Sherlock invents the Infinite Improbability Drive. Unfortunately, he can't figure out how to turn it off.

In which Sherlock is a violinist and consulting composer who writes the pieces his clients are too dim to ask for, and John is an ex-army doctor and handy amateur clarinettist. Together they make music. A story containing deductive inferences, music for adrenaline junkies, and the development of an unforeseen relationship. Pre-slash.

These are the principal parts of John and Sherlock's love: amo-amare-amavi-amatum. Or: in which Sherlock returns from death, and is presumptuous; in which John really does love Sherlock, but has trouble telling his friends and family; and in which neither John nor Sherlock screw things up too badly.

After just the right amount of rain, the clay gets slick and silty; makes mud that's soft like butter. It doesn't quite reflect the sunlight, but sifts it through organic matter to cultivate germane maybes.

Blog-based bulletin 'bout baffling bakery burglary. Bonus buzz: boffin and blogger's [BLEEP] boldly bruited. Broadly'B'-beginnings.

Harry considers things that make an impression on him throughout the course of his day. Eventually – inevitably – his thoughts turn to Draco Malfoy. Post DH, EWE

In which Harry vanquishes Voldemort with fibrous leafy green vegetables, and Draco proves his love for Harry. A follow up to 'Perpendicular'.

Harry misguidedly calls an angular git 'perpendicular'. Pointed and provocative wordplay ensues. They square their differences in the end.