Spoiler-Free Prompt Post
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Sally clutches herself, shaking like a stalk of grass in the wind, and glares. "No. Bloody. Way."
Narrowing his eyes, Sherlock continues to stand across the locked freezer with his arms held out wide. "Oh, get over yourself. I'm happily spoken for," he drawls lazily, rolling his eyes. Still, she glares and holds herself and sinks defiantly onto a bucket. Well, it would be more defiant if she weren't turning a bit blue around the edges. Sherlock sighs. "Honestly, do I have to make you vulnerable and more susceptible to touch? Do I need to make you cry?"
"You damn well don't!"
"Then come here."
"Bite me!"
"Your mother died when you were ten," he cut over her with an icy edge to her voice. "Your father was indifferent to you since before you were born. You moved in with your grandmother at the age of 14, not out of convenience or security for your upbringing but because she had the beginnings of dementia; someone had to look after her and, again, your father was indifferent.
"Throughout your teen and adult years you've left behind a strong of jaded lovers who almost all thought you were exemplary - which you really are if you let yourself be - but you left them behind because you didn't want to end up trapped in a relationship you regretted; you're still searching for a sense of comfort and belonging that's deeper than a lover. You're still looking for a home."
She is ready to scoff and turn away. Of course the Freak knows her whole family history; that much isn't surprising. She'd learned how to suck up her feelings and get over it.
But Holmes isn't done yet. He's only just about to deliver the final blow. "And Sally, I am sorry, because if there is anyone of those idiots on the force who deserves to have a decent life and family, it is you. You were an exceptional daughter and granddaughter, and you are an exceptional officer."
Dammit. She puts a hand over her eyes and hides from the Freak as he slides closer and wraps an arm around her shoulders. The surprising warmth of his skinny frame is...well, surprising. And it feels much better than the cold. She reluctantly pulls her arms around him and settles in for a long wait.
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EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!
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But anyhow!
I loved this, too--everything from Sally's touching backstory to "I'm spoken for" to the surprising warmth of skinny Sherlock. Just... aww.
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I fucking loved this! I love Sally Donovan and I'm really pissed at all the hate she's been getting. Thank you for writing her so well.
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