sherlockbbc_fic | Prompting Part XXXIV

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Prompting Part XXXIV

S3 SPOILER POLICY
THE MEME NEEDS ARCHIVISTS!

GUIDELINES

Anon posting is not required, but most definitely allowed. If you think you recognise an anon, keep it to yourself and don’t out them. IP tracking is off, and will remain that way.

Multiple fills are encouraged, and all kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance — whatever. Go wild! :D

Don’t reprompt until TWO parts after the last posting of the prompt.

RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme.

Concrit is welcome, but kinkshaming, hijacking, and flaming are not tolerated.

THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
When you fill a prompt, please use the appropriate Filled Prompts Post to archive your fill (there are instructions on the actual post).

If the part you wanted isn't up yet, just wait and one of the archivists will get to it, but please, once it is up, make sure you post your fills there according to the guidelines. DO NOT skip out on doing this because it seems like too much effort. If you want your fill to make it to the Delicious archive, that’s the way to do it.

Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! The mods will be happy to explain.

WARNINGS/OFFENSIVE WORDING IN PROMPTS
Please consider warning for prompts that may trigger people (and also for fills, because some people read in flat view) and phrasing prompts in a manner that strives to be respectful.

Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

That being said, this is a kink meme. As such, there will be prompts that could offend you in a number of different ways. Not every prompt will have a trigger warning, and not every prompt will rub you the right way. If you have an issue with a specific prompt, feel free to bring it up in a discussion that takes place off the meme. However, flaming will not be tolerated regardless of origin.

You are highly encouraged to scroll past any prompt that you dislike.

Remember: be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

THINGS THAT MAKE BROWSING THE MEME EASIER FOR EVERYONE
Please nest your fills. Doing so will make it easier for archivists to save your fills to the Delicious archive. Using subject lines will also help people reading the meme in flatview keep track of what’s happening. Finally, titling your fills (even if it’s something silly) will be helpful to those tracking a lot of prompts or scrolling through the meme.

PROMPT FREEZES
Depending on the rate of activity, there may or may not be a prompt freeze when a part reaches 2000 and 4500 comments. However, there will be one when it reaches 7000. After the 7000 comments freeze, a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.

CONTACTING MODS
Your mods for this meme are

ellie_hell,

anonspock and

anonbach. If you have any questions, concerns, comments about anything at all on the meme feel free to send a PM or contact us via the Page-A-Mod post.

MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES

sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.

sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.

sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.

sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

NOTICE: All links on the meme are now being screened because of spambot issues. When you submit a comment containing a link, it will be marked as spam. Please don't worry, the mods will unscreen it as soon as they can.

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"Mary...?"
She froze at the sound of her name, blood turning to ice as she recognized the voice.
No...please God, no...
Keeping her gun trained on Mangussen, she glanced hesitantly over her shoulder.
John Watson stood in the doorway, confusion and horror in his expression, his eyes locked on her.
Panic.
Mary felt every one of her muscles lock up, a burning pain searing its way across her temples as pure terror seized her.
Why was John here? He wasn't supposed to be here, he wasn't supposed to find out about her...
Her breath was caught in her lungs, and she had to work her throat for a second before she was able to gulp a breath of air.
"John...?" Her voice was a strangled whisper.
John shouldn't be here. He was supposed to be on a case with Sherlock...
Sherlock who was dating Janine.
If she hadn't been too horrified to move, she could have hit herself for her mistake.
Sherlock was after Mangussen, they must be here tonight to look for the blackmail material he had.
"M-mary...?" John's voice broke, the sadness beginning to show in his eyes as he stumbled a step forward.
Before she could think, instinct took over and she found herself facing her husband, her gun pointed squarely at John's chest.
Gasping down another breath, she forcibly lowered the gun, pointing the barrel at the floor.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice trembling, vision swimming before her eyes. She blinked to clear it, feeling hot tears sear across the suddenly cold skin on her cheeks.
John huffed a breath, looking around the room briefly before focusing his gaze back on her.
"I get it. This is a joke. Another of Sherlock's ruses, and he's dragged you into it, yeah?"
A sob escaped her lips as she closed her eyes, shaking her head.
John's stare never left her, unable to comprehend what he was seeing.
"Mary, what are you...why? Why are..." He struggled to find words, taking another step toward her, and Mary stepped back, matching him pace for pace.
"John, please, listen to me," she begged, "I'll explain, I swear, but you need to leave. Now."
"Wh-what? No! No, Mary, I'm not...I'm not leaving until you tell me just what the hell is going on."
A small, helpless noise escaped her lips, and she tilted her head back slightly, blinking in a desperate attempt to stem her tears.
From somewhere behind her, Mangussen chuckled darkly. Without thinking, she spun, bringing the side of her gun across his face HARD.
The man's glasses went flying as he crumpled to the ground from the blow, red blossoming across his bony cheek even before he'd hit the floor. She heard John's strangled cry of surprise at seeing his gentle, loving wife pistol whip someone, but she didn't turn back around, unable to meet his eyes as she whispered "Please, John, just leave" and fled from the room.

She ran down the hallway that she'd come through not five minutes ago, John calling her name from behind her.
She had to get away. She couldn't face him.
Mary heard his footsteps, heavy on the floor, growing closer.
John had always been a bit faster than her.
"Mary! Mary, stop!" he cried, voice close, and she rounded a corner into a waiting room, slamming the door behind her and dragging a chair to prop beneath the handle. The wood rattled as John's weight hit the other side, and the chair skidded half an inch.
Not waiting to see if her barrier would hold, she turned and ran again.
"Sherlock!" another bang against the door as she crossed the room, "Sherlock stop her!"
A crash echoed behind her as the chair gave way and the door flew open. John's footsteps once again following her.
Mary had barely turned into the next hallway when she just about ran into someone.
Sherlock skidded to a stop barely a foot in front of her and Mary halted her own progress sharply to avoid running into him.
The detective stared at her in shock, eyes slowly widening. He was piecing things together, eyes darting as he took in her appearance, her expression, her gun and silencer.
"Mary..." he whispered, eyes narrowing.
Hearing John round the corner behind her with a shout for Sherlock to grab her, Mary made a sharp move to dodge around the dark haired man, but the detective was faster than she'd expected.
A sharp pressure closed around her wrist and for a moment she was disoriented as Sherlock hauled her back none to gently, tossing her into John's arms. She lurched forward in a blind panic, trying to escape, but they were both on her, backing her up, pinning her to the wall, restraining her wrists up by her shoulders with their free arms cris-crossing her middle like a seatbelt.
John relieved her of her weapon, Sherlock pulling off her knit hat, and it was all Mary could do to keep from sobbing as they picked apart her disguise, leaving her in her day clothes with a bulletproof vest and a pile of gear at her feet.
"Start. Talking." John snarled, tightening his grip on her threateningly.
Mary choked back a small sob as her knees gave out, the two men taking her full weight and bracing her firmly against the wall.
"Mary, why are you here?" Sherlock hissed, "Where's Mangussen?"
"Suffering from a concussion in the other room, most likely. What are you, playing assassin?" John all but shouted at her.
Mary shook her head, clenching her trembling hands into fists as she tried to pull her wits back together - a task that was made much harder by the two furious men that currently pinned her up against the wall.
"Please..." she whispered, her voice breaking, "please, John, I swear I'll explain, but we have to get out of here..."
John took a sharp breath, but Sherlock cut him off.
"She's right. We can't have this conversation here."
He reached into a pocket, pulling out a pair of police handcuffs. Before Mary could even struggle, Sherlock had fastened one around her wrist and the other around John's. The detective then released her, stepping back to gather her vest and equipment.
"Let's go."

Mary didn't look up as Sherlock hailed a cab, John's hand tight around her wrist, hiding the cold metal of the handcuffs from any prying eyes on the street. Sherlock got into the cab first, John holding the door and nodding for Mary to get in next. She carefully slipped into the back seat as Sherlock barked "221 Baker Street" at the driver. John settled in beside her, pulling her seatbelt down and handing it to Sherlock to clip in before he fastened his own.
As the cab pulled away, John focused his attention out the window.
Sherlock, however, focused his attention on her, analyzing.
She looked down at her feet, trying to think only about taking one slow breath at a time.
What was she going to tell them? How was she going to explain any of this without the pair of them turning her in? Would they even believe that she was trying to protect them?
It was safe to say that John was already assuming the worst, while Sherlock was probably deducing something close to the truth from her equipment, which he currently had stuffed beneath his coat.
Throughout the ride, John kept glancing back at her, something akin to rage in his eyes. Each time he did so, Mary shrank in on herself further.
She'd blown this whole thing beautifully...
The trip back to Baker Street seemed to take forever, but at last they reached the familiar flat.
John pulled her out of the car after him as Sherlock paused to pay the driver.
Her husband strode into the house, fury radiating from him, and Mary stumbled to keep up.
"John?" Mrs Hudson asked, poking her head out of the kitchen as Sherlock closed the front door with a bang. "Mary! Oh, Sherlock, what is going on?"
"Mrs Hudson, do you remember me telling you to prepare the downstairs flat for certain special guests?"
"Yes, dear, I finished that weeks ago. Whatever would you need-"
"Excellent," Sherlock cut her off. "John, bring her here."
Mary only had time to glance at Mrs Hudson in fright, eyes pleading for help, before John dragged her to the closed door of 221C.
Sherlock fished a key from somewhere on top of the door frame and unlocked the room, throwing the door wide.
The room was dark, and Sherlock took a step inside, feeling for the light switch as Mrs Hudson bustled fretfully up behind them.
"What is going on? Why are you two handcuffed together?"
"Not now, Mrs Hudson," John growled, giving Mary's wrist a sharp tug as Sherlock found the switch and light flooded the room.
Save for a bed, a small table, and a chair, the room was empty. The window had been bricked over, everything extraneous removed.
John crossed over to where Sherlock was digging through his coat pockets by the bed.
A sharp twist of John's body tossed her onto the mattress, and his hand grasped her shoulder, pinning her down.
Sherlock produced a key moments later, unlocking John's side of the handcuffs before re-fastening it to the headboard of the bed.
"Upstairs." he muttered, taking Mrs Hudson by the shoulders and turning her around before marching her out of the room.
Mary sat up sharply, leaping to her feet and following them as far as the cuffs would allow her to.
"J-john?"
Her husband stopped in the doorway, head turning slightly to glance at her over his shoulder.
"No, Mary. You stay here until we figure out what to do with you."
As he turned out the lights and slammed the door, Mary fell back onto the bed, blackness surrounding her as she heard the key turn in the lock.
Trembling, she curled up on the mattress, and with the slightly dusty smell of the comforter filling her nose, she broke down.

"Would one of you boys please tell me what's going on?" Mrs Hudson demanded as they climbed the stairs to Sherlock's sitting room. "Why is Mary locked up in the flat downstairs?"
"Because, Mrs Hudson" Sherlock sighed, exasperated, "She is an assassin and I am not leaving her free to roam until I know her motives."
"An assassin?" the landlady breathed, hand fluttering to her heart.
"Ex-assassin, actually. I suspect that her entire persona is false, either in an attempt to get close to a target, or - most likely, because she's been undercover for years now - she's on the run. In hiding. Her vest? Dust in the creases. Hasn't been used in a while. Her gun has recently been cleaned, within the past few hours I'd say by the smell of it. Furthermore, finding her confronting Mangussen implies that he has something on her, probably something very serious that could compromise-...John?"
Sherlock paused, turning to his best friend who had sunk into his chair, face buried in his hand.
The doctor took a shuddering breath, pausing for another few seconds before looking up.
"She's my wife, Sherlock. I married her."
"Well, all marriages take a bit of getting used to..."
"NO, Sherlock. This isn't something that I can just 'get used to'. Mary lied to me about everything. I know nothing about her... I'm married to a stranger in my wife's body..."
"John. It will do neither of us any good to fret about that now. We have more pressing matters to see to. We need to figure out what Mangussen has on her."
John let out another sigh, burying his face in both his hands.
Mrs Hudson placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, one hand worrying the collar of her jacket.
"Sherlock, you don't think Mary is dangerous, do you?" she asked.
The detective paused his pacing, glancing the landlady from head to toe.
"No, I do not believe she is an immediate threat to any of us."
Mrs Hudson let out a small sigh of relief, turning to go prepare tea for all of them.
Sherlock pulled up his laptop and fired off a quick text to Mycroft as he opened a number of browser windows and began typing like a madman.
"John, I need to know everything you know about Mary."

When John made his way back downstairs a number of hours later to check on Mary (his worry finally getting the better of him) he found her sleeping, curled up on her side with her arm twisted uncomfortably over her head by the handcuffs.
With a small sigh, John fished out the key and freed her from the cuffs, arranging her limbs around her gently and taking off her shoes. She stirred slightly but did not wake.
He cupped her face gently in his hands, using his thumbs to brush off the lingering tears before he leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, muttering gently into her short blonde hair "I swear that I am going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what the outcome. And you had just better hope that you've got a very, VERY good reason for lying to me, Mary Watson, or this may not end well for you."
With that he straightened, leaving the room quietly and locking the door behind him.

Moar please!

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