**Title:**The Least of All Possible Mistakes, Pt 11

**Rating:**R, for violence

**Summary:**(BBC Sherlock, genderfuck) In which everything ends.

Happy reading. If you'll excuse me,

**leupagus**and I have some drinking to do.

You're viewing rageprufrock's journalCreate a Dreamwidth Account Learn More | light | Reload page in style:

Happy reading. If you'll excuse me,

Nobody is more horrified than I am that I ended up writing this.

The first section is up today for your reading pleasure, and we'll be updating every day Monday through Friday going forward. Go check it out, tell all your friends and anybody you hate enough to force them to read it, obviously.

ETERNAL THANKS and HATRED goes to

Happy reading! And many, many thanks to

Many, many, many, infinite thanks go to

Enormous, enormous thanks to

MANY THANKS again to

Happy reading! And apologies in advance, I'll be traveling next weekend so no update until the following one.

Happy reading! And thanks again to

For the record, I think the completed version of this will probably clock in somewhere between 70K-80K, so guessing eight chapters in total. For everyone keeping count at home, total wordcount on my file is currently at 47,912. That's 47,912 words when I probably should have been sleeping.

Anyway, happy reading!

Happy reading! Thanks again to

This is my, "What if Gregory Lestrade was Georgiana instead?" exploration, seeded by insomnia, encouraged ruthlessly by

Happy reading, part 2 is in the can and should be coming next week.

Let's talk. I know that in our long years together, I have not been particularly good to you. Between the constant barrage of guilt and judgment, the vast oceans of alcohol consumed between the ages of 17 and 25, and the occasional cigarettes (+ half pack from last week) and you know some other stuff whatever I have not been the greatest of caretakers.

But let's get this straight: if I get sick now, if I get sick less than 18 hours before I get onto a plane to go to San Francisco and cry and sleep and finally exhale for the first time in forever, you and me, we're through. I'm moving to the astral plane and sleeping on Snape's couch.

Am I being clear?

Good. Now, let me go moisturize something.

Kisses, Pru.

So far, 27 looks pretty much like 26, except odd-numbered. Maybe this smarter with age thing happens in increments -- so tiny I won't even notice until I find myself turning down that fifth shot, even though it's free. But you know, unlikely.

The real question is: next time this year, what country am I even going to be in?

- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 11 and Epilogue (COMPLETE)
- Fic: Disentanglement
- Hey guys, guess what? I wrote a book.
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 10/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 9/?
- [fic] The Least of All Possible Mistakes Pt 8/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 7/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 6/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 5/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 4/?
- Valentines!
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 3/?
- Least of All Possible Mistakes, pt 2/?
- Fic! The Least of All Possible Mistakes
- Get in the car, losers, we're going to California.
- Of course.
- Sherlocking.
- Are you fucking kidding me?
- meme! stolen from just fucking everybody
- As I always say: a year older, not at all wiser!

No cut tags