Sherlock fanfic: Vectors (JWP#7)
Title: Vectors
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate Postings: AO3
Rating/Content: PG13, illness, work griping
Warnings: none
Word Count: 270 ish
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #7: Epidemic This was written on my small old phone. Please forgive any errors, I will fix them later when I have access to a proper keyboard.
Summary: John muses on the joys of flu season.
-.-
Vectors
-.-
Twenty eight cases of flu today. 28. No matter how often you told some people that antibiotics do nothing for a viral infection, the first sniffle and they're running for the surgery demanding a prescription. John and his fellow passengers swayed as the Tube car lurched into motion.
Twenty eight though. Doubled from this time last week; practically a proper epidemic. Of course John had heard that the flu shots this season had been crap. To be expected; they were a gamble with a reliable beneficial payout, some years better than others, but the odds had to catch up with the algorithms at some point and turn out a duff year.
The city had always been a great disease exchanger too. So many people living so close together, practically a Petri dish since before Petri dishes existed.
John looked around at his fellow passengers rising the Tube. Sneezes, coughs, sniffles everywhere. One woman huddled up in her business blazer staring vaguely forward and shivering.
John frowned. Definite high fever. She looked in his direction with enough awareness in her eyes to subdue his urge to go see how badly off she was.
Hopefully she was on her way home to soup, tea, and bed. Oh that sounds like a heavenly idea. All that and a bath. After today's long shift, John ached all over.
Johns phone queeped with a text: [Smugglers in the sewers. Bring your gun and your wellies. SH]
No soup and tea and bed until much later tonight then. And definitely a bath. Possibly several.
John sighed, but halfway through he broke into a fit of coughing.
Fantastic.
-.-.-
(That's it)
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Alternate Postings: AO3
Rating/Content: PG13, illness, work griping
Warnings: none
Word Count: 270 ish
Disclaimer: Not my world.
Notes: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #7: Epidemic This was written on my small old phone. Please forgive any errors, I will fix them later when I have access to a proper keyboard.
Summary: John muses on the joys of flu season.
-.-
Vectors
-.-
Twenty eight cases of flu today. 28. No matter how often you told some people that antibiotics do nothing for a viral infection, the first sniffle and they're running for the surgery demanding a prescription. John and his fellow passengers swayed as the Tube car lurched into motion.
Twenty eight though. Doubled from this time last week; practically a proper epidemic. Of course John had heard that the flu shots this season had been crap. To be expected; they were a gamble with a reliable beneficial payout, some years better than others, but the odds had to catch up with the algorithms at some point and turn out a duff year.
The city had always been a great disease exchanger too. So many people living so close together, practically a Petri dish since before Petri dishes existed.
John looked around at his fellow passengers rising the Tube. Sneezes, coughs, sniffles everywhere. One woman huddled up in her business blazer staring vaguely forward and shivering.
John frowned. Definite high fever. She looked in his direction with enough awareness in her eyes to subdue his urge to go see how badly off she was.
Hopefully she was on her way home to soup, tea, and bed. Oh that sounds like a heavenly idea. All that and a bath. After today's long shift, John ached all over.
Johns phone queeped with a text: [Smugglers in the sewers. Bring your gun and your wellies. SH]
No soup and tea and bed until much later tonight then. And definitely a bath. Possibly several.
John sighed, but halfway through he broke into a fit of coughing.
Fantastic.
-.-.-
(That's it)