igrab
in
grabi_hands
There's No Better Team [Holmes/Watson, PG]
Title: There's No Better Team
Author: igrab
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Written For: random00
Wordcount: 504
Rating: PG
Notes: Pokemon AU.
Watson pushed his cap off his head; sighed. Mopped the sweat from his face. It was impossibly hot, and, as usual, the the only one feeling the sun's ill effects. Mary was, of course, a fire Pokemon, and she bounded cheerfully ahead without any concern for her trainer's woes. Ten paces further along the path, his partner had his hands in his pockets. Holmes was simply immune to the lesser things like weather.
Damn them all, anyway.
Something hit his back with a thump and he cursed loudly, scrambled for his hat, flailed a bit as something pink darted around and around his shoulders. "...Holmes!" he called. "Did you let Irene out of her pokeball again?!"
"I have absolutely no say in what she does. You should know that by now."
The extremely rare, exceptional, incredible Irene. Or, as the world knew her by - Mew. Holmes claimed she was nothing more than a leftover from a particularly uninteresting case, but Watson knew there had to be more of a story to it. No sane man would have let such a treasure out of his sight.
He had been travelling with the highly eccentric Sherlock Holmes for a good month now, and Watson still had no idea how to describe him. He wasn't a trainer. He wasn't a collector. It was true that he was highly adept at communicating with pokemon; it was also true that occasionally accepted money for solving small mysteries, from both human and pokemon alike. He fancied himself a detective, and yet, he had nothing but contempt for the general workings of the police force. Watson had seen him turn his back on an entire tournament scam, only to spend the next three days covered in mud to hunt for a missing oddish. He was strange.
"Irene, kindly remove yourself from the good doctor's face. He is warm enough already."
So good of you to notice, Watson thought acidly, but in truth he was surprised that Holmes had remarked on it. As far as he could tell, the man hadn't turned around since they set out.
Irene chittered something unintelligible, though it sounded overly saccharine, and leapt nimbly off his chest to go streaking off through the grass. Gone again. But, sure as the sun, she'd be back by the time they stopped for lunch. She genuinely seemed to like Holmes, despite his inadequacies as a trainer.
They would reach the city in three days, give or take. Bustling, full of people and lights and excitement - and, presumably, a job for a wandering physician, cut off from his home.
But he was going to miss this. No, that wasn't quite true. He wouldn't miss the long days of walking and fighting and sweating to death, but he would miss his companion. It had only been three weeks, but Holmes was not the sort of person one could easily forget.
Author: igrab
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Written For: random00
Wordcount: 504
Rating: PG
Notes: Pokemon AU.
Watson pushed his cap off his head; sighed. Mopped the sweat from his face. It was impossibly hot, and, as usual, the the only one feeling the sun's ill effects. Mary was, of course, a fire Pokemon, and she bounded cheerfully ahead without any concern for her trainer's woes. Ten paces further along the path, his partner had his hands in his pockets. Holmes was simply immune to the lesser things like weather.
Damn them all, anyway.
Something hit his back with a thump and he cursed loudly, scrambled for his hat, flailed a bit as something pink darted around and around his shoulders. "...Holmes!" he called. "Did you let Irene out of her pokeball again?!"
"I have absolutely no say in what she does. You should know that by now."
The extremely rare, exceptional, incredible Irene. Or, as the world knew her by - Mew. Holmes claimed she was nothing more than a leftover from a particularly uninteresting case, but Watson knew there had to be more of a story to it. No sane man would have let such a treasure out of his sight.
He had been travelling with the highly eccentric Sherlock Holmes for a good month now, and Watson still had no idea how to describe him. He wasn't a trainer. He wasn't a collector. It was true that he was highly adept at communicating with pokemon; it was also true that occasionally accepted money for solving small mysteries, from both human and pokemon alike. He fancied himself a detective, and yet, he had nothing but contempt for the general workings of the police force. Watson had seen him turn his back on an entire tournament scam, only to spend the next three days covered in mud to hunt for a missing oddish. He was strange.
"Irene, kindly remove yourself from the good doctor's face. He is warm enough already."
So good of you to notice, Watson thought acidly, but in truth he was surprised that Holmes had remarked on it. As far as he could tell, the man hadn't turned around since they set out.
Irene chittered something unintelligible, though it sounded overly saccharine, and leapt nimbly off his chest to go streaking off through the grass. Gone again. But, sure as the sun, she'd be back by the time they stopped for lunch. She genuinely seemed to like Holmes, despite his inadequacies as a trainer.
They would reach the city in three days, give or take. Bustling, full of people and lights and excitement - and, presumably, a job for a wandering physician, cut off from his home.
But he was going to miss this. No, that wasn't quite true. He wouldn't miss the long days of walking and fighting and sweating to death, but he would miss his companion. It had only been three weeks, but Holmes was not the sort of person one could easily forget.