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Requested by chriscalledmesweetie

Sherlock had never tried baking before but it didn’t seem like it should be difficult. After all, it was nothing but chemistry.

The recipes, however, had clearly been devised by imbeciles with no idea what they were doing. Some correction was required.

When John came home to a kitchen absolutely covered in every type of sugar imaginable, he blinked in astonishment and said, “What did you do?”

“This is your fault,” Sherlock said immediately. “You said you wanted some Christmas sweets, so…” Sherlock gestured to the sugar all around. “There. Sweetness,” he grumbled.

John, after a moment, burst out laughing.
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Requested by [personal profile] puddlesontherocks 

When they ventured forth onto the planet, Rose remarked, “They’ve got candy canes for fences, and gumdrops for roofs, and—hang on, is this icing? Is this a gingerbread house world?”

“Is it icing?” the Doctor asked, frowning at what had at first appeared to be snow on the candy cane fence.

Rose held a bit out on her finger for him to lick, catching her tongue between her teeth teasingly.

Which was when the door’s licorice-looking door swung open and its inhabitant shouted, “Oi! Are you eating my house?”

“Run,” the Doctor whispered to Rose, and grabbed her hand.
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Requested by [personal profile] perditorian 

Once the double heartbeat of a Time Lord had been a constant drumming warning in her head.

Now when she encountered it, it was in her children, their warm psychic connection against her.

Athena loved the comfort of those double heartbeats, as did Matt.

“I’m confused with human patients now,” he joked as he got ready for bed. “I think they only have half a heart.”

“Oh, no,” Athena said, crawling into bed with him for his nearness. “I know from experience, that one heartbeat is the biggest one.” She laid her ear on his chest just to hear it.
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Requested by mayerwien

“There’s nothing for it,” said Nicholas. “We’ll just have to give in and stop at a McDonald’s.”

“A McDonald’s,” said Elliot, stricken. “How far we have fallen. Our lives might as well be over.”

“Stop it, would you,” said Nicholas good-naturedly.

“We have no dignity left. I hope no one I know sees me.”

“What would anyone you know be doing at a McDonald’s?” asked Nicholas, amused.

Elliot made a dramatic noise of intense existential suffering.

Nicholas said, “So I assume you don’t want anything from McDonald’s?”

“I want a Big Mac, fries, and a chocolate shake,” Elliot answered immediately.

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Requested by [personal profile] azriona 

“It’s annoying,” Oliver proclaimed.

Annoying was Oliver’s favorite word. He wasn’t Sherlock Holmes’s clone for nothing.

“Of course it is,” Sherlock agreed.

“You don’t even know what he’s talking about,” said John. “What’s annoying, Ollie?”

“The Arctic is amazing. Permafrost has an incredible amount of dead plant and animal material that is trapped carbon and methane.”

“That seems exactly like the sort of thing you love,” John said. “Why is that annoying?”

Oliver pouted. “At school all they want to talk about it how it’s where Father Christmas lives.”

“Told you school was a waste of his time,” said Sherlock.
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Requested by [personal profile] rifleman_s 

“I don’t dream,” Sherlock announced loftily.

“You don’t dream?” echoed John.

“Dreaming is a waste of valuable time,” Sherlock sniffed. “A waste of mental energy and resources.”

“How do you control what your brain does while you’re sleeping?”

“Oh, please,” Sherlock scoffed. “It’s simple. I strive for productive sleep during which my brain mulls over the most important details of the previous few days and categorizes them properly in my mind palace for future efficient retrieval.”

John lifted his eyebrows. “And to think,” he said lazily, “all I aim for when I sleep is a good dream about shagging you.”
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Requested by niakantorka

The twentieth time Eames fell and Arthur helped him up, he said in exasperation, “I thought you knew how to ice skate!”

“Why would you think that?” asked Eames, clinging to him.

“Because you were the one who insisted we come ice skating! You wouldn’t shut up about it!”

“I’ve never been ice skating in my life. I just thought it looked romantic. And I didn’t think it would be difficult.”

“You’re an idiot,” Arthur said. “This is the opposite of romantic.”

“You’re not finding my ineptitude endearingly sexy?”

“Let’s go be romantic over hot cocoa instead.”

“Brilliant,” Eames agreed.

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Requested by mary_jane221b

“We’re doing Christmas wrong,” Lucky announced.

Arthur lifted his eyebrows at her. “Really? Because Santa always brings you plenty of presents.”

“The songs talk about sleigh bells,” Lucky complained. “Have you ever once heard sleigh bells on Christmas? We don’t even get snow! We’re doing it totally wrong.”

“She’s right,” said Eames unhelpfully. “Christmas should have snow.”

“Well, what the fuck,” said Arthur, and put money in the curse jar to make up for it. “Our families are in England and California.”

“We should take everyone to Switzerland,” Eames proposed.

And that was how Lucky got her Christmas sleigh bells.

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Last night I had a dream that went like this: 

I went to an improv show. I didn't really want to be there but I went anyway. The man sitting in the row behind me kept running his fingers through my hair. I didn't want him to do that, so I leaned forward to try to dissuade him. He also leaned forward so he could still reach my hair. Finally I turned around and demanded that he stop touching me, and immediately everyone in the audience frowned at me for disrupting the show, and the man was like, "Wow, way to super-overreact, you could have just told me you didn't want me to do that, you didn't have to make a scene." 

I then was enlisted to take part in the improv, even though I didn't want to. For no real reason that I could discern, I was given the task of pretending to repair a door. I went about my task, and was immediately criticized for the poor job I was doing of pretending to repair a door, with people coming up to show me how I could pretend in a more realistic and entertaining fashion. 

Then the improv group decided they didn't feel like performing the rest of the show and basically headed off the stage, leaving me alone, when I never even wanted to do the improv in the first place. 

Soooo I think I'm working through some stuff. 

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