[fic update]
re: Big Bang: The rules of the event state over at sherlockbigbang that I am not allowed to post snippets anywhere, betas being the exception, and while I understand the rule, it makes me cry a little inside. I will say the work is very different from what I usually write, and I am not sure many of you will like it, but I am fairly proud.
A shout out of support to everyone else who's still hanging on: We will get there. We will. We will. Sans sanity and social lives and limbs, perhaps... or am I just speaking for myself here...
...
re: Other Thing: As I told my Horsewimmenz and crocodile_eat_u, I have (rather unwisely; I have no self control, what,) been working on something in bits and pieces lately. HERE, I WILL SHOW YOU BITS.
~
“That’s the third time in a fortnight you’ve come in with a bag o’ black n’ blue.”
Jones had a constant pinched expression on his narrow face, which sat awkwardly upon his broad shoulders and thick neck. Little eyes, whose intentions were always difficult to read, flickered from Lestrade to the suspect, then back.
“What was this one up to?” he sighed.
Lestrade shrugged. Roark opened his mouth and snapped, “Weren’t doing nothing! Mindin’ my own business, hear some chap’s door being knocked in, n’ whaddoo I get-”
A knee in the small of his back and Roark returned to a twitching half-silence, maintained through mutters and growls.
“Breaking into a shop,” Lestrade sniffed. “You remember that telegram which came in this morning.”
A brief pause for thought and Jones nodded, grumbling out, “Oh, yes, yes, yes,” and watching Lestrade hand Roark off to the nearest constable with a shrug of the shoulders and a jab of the thumb. “What did he do to you, then?” Jones asked, bouncing after Lestrade as the other inspector whirled off towards his office.
“We searched him in the Maria. Wasn’t a thing on him but a bundle of pound notes.” Lestrade straightened his cuffs and pulled down on the lapels of his jacket, before impatiently swiping his hair out of his brow and wrenching his office door open. “But it looked for a moment like the blighter was fixing to pull a gun on m-”
“Well, well, well.”
see, no self control.
~
I MISS YOUUUU ALLL, HOW IS EVERYONE??