Drabble Week 3
Posting them by drabbles and not by separate days since I'm not entirely sure now what I wrote which day. All three are Sherlock, two refer to characters from paxieamor's Red Headed Murder League. Meant to update this on Friday or Saturday but didn't get to it, better late then never though!
Mycroft paused mid-word for the third time in as many minutes. Somehow, Sherlock had talked him into allowing the two girls to stay with him while he was out of the country. They kept themselves occupied enough at home that he didn't mind the change in his routine. In fact the company in the sitting room at night had been a nice change of pace, something he was never ever going to let Sherlock find out. There, Evie and Jenna were good about entertaining themselves quietly with a book, notebook or game. Here in his office, however, they had decided to see what they could observe about the people walking by. That game he encouraged. It was simply wasteful the amount of people that cared so little about their surrounds as to not fully observe and he was pleased that the pair of them were working together to get better.
The giggling was highly unnecessary.
It was stifled as soon as they noticed him pause, but he had no illusions that the quiet would last.
He continued writing, his secretary would have it typed and emailed in moments, but he still preferred the languid movements of a pen.
The next round of giggling nearly startled him into ripping the paper.
This was the last time Sherlock would talk him into babysitting.
-
Sherlock hated to admit it, but Mycroft may have been right. Giggling should be illegal. He was nearly positive Mycroft would make it illegal if he could. It was quiet enough in the flat that night that he could hear the two girls giggling coming up through the vent easily enough.
"Light the lamp, not the rat!" he heard Jenna quote. He decided that was the loudest he'd ever heard her. It wasn't that he was intentionally trying to make her uncomfortable; they just never really seemed to know how to deal with each other.
"That's one of my favorite parts," Evie laughed.
Sherlock looked up when John came down.
"Can't sleep?"
John shook his head, "Going to get some tea." Nightmare then, Sherlock decided. If it was his wounds acting up he would have laid on the couch with the heating pad. Calming tea meant he'd tried sleep and it wasn't working.
He came out a few minutes later with a large mug, "Girl's still up?"
Sherlock nodded and tried not to flinch as the giggling started up even louder, "They're watching a movie."
John fought a grin, "Sounds like they're having fun."
"Apparently."
John did grin now, "Why don't we take them some popcorn?"
"We don't really need to go down there." Sherlock's eyes widened in alarm.
"They'll love a midnight snack," John went back into the kitchen, removed the questionable looking dish from the microwave and popped some popcorn.
"We shouldn't intrude. Really."
John dragged him down anyway.
Sherlock wouldn't openly admit to liking the movie, but he may have slipped up and quoted a bit in front of Lestrade a week later. Lestrade, thankfully, pretended not to notice. Evie, however, had a very wide grin.
-
John got exactly one letter from Harry the entire time he was in Afghanistan. It mostly boiled down to him being stupid and why did he go and join the army instead of just finding a practice to work at. The last sentence told him not to be stupid and go and get shot or anything. The writing got a little shaky at the point. John folded it up and kept it with his other important papers. Things got chaotic the next few days, and he never got the chance to finishing writing back. That might have been why there was only the one letter.
The next week he got shot. That was probably the best reason there was only one letter.
He woke up a month later in a hospital in London, mostly recovered from the infection that had set in. Harry was sitting by his bed.
"You went and did something stupid and got shot," she accused. Her eyes were puffy and red. He wondered how long she had been there.
"I guess I did," John yawned. Whatever drugs they were giving him were making him feel pretty fuzzy and fussing with her seemed like too much work. She hadn't really done much yet that he needed to anyway.
She thrust a phone at him, "Where are you going to stay when you're released?"
John blinked at her, "I'll find somewhere I guess." Thinking that much seemed like work, besides, he was really out of bed much yet. There was plenty of time to worry about it.
"You could stay with me?" she sounded a bit hesitant.
John shook his head, "Nah, that's okay. You know we'd kill each other in a week. Besides, I'd like to stay in London."
She nodded, looking a bit relieved. He didn't blame her; he really didn't think they could live together for any length of time anymore.
"You'll call me?" she asked.
"Yeah," he nodded. Maybe he even really would, at least every once in a while.
It was when he was putting things away in the flat that he found the start of the letter.
Dear Harry,
I know it's dangerous, but I'm helping more of our soldiers come home. They look out for us doctors pretty well, don't worry. I'm near a lot of the fighting, but I'm as safe as can be expected. How are you and Clara doing? You should hang on to her.
John shook his head and glanced down at the back of his phone. Maybe he should have found time to finish it.
I'm out on the front lines, don't worry I'll be fine, the story is just beginning... Diamond Eyes, Shinedown
-
Actual/Goal: 960/700
YTD Actual/Goal: 3033/1400
Mycroft paused mid-word for the third time in as many minutes. Somehow, Sherlock had talked him into allowing the two girls to stay with him while he was out of the country. They kept themselves occupied enough at home that he didn't mind the change in his routine. In fact the company in the sitting room at night had been a nice change of pace, something he was never ever going to let Sherlock find out. There, Evie and Jenna were good about entertaining themselves quietly with a book, notebook or game. Here in his office, however, they had decided to see what they could observe about the people walking by. That game he encouraged. It was simply wasteful the amount of people that cared so little about their surrounds as to not fully observe and he was pleased that the pair of them were working together to get better.
The giggling was highly unnecessary.
It was stifled as soon as they noticed him pause, but he had no illusions that the quiet would last.
He continued writing, his secretary would have it typed and emailed in moments, but he still preferred the languid movements of a pen.
The next round of giggling nearly startled him into ripping the paper.
This was the last time Sherlock would talk him into babysitting.
-
Sherlock hated to admit it, but Mycroft may have been right. Giggling should be illegal. He was nearly positive Mycroft would make it illegal if he could. It was quiet enough in the flat that night that he could hear the two girls giggling coming up through the vent easily enough.
"Light the lamp, not the rat!" he heard Jenna quote. He decided that was the loudest he'd ever heard her. It wasn't that he was intentionally trying to make her uncomfortable; they just never really seemed to know how to deal with each other.
"That's one of my favorite parts," Evie laughed.
Sherlock looked up when John came down.
"Can't sleep?"
John shook his head, "Going to get some tea." Nightmare then, Sherlock decided. If it was his wounds acting up he would have laid on the couch with the heating pad. Calming tea meant he'd tried sleep and it wasn't working.
He came out a few minutes later with a large mug, "Girl's still up?"
Sherlock nodded and tried not to flinch as the giggling started up even louder, "They're watching a movie."
John fought a grin, "Sounds like they're having fun."
"Apparently."
John did grin now, "Why don't we take them some popcorn?"
"We don't really need to go down there." Sherlock's eyes widened in alarm.
"They'll love a midnight snack," John went back into the kitchen, removed the questionable looking dish from the microwave and popped some popcorn.
"We shouldn't intrude. Really."
John dragged him down anyway.
Sherlock wouldn't openly admit to liking the movie, but he may have slipped up and quoted a bit in front of Lestrade a week later. Lestrade, thankfully, pretended not to notice. Evie, however, had a very wide grin.
-
John got exactly one letter from Harry the entire time he was in Afghanistan. It mostly boiled down to him being stupid and why did he go and join the army instead of just finding a practice to work at. The last sentence told him not to be stupid and go and get shot or anything. The writing got a little shaky at the point. John folded it up and kept it with his other important papers. Things got chaotic the next few days, and he never got the chance to finishing writing back. That might have been why there was only the one letter.
The next week he got shot. That was probably the best reason there was only one letter.
He woke up a month later in a hospital in London, mostly recovered from the infection that had set in. Harry was sitting by his bed.
"You went and did something stupid and got shot," she accused. Her eyes were puffy and red. He wondered how long she had been there.
"I guess I did," John yawned. Whatever drugs they were giving him were making him feel pretty fuzzy and fussing with her seemed like too much work. She hadn't really done much yet that he needed to anyway.
She thrust a phone at him, "Where are you going to stay when you're released?"
John blinked at her, "I'll find somewhere I guess." Thinking that much seemed like work, besides, he was really out of bed much yet. There was plenty of time to worry about it.
"You could stay with me?" she sounded a bit hesitant.
John shook his head, "Nah, that's okay. You know we'd kill each other in a week. Besides, I'd like to stay in London."
She nodded, looking a bit relieved. He didn't blame her; he really didn't think they could live together for any length of time anymore.
"You'll call me?" she asked.
"Yeah," he nodded. Maybe he even really would, at least every once in a while.
It was when he was putting things away in the flat that he found the start of the letter.
Dear Harry,
I know it's dangerous, but I'm helping more of our soldiers come home. They look out for us doctors pretty well, don't worry. I'm near a lot of the fighting, but I'm as safe as can be expected. How are you and Clara doing? You should hang on to her.
John shook his head and glanced down at the back of his phone. Maybe he should have found time to finish it.
I'm out on the front lines, don't worry I'll be fine, the story is just beginning... Diamond Eyes, Shinedown
-
Actual/Goal: 960/700
YTD Actual/Goal: 3033/1400