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Ariane DeVere
Sherlock fic: Saint Bartholomew 
21st-May-2019 09:29 am
Squee bunny
Title: Saint Bartholomew
Author
: Ariane DeVere
Word count: 221 (+ 221B Author’s Note)
Rating: G (though the AN goes a bit potentially PG)
Warnings, kinks and contents: So much fluff (literally) that it’ll make your teeth rot.


Summary: Sherlock rarely reveals much about his youth. When John finds out something about his childhood and makes a nice gesture, why should Sherlock care? After all, sentiment? Sentiment is a chemical defect found in the losing side.



[Just to put the timing in context, the first two sections take place before the Fall; the last section happens on the day of Sherlock’s return.]


“You took a lot of notice of what the client’s daughter was holding,” John commented. “Did you have one when you were a kid?”

“Yes,” Sherlock admitted, “when I was very young. Mycroft sneered and told me that only little children needed such things. He persuaded me to get rid of it.”

“How old were you?” John asked softly.

Sherlock shrugged. “Five.”

--------------------

“What’s this? We don’t give each other Christmas presents.”

John smiled. “Couldn’t resist; saw it in a shop window. If you hate it, it’s no big deal. You can chuck it out.”

Sherlock’s face was expressionless when he opened the box, and John never saw the contents again. John wasn’t surprised; his instinctive purchase had been stupid.

--------------------

Once Sherlock had convinced a hysterical Mrs Hudson that she wasn’t seeing a ghost, he made his way upstairs. Seeing his home for the first time in two years was such a relief, spoiled only by John’s absence. Apparently he really had got on with his life.

He opened the door to his wardrobe and smiled with delight. Still sitting on the shelf inside was John’s ridiculous gift, proof of their friendship, proof that John cared, the pointless foolish ludicrous and soppy present which Sherlock had tried not to love but nevertheless did, and had named accordingly.

Saint Bartholomew the teddy bear.



The 221B Author’s Note

I’m sure there have been many other fanfics where Sherlock had a much-loved teddy bear, either as a child or later as an adult, but I was watching something over the weekend (I can’t even remember what, now), saw a teddy as part of the background and had a moment of not-very-original inspiration.

And then while I was thinking about a 221B ficlet (it had to be a 221 with such an obvious ‘b’ word at the end), I realised that if John gave Sherlock a bear, Sherlock would behave as if he wasn’t interested but would secretly be thrilled, and would name it in honour of the place where he and John first met.

I rarely write G-rated fic (mostly because I have a filthy mind, and also because I’ll ship the boys ’til my dying day), but if you’re feeling kind (and if you also have a filthy/shippy mind) I’m sure you can understand that, had I had more than 221 words to play with, Sherlock would have grabbed Bartholomew, gone round to John’s flat and stood outside holding up the bear and looking mournful until John broke off his relationship with Mary, packed his bags, dragged Sherlock home and the two of them didn’t leave the bedroom for days.

Actually, John probably wouldn’t stop to pack his bags.



Additional note: This was meant to be a silly one-off ficlet, but comments from some of my readers on AO3 inspired an idea for more chapters.

On to Chapter 2


Comments 
21st-May-2019 10:57 am (UTC)
"...Sherlock would have grabbed Bartholomew, gone round to John’s flat and stood outside holding up the bear and looking mournful until John broke off his relationship with Mary, packed his bags, dragged Sherlock home and the two of them didn’t leave the bedroom for days."

Most definitely!!

It was a lovely tale, though; I'm delighted you're still writing in this fandom!!
21st-May-2019 11:29 am (UTC)
Aww, thank you, honey! I don't get inspired as often as I would like, but it's lovely when I suddenly get an "Oooh!" moment and dive for the nearest keyboard and/or notebook.

I wasn't sure that this one was the best idea and that it was overly fluffy, but then I thought, "Don't care," and went with it anyway. I suspect, however, that the majority of readers will be more excited by the suggestions in the Author's Note!
21st-May-2019 09:16 pm (UTC)
Awwwww thank you so much.
22nd-May-2019 08:04 am (UTC)
Glad you liked it!
21st-May-2019 10:03 pm (UTC)
Rating: G (though the AN goes a bit potentially PG)
PG??? Ooooooh, you saucy girl! :D

He persuaded me to get rid of it.
Mycroft, you heartless bastard.

Saint Bartholomew the teddy bear.
Awww... Also, it's a good thing Sherlock and John didn't meet at Westminster Public Mortuary.

had I had more than 221 words to play with, Sherlock would have grabbed Bartholomew, gone round to John’s flat and stood outside holding up the bear and looking mournful until John broke off his relationship with Mary, packed his bags, dragged Sherlock home and the two of them didn’t leave the bedroom for days.
Aaaaah, I love this idea! And hey, now that the 221B is done you can have all the words you want, don't you? ;-)

Actually, John probably wouldn’t stop to pack his bags.
Ooooh, that's the reason why he keeps his shirts folded... ready to pack. It's obvious now.

It's lovely to hear from you again and I can't wait to read this 20,000-word story about Sherlock camping under John's windows! :D
22nd-May-2019 08:19 am (UTC)
You know how normally I would respond to a comment like your last sentence with, "Yeah, like that's gonna happen" and my constant refrain of "I don't do sequels"?

Ahem. *braces self* It might happen. Not the camping under the window but a couple of people commenting on the AO3 version of this story made some wonderful suggestions about what might have happened between the second and third sections of the story, and VerityBun pricked up her ears and said excitedly, "Ooh, that would make a great angst story!" and nibbled the heck out of my toes. She loves angst. Sadly she doesn't love writing angst - just prompts me like crazy and then buggers off and leaves me to it.

But ... yeah ... a second chapter might happen. I'm sure it won't make it to 20,000 words, but it's likely to be longer than a 221. And if I get it right it'll break your heart, so just be careful what you wish for!

And, dammit, that bloody bunny is already murmuring, "You know, if you do do this sequel ... well, it's not a sequel, it's more a prequel ... actually, it happens in the middle, so are we about to invent the midquel? ... anyway, Mum (do stop trying to distract me, you know it never works), once you've torn everyone's hearts out, you do realise that you'll have to put it right and do a proper sequel with a happy ending, don't you, Mum?"

And there was me thinking I would be able to have a quiet night in bank holiday weekend, watching a DVD.
22nd-May-2019 07:55 pm (UTC)
And if I get it right it'll break your heart, so just be careful what you wish for!
THIS IS NOT WHAT I WISHED FOR. On the other hand, I totally wish for the proper sequel, the one with a happy ending, so I guess I'll have to read the whole thing. But only if there's an author's note in the angsty midquel, saying, "No don't cry it's okay wait for the fluffy next part." You won't fool me again, DeVere.
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