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221b_recs2012-06-20 04:44 pm
misplaced-exile.livejournal.com) wrote in 221b_recs2012-06-20 04:44 pm
Fic Rec: Breakfast at 221B
Title: Breakfast at 221B
Author: AJHall
Pairing: Gen., somewhat Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Length: 2885 words
Rating: M
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary:
"Anyway. Enough of my embarrassing sibling brothel stories. Tell me yours."
A Sherlock conversation, over breakfast.
Reccer's comments: I have no idea how this hasn't been recced before, as it's a beautiful, brilliant one-shot that seems much longer than it actually is because it is so full of emotions and touches on a wide range of subjects (especially for a fic that is essentially one conversation between John and Sherlock over breakfast). It's absurd and meaningful and a little bit sad and I don't really have the words for this fic, just the language and the dialogue and the characterization is amazing and spot-on. As well, this is a fic that touches on the subject of Sherlock's asexuality, which is not something you see all that often. I can't recommend this enough!
Excerpt: "Mycroft spent £3478 on prostitutes over the last month," Sherlock said. "And fourpence. Why fourpence, do you suppose? Can hardly be VAT. Oh. Obvious." There came the sound of tapping on a keyboard. "Tripartite summit in Dublin last week. Eurozone. Currency conversion."
John contemplated life from behind the mercifully ample pages of the Observer. Clearly he was in for a Sherlock conversation. He could not, if asked, have defined how "a Sherlock conversation" differed from "a conversation with Sherlock", but he knew the difference between the two was as wide as the gap which supposedly yawned between genius and madness. He could tell the difference between those, too. At least when the wind was southerly.
"Poor sods," he said. "Hope they got danger money."
Author: AJHall
Pairing: Gen., somewhat Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Length: 2885 words
Rating: M
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary:
"Anyway. Enough of my embarrassing sibling brothel stories. Tell me yours."
A Sherlock conversation, over breakfast.
Reccer's comments: I have no idea how this hasn't been recced before, as it's a beautiful, brilliant one-shot that seems much longer than it actually is because it is so full of emotions and touches on a wide range of subjects (especially for a fic that is essentially one conversation between John and Sherlock over breakfast). It's absurd and meaningful and a little bit sad and I don't really have the words for this fic, just the language and the dialogue and the characterization is amazing and spot-on. As well, this is a fic that touches on the subject of Sherlock's asexuality, which is not something you see all that often. I can't recommend this enough!
Excerpt: "Mycroft spent £3478 on prostitutes over the last month," Sherlock said. "And fourpence. Why fourpence, do you suppose? Can hardly be VAT. Oh. Obvious." There came the sound of tapping on a keyboard. "Tripartite summit in Dublin last week. Eurozone. Currency conversion."
John contemplated life from behind the mercifully ample pages of the Observer. Clearly he was in for a Sherlock conversation. He could not, if asked, have defined how "a Sherlock conversation" differed from "a conversation with Sherlock", but he knew the difference between the two was as wide as the gap which supposedly yawned between genius and madness. He could tell the difference between those, too. At least when the wind was southerly.
"Poor sods," he said. "Hope they got danger money."