Date: Friday, May 25th, 2012 18:14 (UTC)
roane: (Default)
From: [personal profile] roane
The week wasn't bad. I TECHNICALLY haven't posted yet today, but I'm just waiting for a second look from one of my betas and then I'll be posting the next chapter. Whee! Scary to think I'm over halfway through with this story now. Four more chapters (and possibly an epilogue) to go! Drafted word count is currently just over 40,000 words. Phew. :)

Annnnd, a snippet from today's chapter. Short backstory: Pull the Stars from the Sky is a Sherlock AU where Sherlock is a rock star, John, still ex-military, is his tour manager, and there's a problem with a stalker roaming about.

**************************************
"John, the photos—"

"I know." He breathed out through his nose, mouth a thin line. "Might've used a telephoto lens, but it doesn't look like it. The fucker was right behind me. And I missed it. Look. This was after the show in Seattle. Which means he was right behind you, and I fucking missed it." John dropped the photo and pushed past Sherlock to pace the room. "How could I have missed that?" He stopped pacing and reached for his phone. "Fuck this. We need more security. Harry can goddamn well eat the cost. The alternative is not acceptable."

"John—"

"What."

"You don't have to do this alone."

"You don't get it, do you." John stood still, mobile still in his hand. "This is what I am trained to do. And I failed. This sodding lunatic got close enough to touch you."

"But he didn't."

"Because we got lucky. Fuck that." John threw his mobile onto the bed. "No more after-show appearances. You go from the hotel to the green room to the stage and back again. If I get any sense that something is off, we cancel the show."

"John."

John whirled on him, eyes blazing. "If anything is off, you're not leaving the bloody hotel room. No more interviews, no more—"

"John." Sherlock stepped over and took him by the shoulders. "You say you have a job to do. Well so do I. You have to let me do it."

"I can't—" John lowered his head, hands clenching and unclenching as he half-turned away. "I can't fail someone else." He refused to meet Sherlock's eyes.
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