freakygal505

Based on that music video by that ballet thing with the song. If you have yet to see that, the link will be in the description below if I can remember. Yes its short, but eh. Yes, AU. Enjoy!
    Phil was walking through the forest, following the music he had heard from his apartment. It carried him to an empty building with music pouring out. The walls outside were white wood with large windows letting in the sunlight, making it look like it was glowing. Take me to church was being played and Phil, being curious as usual looked in through a window, and that's when he saw him. He had hair like tree bark and deep brown eyes that can melt you like the chocolate his eyes resembled. He wore tights skin color, a tan color, matching his topless torso, showing his slightly muscular form doused with sweat. He threw himself around, his jumps through the air perfect, his toes pointed so and he seemed to slow down time in the air. Phil couldn't help but stare on as he danced, his jaw dropped ever so slightly. He would spin, his hair whipping around and that brilliant, breathless smile slipping upon his face. Phil smiled slightly, watching as this mysterious man danced, each move with a passion and spoke out in ways some words could never do justice of. At the end of the song he fell to his knees, and  all went silent. The mans head rose up, a smile spread across his face with a deep dimple on one cheek. Phil could feel his own lips form a grin just from seeing the joy this dancer expressed. He step back slightly, and a large snap rings through the forest. The dancer's smile vanishes as he leaps up, head whipping around to find the intruder while Phil went down to hide from sight. He peeked out of the corner of the window to see the dancer turned away, walking slowly to the door, a bat (like from baseball, not an animal) held tightly in his grip. Phil, turned and sneaked away, going below the windows view around the other way.
     He had made it a good distance away when a cry of "hey! " resounded through the forest, followed by crunching leaves and into view is the dancer. Phil turns around from him and runs, as fast as he coulld through the deep woods back towards his home. He glanced behind him to find the dancer, now not holding his weapon, get closer, a confused look upon his face. Phil turns back and keeps running until he slips under the rain-soaken leaves bellow. The man catches up and asks "Are you alright?" His voice was gentle and Phil felt his hands gently grab him around his waist and pull him up off the slightly damp floor of the autumn forest. "S-sorry, I-i had heard music from my a-apartment and I-i was curious..." Phil spoke quickly, his eyes staring down at the crumpled leaves of orange and red around them in a million shades. "Its fine, I just thought it was someone dangerous, that's all." the man replied, and Phil looked up to see a soft smile on his lips. Ignoring the heat that flared upon his cheeks and ears as he looked down, he said "You dance amazingly..." "Th-thanks... I've always loved to dance, but I don't think I'm that good..." Phil looked up to see red upon the dancer's cheeks, his dimple deeply embeded inside the reddened cheek. "I think you are..." Phil said, staring at the dancer. The dancer looked up, his eyes glittering with pride until a puzzeled look took his face. "Have I seen you before?... Wait a second, you're Phil Lester. Oh my god, I watch your dance videos and the nerdier ones too!" The dancer's smile was contagious as it spread to Phil's face, and Phil nodded. "Hi, I'm Dan, Daniel Howell, a fan of yours." the dancer said. And that was how the Phan dancing duo began.

“A woman is a woman an' a man ain't nothin' but a male... oh yes A woman is a woman an' a man ain't nothin' but a male...and the One good thing about Jim is He knows how to jive an' wail” Jim wouldn't have believed what he was watching if he hadn't been there seeing it in person. His Seb, dancing to some old song and singing along. He would have burst out laughing if he wasn't so shocked. “Oh, you gotta jump, jive, an' then you wail, You gotta jump, jive, an' then you wail, You gotta jump, jive, an' then you wa-WHAT THE FUCK! ” Sebastian screamed the last bit and soon a gun was in Jim's face, 'bout an inch away. “So, my little Songbird, what are you doing?” “Hello Jim.”, Sebastian says, still not moving the gun, an angry glare that could be lethal if not for the red flush covering his skin. “That never happened, swear or its your life.” “Fine”, Jim groaned like the sociopath 3-year old he is. “But you have amazing singing talents. What was that song anyway?” In his haste the song stopped, mostly because he shot the speakers his IPod was on. “While in Afghanistan, I was around fellow Americans and someone showed me the song. I have a favoritism towards the older jazz stuff, or screaming punk stuff, like Chemical Romance. Oh, and that Jump Jive An' Wail by Brian Setzer, not that you care.” Sebastian rolled his eyes as Jim made a noise of shock like “oh no you didn't” in a hmpf way. “What are you doing, besides singing and dancing- which never happened!” (a gun towards the face can really change your mind, specially since they met by Seb's shooting him, on accident, of course. That’s a story for later.) “Cooking, and before you ask, its for Thanksgiving, like in America. You will eat and celebrate with me, And no complaining, 'Kay?” The look on Seb's face said ' you will not argue and live at the same time', and for Jim, it was the wrong day to die. Especially because last time he 'died', he saw Moran on that roof... “ugh, FINE!”

Moriarty was on the couch, shooting at the ceiling. Luckily, after a while of living with Jim, Seb had gotten a shooting pad, bullet-proof windows, a silencer on the gun and still wore the bullet proof clothing from war, just in case. Sometimes, he'd put a fake body up there with real blood if Jim was being good. Today, he wasn't. As Seb was mashing potatoes, his music playing on Jim's speakers, Jim was complaining, and trying to remove the silencer. Finally, after shooting at the target enough, he tossed down the gun and wandered to the kitchen. Another jazzy song was just finishing as another song popped up. It began piano, like an older tune your grandparents in America played. And the guy started singing, similar to a carnival style, and Seb sang along. “Well they encourage your complete cooperation. Send you roses when they think you need to smile. I can't control myself because I don't know how, and they love me for it honestly, I'll be here for a while.” As Jim was about to pass it off, it started the...

“So give them blood, blood, gallons of the stuff! Give them all that they can drink and it will never be enough. So give them blood, blood, blood. Grab a glass because there's going to be a flood!” He liked that, the chorus part, probably more than he should have...

“A celebrated man amongst the gurneys. They can fix me proper with a bit of luck. The doctors and the nurses they adore me so, but it's really quite alarming cause I'm such an awful fuck.”

“Yes you are” Jim says, but this time, Seb just rolls his eyes as he pulls out the turkey, the song continuing on in the background. “That would be My Chemical Romance, by the way.” Sebastian says, as he turns around to face the smirking Jim. “Pretty good, bit gruesome at times. Like you.” Jim says nonchalantly, something glimmering in his eyes, 'could that be...- no, he couldn't' Jim thinks, shaking his head. 'Like the little bastard would care.' Rolling his eyes, he puts the turkey and the other parts at the table. Sitting at one side on the table, he starts cutting up the turkey. Once the big main stomach was cut up gently with silverware, he rips off a leg and eats. Jim is just leaning on the door way, watching his Seb tear apart the turkey leg. 'Not your Seb. Like he would think of you in anyway close to that. Your his boss, nothing more' Jim thought to himself.

I had missed Seb and his abnormalities being gone a month before returning to shoot his hand, left one. Confused? He was, too. Seb had gotten drunk that night, and was on Bart's roof holding a hand gun. He was screaming angrily, yelling expletives and my name, tears falling meaninglessly off his cheeks. I had chose to watch him, I was worried about his- ' not your Seb- I was worried about Seb. He wasn't his sneaky, sarcastic, jerky-self I had fallen in lo- had hired to work for him. That night, he screamed as he took the gun. That gun...

“Ay, you gonna eat, or just stand there staring at the floor? Jimmy? Boss, you okay?” Seb had gotten up and grabbed onto Jim, pulling him out of the memory. He pulled him up to his face, looking Jim in the eyes. Jim's breath was caught in his throat, heart switching from rocket speed to not at all, and back. “You okay?” Seb asked his heated breath upon Jim's face. Jim looked into Seb's eyes, wonderment and love all blooming in his chest he had sworn to eternal coldness like a flame. He swallows the lump in his throat and stuffing back the crazy idea that popped up. “Fine, Sebby, I-I’m fine...” Jim said in a voice barely his own, cracked and whimpered, until he coughs and gains his real voice to say “I'm fine, Seb, though your breath is lethal...” He gets Seb's grip off his arms and walks to the table and gets himself some food. Still slightly shaken, but desperately trying to hide it, he turns around with a, faked, sarcastic 'questioning' look and asked, “You going to eat? Didn't you want me to eat?

Seb could see he was hiding something under that sarcastic look, and he was going to find out eventually. He rolls his eyes, playing along, and sits at his spot. Taking his meat stick up again, they eat in silence. Eventually, Jim starts talking. “When did you learn to cook?” he asks, food stuffed in his mouth as he speaks. “Eh, Thanksgiving in war, learned from fellow guys after three years.” he responded, eyes rolling as he spoke. “Well, not bad. You seem to know your way around the kitchen, and singing, you little Songbird.” At the mention of his singing from earlier, his ears tinged pink and his cheeks barely glowed a hinted scarlet, muttered a “Shut Up” through a mouthful of turkey. “Make me.” Jim responded, enjoying his slight control over Seb. Seb heard that and his plan flew into action with a grin beginning to grow upon worn lips.“Or I’ll tell everyone about the incident, your study in Pink…” Seb spook, a malicious grin spread across his face at the Jim who always lo- lik- found the grin intriguing. Of course Jim gave him a look of ‘Really, the Cabby case?’ Seeing Jim’ expression only made the grin grow (not only thing?) as he goes on. ”Not the case, no, the time where I walked in to see you, in a big, puffy, bright-““Don’t…” “-Pink-““You…” “-Tutu…” Did I mention how red Jim’s face went during the last bit. Whether from fury or blushing embarrassingly, it amused Seb to no end. As Jim puffed his breath out, Sebastian took out his phone, took a picture and sent it to Mrs. Adler. Just in case Jim deleted his copy, of course, definitely not to brag. “I’ll tell Irene about how you once asked-“ Jim started speaking, but Seb’s hand was over his mouth before he could finish. ( A slightly mischievous thought…), and Seb said “fine, don’t say that out loud. I won’t” Jim couldn't help the joyous grin that spread upon his lips, malicious and mischievous combined into a grin, . Seeing he could do that to Jim made Seb think 'How is it I, boring sniper Seb could do that to Jim, a goofy, adorable and evil grin gosh I lo- I shouldn't think of how he looks evilly adorable with that grin. He's my boss, he'd never think of me like that.' “Nice try, tiger.” Jim says, his eyes lit with a chaotic joy. “I hate you” Seb says, trying to act serious yet he ended up laughing lightly. “Love you too...”

Neither could be sure whose eyes were wider, but if one had to chose, it would be Jim. Jim's eyes were wide enough to make Jupiter shrink (yes, used a solar system reference, deal Sherlock), and his face was red like blood. If one hadn't known what was going on, they may say he could be in blood (again). His thoughts began to blare at him, words like 'idiot, flawed, failure, mistaken' hitting him hard. He glanced up at Seb, to see what he did. Sebastian had eyes too big for normality, and without compare except to Jim's. A light pink flush ghosted his cheeks and his thoughts burst into a crazy haze, not any understandable but still consumed him to confusion, and a deafening silence followed those three simple words.

“I-I'm s-sorry,” Jim began, his words trembling as he spoke. “I-i Di-didn’t, I s-slipped u-up-p, I... I'll just g-go” he got up and started to walk out, face down with eyes pooling in 'Not tears, no, I'm fine', but the moment he tried passing Seb, Seb's arm stroke out swiftly and caught Jim. He pulled Jim back, and pushed him to the wall, his face completely composed. Jim looked up, those tears that were not there were falling down his cheeks like a race to escape. Those words full of torturous hate screamed out through his head, more 'not tears' dribbling down. Sebastian gently tipped Jim's head back to look him in the eyes. Jim was on the verge of whimpering under the force of these horrid words pounding his mind in. He looked into Sebastian's eyes and saw it. That glimmer of something, familiar to every time he's given him a nickname, every time Jim smiles, every time Jim laughs. It had always confused Jim to what it meant, the question boiling in his mind, barely louder than the words, but still heard. He searches Seb's eyes with slight desperation as he stands in Sebastian's grip. Slowly, Jim's face is getting closer to Seb's and all the thoughts seem to ram him into a confused and damaged child. But they all slowly dissipated at a breath away from Sebastian's lips as he heard Seb whisper. “Took you long enough to realize what I meant...” Realization slammed into Jim and slowly that glimmer in Seb's eyes was seen also in Jim's and he solved his puzzle. They both grinned but stopped suddenly and you couldn't see that glimmer for a while. Well, it is heard to do all of the love glimmering in their eyes, written in their smiles when they were to busy with their lips together... Now I could explain how all the food was then on the floor or coating the pair, but I'd rather leave it up to the imagination of you all (unless you wish me too?) But, let me tell you this; they never could ever (ever) have a normal thanksgiving.

John POV
Captain Holmes, toughest pirate out there. they say if you are lucky, you die on the spot.What he hates most is the government, no one else is sure why, but i know the truth about him.
Me and my army quadrant were being shipped out from London, when in the midst of the see, our boat was ransacked by the crew. I was below deck when the bullets hit, our captain found shot in the shoulder. Don't worry, he lives on, not fatal of a shot. I am a doctor, and i took care below deck where we hid. "They must of chickened out, jumped, ay cap?" said a voice above us. "Anderson, harm thy tongue, you lack intelligence to speak. Another word, and its the plank. The hole to where we hid was hidden under a heavy barrel of ammunition. But with every moment I felt our secure hiding place be on the brink of being found. And i was correct. Took half of the hour to be found and yet only half that to get us up on deck. I saw our captain and ran to his side. He was an old friend of my dad's since before World War II, where my dad fell in battle. I was little, and our cap' became like a father to me. Swiftly, I tare the sweat drenched white polo and tear along strip off the fabric. With said strip, i tightly bound it atop the wound, sufficiently stopping the blood. "Tie him up.", the deep baritone voice commanded and I was yanked up, my hands bonded by ropes, same as my feet. I was slammed atop a wooden crate by this man of silver hair. "I am sorry. I'd help but it tis not my division." he whispered in my ear as he passed. "Lestrade, hoist the flag upon our new ship." the deep voice said with the utmost calmness. The silver haired man ran to the flag. That's Lestrade, and Anderson had brown hair, plus there was another one whom I knew not. Black hair, and a girl. Not like most crews, but this was no ordinary captain.
 Most pirates had scratchy voices, tough beards and enough weight for two (They also got beat, the record was two minutes, 43 seconds.). This pirate, though, was like none other. he had curly black hair, sharp cheek bones you could cut yourself upon, a calm, robot like bass voice and was under weight. He strode right up to where Lestrade had put me, and raised my head so i was looking him straight in the eye. "Doctor? Doctor Watson, to where were you headed? Afghanistan or Iraq?". To put it simply, I was shocked. "Afghanistan, sir... how did you..." "It is obvious that you are off to battle, for you are in cameo uniform. Only a doctor would bandage a wound so well, an army doctor. Not somewhere close or easy to reach. " he spoke in a breath. "Besides, there is a map in your pocket and a letter to your drunk brother harry wishing him well from his break up you forgot to send. Am I correct?"  he looked at me, eyebrow raised and a too joyful smirk upon his lips. "Actually," I replied. "You are mostly correct . Harry does find comfort in booze and just broke up with her girlfriend..."  
"Her?" he spoke. The smirk had vanished in an instant of the word her. "Harry is your sister..." suddenly, he smashed his fist into the crate i was thrust upon. He pulled his hand back out, bloody and bruised, from the box of gun powder, shaking with barely contained anger and pain. I ,whom had slipped the bonds upon my wrists with my knife, took his hand into mine. He was in shock so i took control. " Lestrade, fetch me a cloth, wet with clean water. Top shelf in left cabinet. Anderson, fetch ice from the freezer below deck. And... you ms..." "Donovan." "Donovan. Grab the medical kit from below deck." They all followed command, although Donovan and Anderson both took their tasks grudgingly while Lestrade seemed fine with the command. The captain just clenched tight, biting back the pain. I've seen, and have had, worse, so I know my work. They took barely a minute on each task and barely five minutes later, his hand was bandaged up. "I'm Captain Holmes, Sherlock Holmes. For your help, you have earned a spot on my crew." He spoke, looking downwards as if he could not dare look me in the eye. "Only" I spoke, "If you let my unit free.".  If I was surprised earlier, you should have seen the look in Sherlock s wide silver eyes. While the rest of his face remained calm, his eyes conveyed a sea of emotion. Only because of the closeness in sight could one see the waves of emotion crashing into each other in his eyes. No one but i saw it, and it was brief for he answered a fine. My crew, memories wiped of this, were tied up and sent back to London. That's how I met my best friend, Captain Sherlock Holmes.

    Doofenshmirtz evil activity has always been well controlled by O.W.C.A.'s best agent, Perry the Platapus until by random, many crowds of people, and animal agents, walking towards Doofenshmirtz's building all sharing one similar detail; purple eyes. Yet has no clue how this began, only what happened after that changed everything in the tri state area.
    While the ones with purple eyes march to the building, Phineas is home, with a worried Candace, a crying Buford and a head ache. Not only does he have to save his brother, his best friend Isabella, Baljeet, his father and everyone else under this unusual influence, he must fight the one in his head. While trying to unravel why his freinds and family members are walking to a strange building, he will learn a secret burred in mystery secret that an change his life, and everyone's around him.