Fic: Sleepless in Middleford 1/2
Sleepless in Middleford
Part 1 of 2
Fandom, Pairing: Murder in Suburbia, Ash/Scribbs
Summary: Yet another cliché: "Everyone thinks we’re doing it."
AN: Starts kind of slow.
Part 1
Detective Inspector Kate Ashurst felt her eyes grow heavy, and she abruptly sat up, startling her partner. “You all right, Ash?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Well, you don’t look fine.”
“Thank you very much for pointing that out.”
“Sorry, I just mean you look absolutely knackered. How long’s it been since you had a proper sleep?”
“I don’t know,” Ash sighed, wearily, and rested her head in her hand, her eyes drooping again.
“Look, why don’t you pop into the backseat and try to get some rest?”
Ash jerked herself upright again. “I can’t. How would it look for the superior officer to be napping in the backseat during a stakeout?”
Scribbs sighed, but didn’t argue. “Do you want me to get you some more coffee, then?”
Ash made a face. “I’ve had enough coffee in the last week to burn a hole through several internal organs.”
“Ok, then.” Scribbs brought the binoculars back to her eyes and watched the door of the club while Ash tried to stifle a huge yawn. Minutes later, her eyes drooped shut for the last time.
For the first time in ages, Ash woke feeling rested and refreshed, although confused about the heavy, warm object wrapped around her shoulders. Raising her head, she found herself gazing into a pair of amused hazel eyes and realized that it was Scribbs’ arm wrapped securely around her shoulders and further, that she had been cuddled up with her DS, in that arms-around-the-waist, head-on-the-shoulder way that was popular in old black and whites. For a second, Ash just rested there, surprised at how comfortable it felt, even though she knew she should be scandalized to be in such a position.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Scribbs teased, “did you sleep well?”
Ash slowly straightened and stretched her back and neck. “Yes, actually, I did.”
“No nightmares, then?”
“Nary a one.” Ash looked around; they were still outside the club, but it was dark. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing. I’m beginning to think he’s on to us.” Scribbs noticed Ash’s increasingly worried expression, and said, “You were only asleep for about an hour.”
“And how did I get, um…?”
“Wrapped around me like a drunk slapper?” Ash’s eyes narrowed at the characterization, and she looked like she was about to lecture, so Scribbs relented and explained, “You kinda slid down the seat and your head came to rest on my shoulder. Next thing I knew, you were all over me.” Ash blushed. “I put my arm up and around because I didn’t want you to get a crick in your neck.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe I did that.”
Scribbs thought for a minute. “Maybe it was your subconscious.” At Ash’s puzzled look, she continued, “You know, fulfilling an unconscious need for human contact or something. I was reading this article…”
“Scribbs.” Ash pointed out the window. “I think that’s our guy.”
***
Scribbs woke to a pounding, and for once it wasn’t one behind her eyes from too much drink. Groaning, she rolled over and glared at the clock, the red numbers swimming in front of her eyes. Who might be pounding on her door at 2 AM was not even a question in her mind as she stumbled through her flat and flung open the door. “Can’t this wait til morning?” she asked the brunette on her stoop.
“About that article….”
“Oh, the one you called absolute rubbish earlier this evening? What about it?” Scribbs asked sleepily, leaning against the edge of the door and rubbing her eyes. She finally took in her partner, in her pajamas and dressing gown, dark circles under her eyes, fidgeting on her doormat. “Nightmares?”
Ash nodded. “I don’t even remember them, but it seems like every time I close my eyes, I wake up a few minutes later in a panic.”
Scribbs reached out and took Ash’s hand, drawing her in and through the living room. She felt Ash start to pull away as she led her into the bedroom. “Come on.” Scribbs walked around to the right side of the bed and got in. “And don’t worry, I changed the sheets before I went to bed.” Ash gave her speculative look but said nothing; she just set her cellphone on the bedside table and dropped her dressing gown at the foot of the bed. Feeling Ash settle onto the bed, Scribbs rolled over and slid an arm around her waist.
Ash stiffened immediately. “Scribbs, what are my rules about sharing a bed?”
“No stray limbs, I know, but you weren’t abiding by your rules in the car today, now, were you? Besides, if that article is correct, this is what you need. Now sleep, Ash.” And so she did.
Ash woke just before dawn, once again feeling rested, but she was missing the heavy weight of Scribbs draped across her. Rolling over, she was relieved to find Scribbs still in bed with her, and she wasted no time in snuggling up against the other woman, her eyes closing as soon as she was comfortable again.
“Scribbins,” Scribbs said to a dead line, before poking Ash to wake her. “Ash, your phone.”
A second later came Ash’s sleep-slurred voice: “Ashurst.”
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No, I mean, yes, but it’s okay. I should be up. What can I do for you, boss?”
“We’ve got some new evidence in your murder investigation. I think you might want to re-interview your suspect again.”
“Right. I’ll call Scribbs…”
“No need. I’ve…” A ring sounded on the other side of the bed, and Ash reached around to try to grab Scribbs’ arm to keep her from answering her phone, “…asked someone to ring her.”
“Scribbins.” Scribbs’ voice sounded incredibly loud in the room and Ash winced at the silence on the other end of her phone. Scribbs laughed at something the other person said before replying, “We’ll be in shortly. Have the coffee made.”
“Is that…?” Sullivan began, his tone subdued. He hurriedly cleared his throat to forestall any response. “Right, then. See you at the station,” he said briskly before hanging up the phone.
Ash turned to stare at her partner in horror.
“What?” asked the oblivious Scribbs.
Part 1 of 2
Fandom, Pairing: Murder in Suburbia, Ash/Scribbs
Summary: Yet another cliché: "Everyone thinks we’re doing it."
AN: Starts kind of slow.
Part 1
Detective Inspector Kate Ashurst felt her eyes grow heavy, and she abruptly sat up, startling her partner. “You all right, Ash?”
“Yes, fine.”
“Well, you don’t look fine.”
“Thank you very much for pointing that out.”
“Sorry, I just mean you look absolutely knackered. How long’s it been since you had a proper sleep?”
“I don’t know,” Ash sighed, wearily, and rested her head in her hand, her eyes drooping again.
“Look, why don’t you pop into the backseat and try to get some rest?”
Ash jerked herself upright again. “I can’t. How would it look for the superior officer to be napping in the backseat during a stakeout?”
Scribbs sighed, but didn’t argue. “Do you want me to get you some more coffee, then?”
Ash made a face. “I’ve had enough coffee in the last week to burn a hole through several internal organs.”
“Ok, then.” Scribbs brought the binoculars back to her eyes and watched the door of the club while Ash tried to stifle a huge yawn. Minutes later, her eyes drooped shut for the last time.
For the first time in ages, Ash woke feeling rested and refreshed, although confused about the heavy, warm object wrapped around her shoulders. Raising her head, she found herself gazing into a pair of amused hazel eyes and realized that it was Scribbs’ arm wrapped securely around her shoulders and further, that she had been cuddled up with her DS, in that arms-around-the-waist, head-on-the-shoulder way that was popular in old black and whites. For a second, Ash just rested there, surprised at how comfortable it felt, even though she knew she should be scandalized to be in such a position.
“Morning, sleepyhead,” Scribbs teased, “did you sleep well?”
Ash slowly straightened and stretched her back and neck. “Yes, actually, I did.”
“No nightmares, then?”
“Nary a one.” Ash looked around; they were still outside the club, but it was dark. “What’s happening?”
“Nothing. I’m beginning to think he’s on to us.” Scribbs noticed Ash’s increasingly worried expression, and said, “You were only asleep for about an hour.”
“And how did I get, um…?”
“Wrapped around me like a drunk slapper?” Ash’s eyes narrowed at the characterization, and she looked like she was about to lecture, so Scribbs relented and explained, “You kinda slid down the seat and your head came to rest on my shoulder. Next thing I knew, you were all over me.” Ash blushed. “I put my arm up and around because I didn’t want you to get a crick in your neck.”
“Thanks. I can’t believe I did that.”
Scribbs thought for a minute. “Maybe it was your subconscious.” At Ash’s puzzled look, she continued, “You know, fulfilling an unconscious need for human contact or something. I was reading this article…”
“Scribbs.” Ash pointed out the window. “I think that’s our guy.”
***
Scribbs woke to a pounding, and for once it wasn’t one behind her eyes from too much drink. Groaning, she rolled over and glared at the clock, the red numbers swimming in front of her eyes. Who might be pounding on her door at 2 AM was not even a question in her mind as she stumbled through her flat and flung open the door. “Can’t this wait til morning?” she asked the brunette on her stoop.
“About that article….”
“Oh, the one you called absolute rubbish earlier this evening? What about it?” Scribbs asked sleepily, leaning against the edge of the door and rubbing her eyes. She finally took in her partner, in her pajamas and dressing gown, dark circles under her eyes, fidgeting on her doormat. “Nightmares?”
Ash nodded. “I don’t even remember them, but it seems like every time I close my eyes, I wake up a few minutes later in a panic.”
Scribbs reached out and took Ash’s hand, drawing her in and through the living room. She felt Ash start to pull away as she led her into the bedroom. “Come on.” Scribbs walked around to the right side of the bed and got in. “And don’t worry, I changed the sheets before I went to bed.” Ash gave her speculative look but said nothing; she just set her cellphone on the bedside table and dropped her dressing gown at the foot of the bed. Feeling Ash settle onto the bed, Scribbs rolled over and slid an arm around her waist.
Ash stiffened immediately. “Scribbs, what are my rules about sharing a bed?”
“No stray limbs, I know, but you weren’t abiding by your rules in the car today, now, were you? Besides, if that article is correct, this is what you need. Now sleep, Ash.” And so she did.
Ash woke just before dawn, once again feeling rested, but she was missing the heavy weight of Scribbs draped across her. Rolling over, she was relieved to find Scribbs still in bed with her, and she wasted no time in snuggling up against the other woman, her eyes closing as soon as she was comfortable again.
“Scribbins,” Scribbs said to a dead line, before poking Ash to wake her. “Ash, your phone.”
A second later came Ash’s sleep-slurred voice: “Ashurst.”
“Sorry, did I wake you?”
“No, I mean, yes, but it’s okay. I should be up. What can I do for you, boss?”
“We’ve got some new evidence in your murder investigation. I think you might want to re-interview your suspect again.”
“Right. I’ll call Scribbs…”
“No need. I’ve…” A ring sounded on the other side of the bed, and Ash reached around to try to grab Scribbs’ arm to keep her from answering her phone, “…asked someone to ring her.”
“Scribbins.” Scribbs’ voice sounded incredibly loud in the room and Ash winced at the silence on the other end of her phone. Scribbs laughed at something the other person said before replying, “We’ll be in shortly. Have the coffee made.”
“Is that…?” Sullivan began, his tone subdued. He hurriedly cleared his throat to forestall any response. “Right, then. See you at the station,” he said briskly before hanging up the phone.
Ash turned to stare at her partner in horror.
“What?” asked the oblivious Scribbs.