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vocab_drabbles2023-01-10 12:56 pm
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote in vocab_drabbles2023-01-10 12:56 pm
Entry tags:
#42: BBC Sherlock AU: Gen
Title: Edify
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Notes: Genderswapped Johnlock. Goes with this picture prompt "I don't think this is the trail."
Summary: John is disappointed.
“I don’t think this is the trail,” said John to herself, turning her torch from the tracks in the snow to her own face and momentarily blinding herself.
“And I was so hoping that for once in my life, I’d get the scoop on the great Sherlock Holmes,” she groaned.
Bundled up, in coat, hat, scarf, and two layers of gloves, her satchel slung across her chest, John sighed in defeat, and then heard a noise and froze.
In the darkness, something moved. Then it took shape, a shape John recognised quicker than her own.
“Sherlock!”
“There you are.”
“Here I am,” said John dejectedly. “This is not the trail.”
“No,” agreed Sherlock. “But it is a trail, and it tells us something very valuable.”
“What?” grunted John, incredulous.
“That we’re not the only ones searching. The tracks of another tracker.”
John hummed. Sherlock continued,
“Did you know that you must shake a live crab before buying and reject it if it sounds to contain water.”
“No,” said John, snorting.
“I’ve been having a conversation with our landlady at The Mousehole. Most edifying. Come on, let’s go back and have supper. We need to revise our plan.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“If I’m not mistaken…”
“Crab?”
“Yes.”
“Serves us right for taking our seaside holiday in the middle of a blizzard.”
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Notes: Genderswapped Johnlock. Goes with this picture prompt "I don't think this is the trail."
Summary: John is disappointed.
“I don’t think this is the trail,” said John to herself, turning her torch from the tracks in the snow to her own face and momentarily blinding herself.
“And I was so hoping that for once in my life, I’d get the scoop on the great Sherlock Holmes,” she groaned.
Bundled up, in coat, hat, scarf, and two layers of gloves, her satchel slung across her chest, John sighed in defeat, and then heard a noise and froze.
In the darkness, something moved. Then it took shape, a shape John recognised quicker than her own.
“Sherlock!”
“There you are.”
“Here I am,” said John dejectedly. “This is not the trail.”
“No,” agreed Sherlock. “But it is a trail, and it tells us something very valuable.”
“What?” grunted John, incredulous.
“That we’re not the only ones searching. The tracks of another tracker.”
John hummed. Sherlock continued,
“Did you know that you must shake a live crab before buying and reject it if it sounds to contain water.”
“No,” said John, snorting.
“I’ve been having a conversation with our landlady at The Mousehole. Most edifying. Come on, let’s go back and have supper. We need to revise our plan.”
“What’s on the menu?”
“If I’m not mistaken…”
“Crab?”
“Yes.”
“Serves us right for taking our seaside holiday in the middle of a blizzard.”