storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2015-02-08 07:40 pm
storypaint) wrote2015-02-08 07:40 pm
[Sherlock Holmes] the odd half of a pair of scissors (Jane/Shirley)
Title: the odd half of a pair of scissors
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Length: 621 words
Prompt: Sherlock Holmes fic battle: modernverse, Jane/Shirley, domestic/married life
Pairing: Jane/Shirley established
Other: Set in a modern AU-verse where both Holmes and Watson are women who started their partnership in college.
Excerpt: Jane unlocks the front door and is bowled over by dogs. She leans down to accept their offering of affection, and when she straightens, she sees Shirley silhouetted in the door to the kitchen. Shirley is wearing an apron over top her favorite bathrobe, so she probably didn't have a case today.
Jane unlocks the front door and is bowled over by dogs. She leans down to accept their offering of affection, and when she straightens, she sees Shirley silhouetted in the door to the kitchen. Shirley is wearing an apron over top her favorite bathrobe, so she probably didn't have a case today. One or the other would suggest otherwise; the apron alone would say she'd felt playful after a long, satisfying day at work, and the bathrobe itself would suggest that she needed a rest after a long day. Or that she'd spent the day catatonic, thinking.
"I just started dinner. I heard on the police scanner that there was a big wreck on Howe. I didn't think you'd be home until late," Shirley states.
Jane finally pushes the dogs away and finds her feet, shaking her head and pulling off her coat.
"I was already on my way," she says, hanging the coat up and wading through animal to wrap her arms around Shirley. Shirley hugs her back, but only briefly, as the stove timer is going off. She works at the counter as Jane sinks into a chair, rubbing at the small of her back. Sometimes she feels a lot older than 30, but every time she voices that thought Shirley mocks her gently with a litany of the trouble that she gets up to by choice. And what can Jane say? Being a full-time doctor and a part-time assistant detective is all she's ever wanted to do.
"Don't catch your sleeve on the burner," Jane offers. Shirley grumbles. She's only done it once, she'd say, but when she says that, it always makes Jane laugh and laugh.
After dinner, they curl up in a lump on the bed, Jane and Shirley and as much dog as can fit. Shirley has her tablet and a Google alert for horrible murders. Jane is studying the bones of the hand; she's thinking about specializing in orthopedics. The dogs are snoring. Jane leans on Shirley's shoulder and reads about an unfortunate victim who was cut into pieces slowly and left in trashbags across the state of Arizona. She shudders.
Shirley shakes her head. "We'd have solved that in a week," she says disdainfully.
"I'd hope so," Jane says, eyes skimming down to the bottom of the article. "Maybe the second person wouldn't have had to suffer. Or the third."
"How do you feel about a vacation to Arizona?" Shirley asks, eyes bright with interest now.
"I keep telling you, you can't call it a vacation when it's for work," Jane says severely, but her lingering glance betrays her interest. Shirley is already dialing her contacts at the airport. Jane was pretty sure that most people didn't have their informants on speed dial. (As long as Shirley kept her as speed dial 2, though, she didn't feel too bad about priorities.)
While Shirley is on the phone, Jane starts pulling down their suitcase and packing. It is a familiar dance by now and she knows what to bring, tucking the tools of Shirley's trade in next to her favorite shampoo and extra stethoscope. She's counting vacation days in her head, working out the mundane details.
"The game is afoot!" Shirley declares, clicking off the phone, and she completely deserves the tickling that she gets from Jane in response, especially when it is followed with a pleasant hour of blowing off steam, the murders most emphatically forgotten. When they emerge from their bedroom, warm and satisfied, Jane places the suitcase near the door and trails her wife into the shower.
Tomorrow will come early. The airport will be gray and inconvenient and Watson will wonder if it's worth it.
But Shirley always is.
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Length: 621 words
Prompt: Sherlock Holmes fic battle: modernverse, Jane/Shirley, domestic/married life
Pairing: Jane/Shirley established
Other: Set in a modern AU-verse where both Holmes and Watson are women who started their partnership in college.
Excerpt: Jane unlocks the front door and is bowled over by dogs. She leans down to accept their offering of affection, and when she straightens, she sees Shirley silhouetted in the door to the kitchen. Shirley is wearing an apron over top her favorite bathrobe, so she probably didn't have a case today.
Jane unlocks the front door and is bowled over by dogs. She leans down to accept their offering of affection, and when she straightens, she sees Shirley silhouetted in the door to the kitchen. Shirley is wearing an apron over top her favorite bathrobe, so she probably didn't have a case today. One or the other would suggest otherwise; the apron alone would say she'd felt playful after a long, satisfying day at work, and the bathrobe itself would suggest that she needed a rest after a long day. Or that she'd spent the day catatonic, thinking.
"I just started dinner. I heard on the police scanner that there was a big wreck on Howe. I didn't think you'd be home until late," Shirley states.
Jane finally pushes the dogs away and finds her feet, shaking her head and pulling off her coat.
"I was already on my way," she says, hanging the coat up and wading through animal to wrap her arms around Shirley. Shirley hugs her back, but only briefly, as the stove timer is going off. She works at the counter as Jane sinks into a chair, rubbing at the small of her back. Sometimes she feels a lot older than 30, but every time she voices that thought Shirley mocks her gently with a litany of the trouble that she gets up to by choice. And what can Jane say? Being a full-time doctor and a part-time assistant detective is all she's ever wanted to do.
"Don't catch your sleeve on the burner," Jane offers. Shirley grumbles. She's only done it once, she'd say, but when she says that, it always makes Jane laugh and laugh.
After dinner, they curl up in a lump on the bed, Jane and Shirley and as much dog as can fit. Shirley has her tablet and a Google alert for horrible murders. Jane is studying the bones of the hand; she's thinking about specializing in orthopedics. The dogs are snoring. Jane leans on Shirley's shoulder and reads about an unfortunate victim who was cut into pieces slowly and left in trashbags across the state of Arizona. She shudders.
Shirley shakes her head. "We'd have solved that in a week," she says disdainfully.
"I'd hope so," Jane says, eyes skimming down to the bottom of the article. "Maybe the second person wouldn't have had to suffer. Or the third."
"How do you feel about a vacation to Arizona?" Shirley asks, eyes bright with interest now.
"I keep telling you, you can't call it a vacation when it's for work," Jane says severely, but her lingering glance betrays her interest. Shirley is already dialing her contacts at the airport. Jane was pretty sure that most people didn't have their informants on speed dial. (As long as Shirley kept her as speed dial 2, though, she didn't feel too bad about priorities.)
While Shirley is on the phone, Jane starts pulling down their suitcase and packing. It is a familiar dance by now and she knows what to bring, tucking the tools of Shirley's trade in next to her favorite shampoo and extra stethoscope. She's counting vacation days in her head, working out the mundane details.
"The game is afoot!" Shirley declares, clicking off the phone, and she completely deserves the tickling that she gets from Jane in response, especially when it is followed with a pleasant hour of blowing off steam, the murders most emphatically forgotten. When they emerge from their bedroom, warm and satisfied, Jane places the suitcase near the door and trails her wife into the shower.
Tomorrow will come early. The airport will be gray and inconvenient and Watson will wonder if it's worth it.
But Shirley always is.