Sherlolly Oneshots

Done For P1

Oh my god you guys.  I am SO SORRY.  These updates are so slow and I apologize greatly.  My phone was being a little beotch for a few days and when I finally got it fixed I started work.  I will be trying to update this as quickly as possible, I'm sorry if there are gaps in between updates.  Please bear with me as I try and find a suitable updating schedule, thank you! 🙌🏻❤️

In other news, got my braces off.  That's always a plus.  And this one was requested by Sherlockian892.  Oh yeah, btw, I'm not publishing both parts at the same time this time.  Lol I'm so cruel.  Be patient my loves.  Enjoy!

~~~

Sherlock Holmes lay on his couch, his eyes closed and fingers steepled under his chin.  He willed himself into the Mind Palace but couldn't help but spare longing glances at the rifle sitting on his counter.

The previous day the (in)famous Sherlock Holmes had solved himself a case that was nearly a seven, and while typically one would find him basking in his glory, Sherlock Holmes was just bored.  Footsteps and hushed murmurs came from downstairs and Sherlock tilted his head to the side, immediately concluding they were John's.

Finally, Sherlock thought, maybe something worth my time.  As John Watson entered the flat, rifling through a thick stack of mail, Sherlock swung his legs off the couch, standing suddenly and making his way over to John.

"Anything interesting?"  He asked, peering over John's shoulder. 

"Fan mail, fan mail, and, oh wait.  Here's one."  John held up a crisp envelope, Sherlock's name written on it in elegant letters.  With a grin he plucked it from John's fingers, studying the envelope carefully.

"Written by a woman, right handed."  Sherlock inspected the envelope, "this handwriting seems so familiar.  I'm not sure why."  John shrugged, tossing the letters on the table.

"Are you going to open it?"

Sherlock wrenched the knife dug into the mantel out of the wood, slowly dragging it across the top of the envelope.  He stuck the knife back in the mantel and pulled out a small piece of paper.

Crocodile crocodile down the drain
Can Peter Pan save Miss Darling again?
Hook is laughing peering down the sink
You'd better hurry, you'll miss it if you blink
The water is flooding through Neverland
The Lost Boys are crying
Their Miss Darling is dead

"What the f..." John's voice trailed off as he peered over Sherlock's shoulder, "do you have any clue what it means?"

A small grin crawled on Sherlock's lips, "not in the slightest." 

"Well someone's in danger, I presume."

"Obviously."

"But who?"

"Wendy Darling, of course."  John groaned and rolled his eyes.  Sherlock's smile grew wider.  This would be interesting.  He turned the paper over, the smile vanished in an instance.

"What does that mean?" John's eyebrows furrowed.  Sherlock sputtered and dropped the paper, his eyes wide.

"Hand me my phone, John," he whispered, staring at the paper on the ground.

"Why?  What does it mean?"

"Just do it.  We have to go."  John handed Sherlock his phone and without hesitation he was gone, grabbing his coat off the hangar with John on his heels.

The paper fluttered in the commotion, lifting slightly. 

Save the One Who Mattered Most, Peter Pan.  I won't make the same mistake again.