storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2015-02-08 08:00 pm
storypaint) wrote2015-02-08 08:00 pm
[Sherlock Holmes] the only broken instrument that works (Holmes/Watson)
Title: the only broken instrument that works
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Length: 516 words
Prompt: Sherlock Holmes fic battle: any universe, any pairing, Train -- 50 Ways to Say Goodbye
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Other: Set in a modern AU-verse where both Holmes and Watson are women who started their partnership in college. The time frame on this is post-Reichenbach, after Professor Moriarty got Shirley expelled.
Excerpt: Now she went to the store alone. She was in and out in twenty minutes tops, her list pre-organized carefully by aisle, and no surprises lurked in the bottom of her cart, no e-cig cartridges or weird fruits or trashy tabloids. She certainly never spent half an hour grilling the cashier about recent robberies.
It was strange to go places alone, Jane thought, and then she snorted at herself. It wasn't as if she never left the apartment without someone else along; she'd always gone alone to classes she didn't share and to work. She hadn't realized, somehow, that Shirley had managed to insert herself into so much of Jane's life. It made sense when you were dating someone that you'd go to the grocery store together, or to the movies, or wherever.
Now she went to the store alone. She was in and out in twenty minutes tops, her list pre-organized carefully by aisle, and no surprises lurked in the bottom of her cart, no e-cig cartridges or weird fruits or trashy tabloids. She certainly never spent half an hour grilling the cashier about recent robberies.
So she ended up in the corner bar by herself, some Saturdays, nursing the same drink all night and trying to convince herself that she should actually return the flirtatious attentions of the bartender. Somehow she was never quite convincing enough.
"So," the bartender said one evening, running her rag over Jane's part of the bar again, even though it wasn't any dirtier than it had been fifteen minutes ago, "you were friends with that crazy detective chick, right? The one who liked to come in here and ask really pointed questions?"
Jane nodded a little.
"I haven't seen that chick in ages. What happened to her? Someone finally punch her for being nosy? You break up?"
The woman's face was sincere with interest. Jane shook her head, unable to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. She took a long sip of her drink.
"She doesn't go to school here anymore," she decided to say. The bartender shrugged.
"Lots of kids never finish."
Jane got up from her seat, tossing down a couple of dollars for the drink. She met the bartender's eyes. The lump in her throat was gone now, replaced by irritation.
"She got expelled on the word of the biggest liar in Connecticut. She's going to come back. And when she does, she'll probably be the one to get you arrested for selling Adderall under the counter, so I suggest you stop now and save her the trouble."
There were half a dozen little clues that Jane had picked up in the past couple of months. Shirley would probably have fifteen more and a list of the bartender's buyers, but Jane wasn't really on that level yet. She probably had enough to interest the police at least a little, but somehow she just didn't have the energy for it. She couldn't stand the idea of working a case alone.
The bartender's eyes went wide and she began to stammer a denial, but Jane had turned to go, not listening, a hand unconsciously clenched into a fist.
The next time someone asked her where Shirley was, she was just going to make something up.
That was easier than explaining that she was really gone.
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Length: 516 words
Prompt: Sherlock Holmes fic battle: any universe, any pairing, Train -- 50 Ways to Say Goodbye
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Other: Set in a modern AU-verse where both Holmes and Watson are women who started their partnership in college. The time frame on this is post-Reichenbach, after Professor Moriarty got Shirley expelled.
Excerpt: Now she went to the store alone. She was in and out in twenty minutes tops, her list pre-organized carefully by aisle, and no surprises lurked in the bottom of her cart, no e-cig cartridges or weird fruits or trashy tabloids. She certainly never spent half an hour grilling the cashier about recent robberies.
It was strange to go places alone, Jane thought, and then she snorted at herself. It wasn't as if she never left the apartment without someone else along; she'd always gone alone to classes she didn't share and to work. She hadn't realized, somehow, that Shirley had managed to insert herself into so much of Jane's life. It made sense when you were dating someone that you'd go to the grocery store together, or to the movies, or wherever.
Now she went to the store alone. She was in and out in twenty minutes tops, her list pre-organized carefully by aisle, and no surprises lurked in the bottom of her cart, no e-cig cartridges or weird fruits or trashy tabloids. She certainly never spent half an hour grilling the cashier about recent robberies.
So she ended up in the corner bar by herself, some Saturdays, nursing the same drink all night and trying to convince herself that she should actually return the flirtatious attentions of the bartender. Somehow she was never quite convincing enough.
"So," the bartender said one evening, running her rag over Jane's part of the bar again, even though it wasn't any dirtier than it had been fifteen minutes ago, "you were friends with that crazy detective chick, right? The one who liked to come in here and ask really pointed questions?"
Jane nodded a little.
"I haven't seen that chick in ages. What happened to her? Someone finally punch her for being nosy? You break up?"
The woman's face was sincere with interest. Jane shook her head, unable to speak around the sudden lump in her throat. She took a long sip of her drink.
"She doesn't go to school here anymore," she decided to say. The bartender shrugged.
"Lots of kids never finish."
Jane got up from her seat, tossing down a couple of dollars for the drink. She met the bartender's eyes. The lump in her throat was gone now, replaced by irritation.
"She got expelled on the word of the biggest liar in Connecticut. She's going to come back. And when she does, she'll probably be the one to get you arrested for selling Adderall under the counter, so I suggest you stop now and save her the trouble."
There were half a dozen little clues that Jane had picked up in the past couple of months. Shirley would probably have fifteen more and a list of the bartender's buyers, but Jane wasn't really on that level yet. She probably had enough to interest the police at least a little, but somehow she just didn't have the energy for it. She couldn't stand the idea of working a case alone.
The bartender's eyes went wide and she began to stammer a denial, but Jane had turned to go, not listening, a hand unconsciously clenched into a fist.
The next time someone asked her where Shirley was, she was just going to make something up.
That was easier than explaining that she was really gone.