fic: Winter Sights
Title: Winter Sights
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock/Maurice crossover
Pairing: Lestrade/Maurice
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Wordcount: ~900
Disclaimer: They're still not mine, and putting them together was kopoushka 's idea.
Summary: “OK,” Maurice says. “Got one more thing to show you and then we’ll go back and have a nice lie down. I always forget how tiring sightseeing is.”
A/N: Written for the prompt square "emotion: happiness" on my kissbingo card; the card is here. The sleeper journey referred to in this fic is here. julie_izumi 's Maurice/Lestrade icon inspired that, and this; my thanks again to her.
Winter Sights
“Bloody hell, look at that!” Lestrade says, not for the first time. “Didn’t realize we were coming to Narnia.”
Scotland’s under snow, and even the snow is under hoar-frost, in the coldest December for 100 years. At breakfast in the hotel dining-room they’d sat watching patches of ice float down the Tay, and now they’re driving past field after glittering field of snow in the sunlight, under an improbably blue sky, past ghosted trees and hedges winking with ice crystals.
Lestrade can see why people fall in love with this place, can imagine how they would even without the charm of the snow. Must be a bleak landscape without that to soften it, though, and he knows from the photos in that magazine back at the hotel that it gets a lot grimmer and more dramatic further north. Thirty-Nine Steps country, probably, though he’s not sure where that is exactly.
Just past the winter solstice, not much time for sightseeing in this light, but they’re still pleasantly tired from the sleeper journey so they don’t want to overdo it. Soon be time to start thinking about heading back.
“One of these days I’d like to take you to Sutherland,” Maurice says.
That’s about as far north-west as you can go without falling off, right? Lestrade was rubbish at Geography, but he knows that much.
“It’s like the end of the world,” Maurice says dreamily, “but in a good way.”
Lestrade laughs. “What’s that when it’s at home?”
“There’s a single-track road to Achiltibuie-”
“Ocky-how much?”
“Achiltibuie,” Maurice says, refusing to be put off. “Goes past a ring of mountains with a plain like a sort of crater in the middle. It looks so old. I swear you wouldn’t be surprised if a dinosaur suddenly appeared.”
That’s Anderson’s next holiday sorted then.
“-And there are these islands called the Summer Isles-”
Sounds a bit Wicker Man, Lestrade thinks. Wasn’t the Christopher Lee character in that called Lord Summerisle? He shivers.
“The islands aren’t anything much but the view of them you get from Ullapool is just - completely magical,” Maurice says.
Never heard him like this about scenery before. Opera, sure. Still, Maurice getting excited is always nice, pretty much regardless of what’s set him off. Usually means more excitement later, too, which is even nicer.
“Too far for today, though,” Lestrade says.
“Oh Lord, yes,” Maurice says. “It’s about as far again the other side of Inverness, and that’s too far for now.”
“Pity,” Lestrade says. “Might have got a snap of Nessie.”
“Probably hibernating,” Maurice says. “Come back in the summer.”
Lestrade wouldn’t mind that at all. Especially if they got the sleeper again. Can’t think how he got to this age without having had sex on a night train before, but Christ that was good. Could still feel the swaying rhythm of it in his body at breakfast this morning. Mm.
“Summer could be nice,” he says hoarsely.
“You’ve gone again, haven’t you?” Maurice says, laughing.
No point pretending he hasn’t. Maurice always knows.
“OK,” Maurice says. “Got one more thing to show you and then we’ll go back and have a nice lie down. I always forget how tiring sightseeing is.”
Lestrade hopes the one more thing isn’t going to take too long because he’d quite like a nice lie down right now. But he doesn’t want to spoil Maurice’s pleasure in whatever it is he wants to show him.
The place is called Queen’s View: some people think it’s after Queen Victoria but apparently that’s wrong. A lake, no, loch, with some islands in it, surrounded by wooded hills and mountains. And Maurice was right: it’s worth the detour.
“Bet this is gorgeous in the summer as well,” Lestrade says.
“We could stop on the way back next time,” Maurice says. “Take the sleeper all the way to Inverness.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lestrade says happily.
“First time I came here was nearly thirty years ago,” Maurice says. “Walking holiday. After Clive dumped me. I remember thinking If I die tomorrow I’ll still be glad I’ve seen this place.”
“Morbid sod,” Lestrade says affectionately. “Just as well you didn’t, eh?”
“If I’d known this was coming-” Maurice says.
He sounds so happy and so amazed by it that Lestrade has to kiss him till they’re both breathless.
“Definitely coming back in the summer,” Lestrade says.
“Oh good,” Maurice says. “I’m glad you like it too. I think it might be my favourite view in the world.”
Lestrade looks at Maurice, cheeks flushed and eyes bright in the cold December air. “Well up in my top ten.”
“You’re not even l- oh.” Maurice blushes up to the tips of his ears and pulls him into another passionate embrace.
Lestrade’s body is singing with happiness, veins fizzing with it. Please remember this, he begs his mind. Whatever else I lose when I’m old and going gaga, please hold on to this moment with Maurice.
They go on kissing till the freezing air and fading light remind them it’s time to head back.
“So what’s your favourite view?” Maurice asks.
“Best place to see that would be back at the hotel,” Lestrade says, nuzzling his neck. “In this weather at least.”
No point in risking frostbite, after all.
“Get in the car, you shameless DI,” Maurice says. “Now.”
Lestrade doesn't need telling twice. Looks like the best holiday he's ever had is about to get even better.
***
There are many fine photographs of Queen's View, including this one. I don't own any of them.
Author: fengirl88
Fandom: BBC Sherlock/Maurice crossover
Pairing: Lestrade/Maurice
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Wordcount: ~900
Disclaimer: They're still not mine, and putting them together was kopoushka 's idea.
Summary: “OK,” Maurice says. “Got one more thing to show you and then we’ll go back and have a nice lie down. I always forget how tiring sightseeing is.”
A/N: Written for the prompt square "emotion: happiness" on my kissbingo card; the card is here. The sleeper journey referred to in this fic is here. julie_izumi 's Maurice/Lestrade icon inspired that, and this; my thanks again to her.
Winter Sights
“Bloody hell, look at that!” Lestrade says, not for the first time. “Didn’t realize we were coming to Narnia.”
Scotland’s under snow, and even the snow is under hoar-frost, in the coldest December for 100 years. At breakfast in the hotel dining-room they’d sat watching patches of ice float down the Tay, and now they’re driving past field after glittering field of snow in the sunlight, under an improbably blue sky, past ghosted trees and hedges winking with ice crystals.
Lestrade can see why people fall in love with this place, can imagine how they would even without the charm of the snow. Must be a bleak landscape without that to soften it, though, and he knows from the photos in that magazine back at the hotel that it gets a lot grimmer and more dramatic further north. Thirty-Nine Steps country, probably, though he’s not sure where that is exactly.
Just past the winter solstice, not much time for sightseeing in this light, but they’re still pleasantly tired from the sleeper journey so they don’t want to overdo it. Soon be time to start thinking about heading back.
“One of these days I’d like to take you to Sutherland,” Maurice says.
That’s about as far north-west as you can go without falling off, right? Lestrade was rubbish at Geography, but he knows that much.
“It’s like the end of the world,” Maurice says dreamily, “but in a good way.”
Lestrade laughs. “What’s that when it’s at home?”
“There’s a single-track road to Achiltibuie-”
“Ocky-how much?”
“Achiltibuie,” Maurice says, refusing to be put off. “Goes past a ring of mountains with a plain like a sort of crater in the middle. It looks so old. I swear you wouldn’t be surprised if a dinosaur suddenly appeared.”
That’s Anderson’s next holiday sorted then.
“-And there are these islands called the Summer Isles-”
Sounds a bit Wicker Man, Lestrade thinks. Wasn’t the Christopher Lee character in that called Lord Summerisle? He shivers.
“The islands aren’t anything much but the view of them you get from Ullapool is just - completely magical,” Maurice says.
Never heard him like this about scenery before. Opera, sure. Still, Maurice getting excited is always nice, pretty much regardless of what’s set him off. Usually means more excitement later, too, which is even nicer.
“Too far for today, though,” Lestrade says.
“Oh Lord, yes,” Maurice says. “It’s about as far again the other side of Inverness, and that’s too far for now.”
“Pity,” Lestrade says. “Might have got a snap of Nessie.”
“Probably hibernating,” Maurice says. “Come back in the summer.”
Lestrade wouldn’t mind that at all. Especially if they got the sleeper again. Can’t think how he got to this age without having had sex on a night train before, but Christ that was good. Could still feel the swaying rhythm of it in his body at breakfast this morning. Mm.
“Summer could be nice,” he says hoarsely.
“You’ve gone again, haven’t you?” Maurice says, laughing.
No point pretending he hasn’t. Maurice always knows.
“OK,” Maurice says. “Got one more thing to show you and then we’ll go back and have a nice lie down. I always forget how tiring sightseeing is.”
Lestrade hopes the one more thing isn’t going to take too long because he’d quite like a nice lie down right now. But he doesn’t want to spoil Maurice’s pleasure in whatever it is he wants to show him.
The place is called Queen’s View: some people think it’s after Queen Victoria but apparently that’s wrong. A lake, no, loch, with some islands in it, surrounded by wooded hills and mountains. And Maurice was right: it’s worth the detour.
“Bet this is gorgeous in the summer as well,” Lestrade says.
“We could stop on the way back next time,” Maurice says. “Take the sleeper all the way to Inverness.”
“Sounds good to me,” Lestrade says happily.
“First time I came here was nearly thirty years ago,” Maurice says. “Walking holiday. After Clive dumped me. I remember thinking If I die tomorrow I’ll still be glad I’ve seen this place.”
“Morbid sod,” Lestrade says affectionately. “Just as well you didn’t, eh?”
“If I’d known this was coming-” Maurice says.
He sounds so happy and so amazed by it that Lestrade has to kiss him till they’re both breathless.
“Definitely coming back in the summer,” Lestrade says.
“Oh good,” Maurice says. “I’m glad you like it too. I think it might be my favourite view in the world.”
Lestrade looks at Maurice, cheeks flushed and eyes bright in the cold December air. “Well up in my top ten.”
“You’re not even l- oh.” Maurice blushes up to the tips of his ears and pulls him into another passionate embrace.
Lestrade’s body is singing with happiness, veins fizzing with it. Please remember this, he begs his mind. Whatever else I lose when I’m old and going gaga, please hold on to this moment with Maurice.
They go on kissing till the freezing air and fading light remind them it’s time to head back.
“So what’s your favourite view?” Maurice asks.
“Best place to see that would be back at the hotel,” Lestrade says, nuzzling his neck. “In this weather at least.”
No point in risking frostbite, after all.
“Get in the car, you shameless DI,” Maurice says. “Now.”
Lestrade doesn't need telling twice. Looks like the best holiday he's ever had is about to get even better.
***
There are many fine photographs of Queen's View, including this one. I don't own any of them.