storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2013-03-16 09:41 pm
storypaint) wrote2013-03-16 09:41 pm
[Elementary/Community] mirrors into windows (Jeff gen)
Title: mirrors into windows
Fandom: Elementary/Community
Length: 768 words
Prompt: Elementary Sherlock meets Community, for Jansen
Pairing: Jeff gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "Detectiving 101," the professor says, and he has a crisp British accent that makes Jeff want to groan and slide down in his seat. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my teaching assistant, Joan Watson."
It's Annie's idea. Of course it's Annie's idea. She looked at them all with those terrible puppy dog eyes. If she ever manages to figure out how to combine them with some kind of sexuality, no man on Earth will be safe.
"Detectiving 101," the professor says, and he has a crisp British accent that makes Jeff want to groan and slide down in his seat. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my teaching assistant, Joan Watson."
The beautiful woman rolls her eyes and Jeff straightens up in his seat and starts making a plan to get her number. Annie kicks him under the table.
"Excuse me?" Garrett says, raising his hand, and of course it's Garrett who is trying to ruin their fun. "Did you say Sherlock Holmes? As in the comic book detective who fought crime in the late nineteenth century?"
Professor Holmes makes the sort of face that suggests he's just swallowed a lemon. "I can only assume my father was a fan. Wear a deerstalker to class and I will fail you."
"Can we just get on with it?" Watson says, sounding impatient.
"Right," Sherlock says. He paces back and forth in front of the whiteboard for a moment. Then he stops in front of the study group, pointing at them down the line, one by one.
"You married the same man twice -- " he said, pointing at Shirley, "although this time it seems to be happy. You aren't actually texting anyone, you're only pretending -- ;" to Jeff, who starts and then frowns at the instructor, "You used to play football;" -- Troy, of course, who stares back with obvious awe; and on he goes.
"These are the sort of things you would learn in this class," he says. "How to deduce the truth about people from the tiniest facts about them."
Annie sits up straighter in her seat, even though a minute earlier he'd told the entire class that she was also a recovering addict.
"Or you would, anyway," he says, whirling around with a flourish, "if I weren't here simply to question a murder suspect. You'll find Professor Hart locked in his office. And you in the back there --"
Chang bursts up from his seat and rushes for the door in a blur of speed.
"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!" he shrieks as he flees.
"Right," Sherlock says. "Right... I was actually wanting to talk to Mr. Hawthorne."
No one expresses any surprise.
"Sherlock, you didn't tell me you locked him in--" Watson says, her brow furrowing, as Sherlock ignores her.
Abed raises his hand. Sherlock squints at him.
"Still no deerstalkers," he says. Abed drops his hand. "The rest of you may go. Deduce some things."
He waves a hand and the class files out before he can change his mind. Jeff is attempting valiantly to disappear before Annie can grab hold of him and ask him to help Pierce. A tiny hand grabs hold of his belt and he stops and sighs.
"Murder is a pretty serious charge, Annie, and if you haven't forgotten, I'm not technically a lawyer again--"
But the person clinging to his arm is actually the Dean. He stares up at Jeff, whimpering.
"Jeffrey!" the Dean whispers in the middle of the crowded hallway. "You have to help me. The famed detective Sherlock Holmes is here on my campus, and I'm sure he's finally broken my off-label designer clothes trafficking ring on EBay. You have to hide me! Preferably in your apartment. I can be very grateful."
Jeff has an idea of what grateful looks like to the Dean. So he wrests himself free and stomps back into the classroom.
"Pierce Hawthorne is innocent, and I intend to prove it," he declares to the room, which contains the study group and the detective.
"First, let me leave my contact information with Ms. Watson in case you need to speak to me later," he begins, pulling a slip of paper from his pants pocket and scribbling his phone number on it. But the lovely woman isn't there, and he looks around in disappointment.
"Britta and Joan went to let Professor Hart out of his own office," Troy informs Jeff helpfully.
Jeff is disappointed, but Holmes is looking at him with an amused sort of smirk.
"Go on, then," he says. "Prove it."
Twenty minutes later, Pierce, Chang, and the Dean are all being settled into the back of two squad cars. The man who arrests Pierce is polite, and has excellent taste in shoes.
All in all, Jeff thinks, he's probably already earned an A.
Fandom: Elementary/Community
Length: 768 words
Prompt: Elementary Sherlock meets Community, for Jansen
Pairing: Jeff gen
Other: n/a
Excerpt: "Detectiving 101," the professor says, and he has a crisp British accent that makes Jeff want to groan and slide down in his seat. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my teaching assistant, Joan Watson."
It's Annie's idea. Of course it's Annie's idea. She looked at them all with those terrible puppy dog eyes. If she ever manages to figure out how to combine them with some kind of sexuality, no man on Earth will be safe.
"Detectiving 101," the professor says, and he has a crisp British accent that makes Jeff want to groan and slide down in his seat. "I'm Sherlock Holmes, and this is my teaching assistant, Joan Watson."
The beautiful woman rolls her eyes and Jeff straightens up in his seat and starts making a plan to get her number. Annie kicks him under the table.
"Excuse me?" Garrett says, raising his hand, and of course it's Garrett who is trying to ruin their fun. "Did you say Sherlock Holmes? As in the comic book detective who fought crime in the late nineteenth century?"
Professor Holmes makes the sort of face that suggests he's just swallowed a lemon. "I can only assume my father was a fan. Wear a deerstalker to class and I will fail you."
"Can we just get on with it?" Watson says, sounding impatient.
"Right," Sherlock says. He paces back and forth in front of the whiteboard for a moment. Then he stops in front of the study group, pointing at them down the line, one by one.
"You married the same man twice -- " he said, pointing at Shirley, "although this time it seems to be happy. You aren't actually texting anyone, you're only pretending -- ;" to Jeff, who starts and then frowns at the instructor, "You used to play football;" -- Troy, of course, who stares back with obvious awe; and on he goes.
"These are the sort of things you would learn in this class," he says. "How to deduce the truth about people from the tiniest facts about them."
Annie sits up straighter in her seat, even though a minute earlier he'd told the entire class that she was also a recovering addict.
"Or you would, anyway," he says, whirling around with a flourish, "if I weren't here simply to question a murder suspect. You'll find Professor Hart locked in his office. And you in the back there --"
Chang bursts up from his seat and rushes for the door in a blur of speed.
"YOU'LL NEVER CATCH ME ALIVE!" he shrieks as he flees.
"Right," Sherlock says. "Right... I was actually wanting to talk to Mr. Hawthorne."
No one expresses any surprise.
"Sherlock, you didn't tell me you locked him in--" Watson says, her brow furrowing, as Sherlock ignores her.
Abed raises his hand. Sherlock squints at him.
"Still no deerstalkers," he says. Abed drops his hand. "The rest of you may go. Deduce some things."
He waves a hand and the class files out before he can change his mind. Jeff is attempting valiantly to disappear before Annie can grab hold of him and ask him to help Pierce. A tiny hand grabs hold of his belt and he stops and sighs.
"Murder is a pretty serious charge, Annie, and if you haven't forgotten, I'm not technically a lawyer again--"
But the person clinging to his arm is actually the Dean. He stares up at Jeff, whimpering.
"Jeffrey!" the Dean whispers in the middle of the crowded hallway. "You have to help me. The famed detective Sherlock Holmes is here on my campus, and I'm sure he's finally broken my off-label designer clothes trafficking ring on EBay. You have to hide me! Preferably in your apartment. I can be very grateful."
Jeff has an idea of what grateful looks like to the Dean. So he wrests himself free and stomps back into the classroom.
"Pierce Hawthorne is innocent, and I intend to prove it," he declares to the room, which contains the study group and the detective.
"First, let me leave my contact information with Ms. Watson in case you need to speak to me later," he begins, pulling a slip of paper from his pants pocket and scribbling his phone number on it. But the lovely woman isn't there, and he looks around in disappointment.
"Britta and Joan went to let Professor Hart out of his own office," Troy informs Jeff helpfully.
Jeff is disappointed, but Holmes is looking at him with an amused sort of smirk.
"Go on, then," he says. "Prove it."
Twenty minutes later, Pierce, Chang, and the Dean are all being settled into the back of two squad cars. The man who arrests Pierce is polite, and has excellent taste in shoes.
All in all, Jeff thinks, he's probably already earned an A.