Title: Four things involving Clyde the Tortoise.
For Awanderingbard's birthday.
Warning: some chapters are less fluffy than others.
Author: Keenir.
Summaries:
--chapter 1:
I do not believe that word means what you think it does.--chapter 2:
Clyde solves a case.--chapter 3:
Rachel Howell.--chapter 4:
What could possibly go wrong?Disclaimer: I own none of the characters of the Canon, nor of their interpretations. I make no money from any of this.
Rating: pg13/mature.
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Unsurprisingly, Joan found Sherlock at his laptop. What surprised her was what he was watching. Is that a - yup, beyond a doubt now. "Why are you watching turtle porn?" Joan asked.
"Clyde is assisting in the perpetuation of his species," was his answer.
"I can see that. That also wasn't what I asked."
"In part, to assure myself he knew what to do," Sherlock said.
Joan had no intention of saying 'of course he does' - the incident with the cormorant (and her late boot) was seared in her brain. "And does he?"
"Thus far, I've observed no complaints."
"You wrote a paper on chelonian facial features?"
"A short one. Simply haven't gotten around to publishing it."
"Let me know what you do, okay?" Joan asked. When Sherlock gave an assent, she asked, "I'm going to get a drink. You want anything?"
"Water for now," he said.
The next two minutes were uneventful and quiet.
Sherlock said to her, as she came back with their respective drinks, "You miss Clyde."
"Yeah, I suppose I do," Joan said.
"The feeling is mutual."
Joan didn't relinquish his water to him; just gave him a look he chose to read as 'Please Explain'.
"As Clyde's co-owner, I too miss his presence and assistance," Sherlock explained.
"I'm pretty sure that's not what 'mutual' means."
"The word refers to the feelings and opinions of at least two self-aware sapiences. As Clyde has difficulty adding anything save for himself with a meal, he can safely be disqualified."
"That's... fine," Joan said, handing him his water, then went upstairs to watch tv or tvs.
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