Ornaments
Author: 
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Christmas Decorations, John Watson, Sarah Sawyer
Summary: Christmas observations from an unlikely source.
Warnings: (none)
Word Count: 221
Author's Notes: for fun and for friends
.oOOo.
Even two days before Christmas the little Kensington surgery was well-attended. Head colds, and minor aches and pains ignored the holidays and worked straight through. The lights on a flimsy tabletop Christmas tree gently shifted red-white-green-off as it wobbled in its corner. It longed for its year-long hibernation in the safety of the storage room where no snotty children could twist its branches, nor stroppy teens ridicule its forlorn condition, nor exhausted adults scorn it for being a weak attempt at Christmas cheer. Yes, if it were not for the surgery staff who pitied it, dusted it, and re-straightened it, the little tree would have been as bitter as those door wreaths hanging outside the dentists’ suite across the hall.
This year, with Dr Edwards off on maternity leave, another doctor was hired to fill in. To Dr Watson fell those least desirable patients: malingerers demanding fit notes so they could spend more time with their families, more fit notes for students fearing exams, and bawling young children needing their first flu jab. Such thankless tasks! The long hours with these patients wore at him, yet he remained each evening, slumped in reception, waiting to help Dr Sawyer close up.
What’s up with that, wondered the tree? Perhaps the mistletoe hanging in Dr Sawyer’s office had something to do with it.
.oOOo.
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Characters: Christmas Decorations, John Watson, Sarah Sawyer
Summary: Christmas observations from an unlikely source.
Warnings: (none)
Word Count: 221
Author's Notes: for fun and for friends
.oOOo.
Even two days before Christmas the little Kensington surgery was well-attended. Head colds, and minor aches and pains ignored the holidays and worked straight through. The lights on a flimsy tabletop Christmas tree gently shifted red-white-green-off as it wobbled in its corner. It longed for its year-long hibernation in the safety of the storage room where no snotty children could twist its branches, nor stroppy teens ridicule its forlorn condition, nor exhausted adults scorn it for being a weak attempt at Christmas cheer. Yes, if it were not for the surgery staff who pitied it, dusted it, and re-straightened it, the little tree would have been as bitter as those door wreaths hanging outside the dentists’ suite across the hall.
This year, with Dr Edwards off on maternity leave, another doctor was hired to fill in. To Dr Watson fell those least desirable patients: malingerers demanding fit notes so they could spend more time with their families, more fit notes for students fearing exams, and bawling young children needing their first flu jab. Such thankless tasks! The long hours with these patients wore at him, yet he remained each evening, slumped in reception, waiting to help Dr Sawyer close up.
What’s up with that, wondered the tree? Perhaps the mistletoe hanging in Dr Sawyer’s office had something to do with it.
.oOOo.