Masterpiece.’ Huh.

February 11th. Nicotine patches 6 Cigarettes 2 Cases 0 0 0

1000 Molly says I’m not allowed back till Noddy’s gone. Huh. Told her to enjoy her toyboy.

1300 Bored.

1400 BORED.


1515 There’s no bread.

1517 John says that sticking one’s finger into the butter, then into the Marmite and sucking it off is neither good nor civilised. I beg to differ.

1520 “Sherlock, if you don’t leave the butter alone I’m going to take it away from you.” How rude.

1522 He’s hidden the butter. Could find it, but dying of boredom.

1730 “We’ve nothing in.” Why does he think I was eating Marmite with my fingers?

1745 Couldn’t persuade John to get take-out. At Tesco Metro. Don’t understand how it combines being so full of things and yet so boring. Also don’t understand why John wanted me to go to the shops with him.
“Tell me about the lady with the high-heels.”
“Because you’ve been watching her. You’ve got to know something about her.”
“Don’t humour me, it won’t make this any less hellish.”
“I’m not humouring you. I like your deductions.”
“You do?” Please try to sound less eager, you’re a wagging tail away from being called a good boy.
“Yes. Please?” And he smiled at me.
Maybe shopping isn’t so bad.

February 12th. Nicotine patches 5 Cigarettes 2 Days till Valentine’s Day 2

1340 Don’t understand what the fuss is anyway. Any relevance to actual Saint Valentine completely swamped by cheap chocolate and unrealistic red hearts. Will eschew it entirely.

1345 Ooh, maybe I could drop a hint to John about Terry’s Chocolate Orange.

1350 Could ask Molly to be Valentine, and use day to celebrate friendship rather than forced heteronormative relationships in rebellion against what society wishes we could be.

1352 Texted Molly ‘Be my Valentine to show eschewing of society forcing everyone into heteronormative relationships’.

1353 Text back: ‘Only if something better doesn’t come along.’ Huh.

1355 What am I, fifteen? And a lesbian?

1400 John says he’s going out with friends to drink beer and talk about girls or something tonight. Whatever it is those rugby types talk about. He says I’m not allowed to come. Huh. Didn’t want to go anyway.

1930 This place is so quiet. Went to see Mrs Hudson, but she was out. Think I’ll play violin for a bit.

2300 Oh god. He just rolled in holding a bag of chips like a bouquet of flowers. I think he’s drunk.

2305 He is drunk. He put the kettle on, called me his best mate in the wholllllle world and then fell on the couch like sack of potatoes or similar.

2310 I made him some tea. He’s eating chips and giggling about some person called ‘Bowser’. Who is Bowser? Apart from type of person who thinks ‘Bowser’ is an acceptable name. Probably has no neck and sticking out ears. Red face. Shouts a lot. Drinks Guinness and slaps one on the back with hand the size of a dinner plate whilst laughing heartily. Sounds a lot like awful Uncle Boris actually.

2315 I think he’s asleep. He’s still holding onto the chips.

2317 Trapped. All I did was sit next to him on the couch. And he sort of slumped on me. Every time I try and move he cuddles in closer. Is this how a teddy bear feels? Wish I still had a teddy bear so I could apologise to it.

2320 Very sweet when he cuddles though. Like baby hedgehog- FOCUS.

2321 I can’t reach my tea.

2323 Texted Mike: ‘Trapped under flatmate. Advice?’

2324 ‘Celebrate?’ Oh isn’t he just the wit.

2325 It is kind of lovely though- FOCUS.

2326 My arm is going numb.

2328 I suppose if he woke up I could tell him I was just trying to get him into bed. Because of his shoulder. Which is currently tucked under my arm in a very well-fitting way- FOCUS.

2330 Ha! Escape!

2331 Have pins and needles in arm. Who would have thought he was so heavy?

2332 Put blanket over John.

2335 Probably should not think about hefting flatmate into water bath to prove he is unnaturally dense. Would hate to prove Sally right at this stage in the game.

13th February. Nicotine patches 6 Cigarettes 3

0930 He’s still on the couch all curled up. He’s drooling a little.

0931 He’s using one hand as a pillow. The other is clutching the blanket.

0932 He just rolled into the back of the sofa about 23 degrees. Hmm. Wonder if that means he likes the left side of the bed?

0933 Or if he just likes to snuggle.

0934 Can’t believe just associated the word snuggle with John Watson. Inherently ridiculous word. Snuggle. Snugggggle. Snuuuuggle Snu ggle. Clearly it’s the gle part. If it was ‘snug’ it wouldn’t be nearly as bad. John Watson (who thinks I’m extraordinary) is snugged into the couch.

0935 He’s rolled over about 10 degrees, and it’s made him snore. Little snuffly noises. Whilst snugged into a blanket.

0936 He rolled 160 degrees onto his back, yawned and stretched. Pointed toes, stretched fingers.

0937 Snugs face into pillow, goes back to sleep.

0938 Rolls over 90 degrees. Obviously catches old wound. Sits up and says “Ow.”

0939 “Sherlock, are you watching me sleep?”
“What are you writing?” Oh god.
“Notes. Nothing you’d understand.” Good save.
“A case?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh.” And then he staggered off, rubbing his shoulder.

0945 Made John a cup of tea and aspirin.
“You’re a saviour.”

0948 No one’s ever called me their saviour before.

0951 I am John Watson’s saviour and he thinks I’m extraordinary.

1000 Bored. John is sitting on the couch staring into space. Think I might play violin for a bit.

1145 “Sherlock. If you do not stop. With that damn violin.”
Then what? You have to finish the sentence or it’s not a threat.

1150 Apparently I am a a bloody nuisance.

1151 How can one be a bloody nuisance and a saviour? Does one cancel out the other? Lestrade called with a case. Solved it over the phone. Wish he wouldn’t bore me so.
“Oh, before you go. Is it possible to be a bloody nuisance and a saviour?”
“Trouble in Paradise?” I could hear him smirking. Hate him.
“Just answer the question.”
“In your case, definitely. In fact, I think he’s hit on the perfect description for you.”

1350 Ooh, Valentine’s Day tomorrow.

1351 John is being dull anyway. Went to Speedy’s for fried egg sandwich (which is a crime all by itself) and then has spent quite a lot of today lying on couch watching a movie.

1355 “We’re out of custard creams.”
“Good, get some milk whilst you’re out.”

1420 At shop looking at Valentine’s Day stuff. Why would anyone buy someone else a teddy-bear that says ‘I wuv oo’ when squeezed? Even writing it down causes me pain.

1415 Flowers also seem impractical. I suppose one is trying to say that the recipient is as pretty as a flower. But that also implies that when the prettiness inevitably withers, one will toss aside loved one because usefulness has ended. Seems quite mercenary. Or if one is trying to speak of love, then your love is like a flower? Which also will wilt and die once the initial bloom has worn off. Conclusion: Flowers are expensive and useless. Also show that any good feelings towards Valentine are fleeting at best, and the rest of the time you are just waiting for them to dry up so you can throw them out.

1416 Could give flowers to Mycroft.

1440 Got home and realised had forgotten custard creams.

1445 Text from Molly. ‘Noddy’s asked for a transfer. Corpse exploded on him. Poor boy may never be the same again.’

1447 How do you get a corpse to explode on you? I mean, I’ve managed it but never by accident.

1448 Told John was allowed back at Barts. He cheered. Huh.

1450 Oh. Should get Molly some sort of Valentine’s thing I suppose.

Part II

  • 1

aaaaaaand on to the next one :P

They're all quotes from me, made by intro. I'm that mad.


Loved Sherlock's thoughts on flowers and wanting to give them to Mycroft. And him pretending diary writing was his taking case notes John wouldn't understand! Nice save indeed XD

And more appropriate icons. Brilliant! XD

Poor Sherlock! People are so confusing and he is so straight-forward! He just wants a little cuddling wo his arm going to sleep, and someone to adore him and call him extraordinary. Well, as long as that someone is an ex-army doctor named John Watson :-)

And he is absolutely right about poor February. I've often thought so.

I don't think he knows what he wants most of the time lol.
I always thought February coped okay, clearly I am in the minority.

*Giggle snort*... The National Elf Service... As a Kiwi I feel the whole department is more Mickey Mouse really.

I cannot begin to say in words how much I am loving this fic, the fusion with the whole Bridget Jones Diary things works so well in Sherlock's voice.

Haha I know how you feel. *waves from Quakechurch*
I feel I'm allowed to bag on New Zealand a bit because I live here. :p

I'm so glad you like it though. XD

Look it's very distracting okay? :p
Glad you enjoyed it. xD

You are amazing
This is amazing
I am amazed

Awh, bless you.
So glad you liked it, thanks so much for reading and reviewing, ^_^

In a minute I will stop laughing hysterically, but then my officemates already think I'm mad, so...

'Sherlock. Holmes. Written. As. Bridget Jones' Diary.' 'OMG LET ME SEE.' Two minutes later, wheezing from further down the desk as she tries to stop laughing....

Oh wow, that's so awesome. I'm glad you both liked it so much! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. XD

Mwahaahaaa!! This whole fic is a classic masterpiece in the making!!

...and the "National Elf Service" almost killed me... ROTFL!

Haha I'm so glad you liked it, I'm quite the fan of terrible puns. Thanks so much for reading and reviewing. XD

Damn I love this fic. (Actually, reading it made me write in *my* diary for the first time in a while!)

Seriously though. The bromance between Molly and Sherlock (at first I was skeptical, but her constant chucking things at Sherlock won me over). The rugby shorts. The cigarette count. Sherlock as babysitter. The fact everyone knows. It's all awesome.

Awh, bless you. So pleased you liked it and things, that's awesome. Thanks so much for stopping by and reading and reviewing. ^_^

Wonderful! Been reading them in reverse. They're great fun.

Mad and brilliant!... I love it even more.. I am just squee-ing like an idiot..
I love the nonsense that Sherlock devotes his brain space to (and the fact that it all seems to stem from John).. and the murderous childrens' book characters... and the Molly-Sherlock dynamic...and...
(I may be a bit hysterical)

Ah, wow, I'm so pleased you like it. <3

Oh, 12th February's bouquet of chips. Perfect expression of affection <3

Haha you just know John tried to hand them off to him but they were already kind of cold. ^_^

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