storypaint (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
storypaint) wrote2015-02-16 04:20 pm
storypaint) wrote2015-02-16 04:20 pm
[Elementary/Doctor Who] the illusion is always one of normality (Sherlock gen)
Title: the illusion is always one of normality
Fandom: Elementary/Doctor Who
Length: 348 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: Elementary, Joan + Sherlock, Doctor Who AU
Pairing: Sherlock gen
Other: Doctor Who fusion, Elementary characters in the Doctor Who universe.
Excerpt: He loves it. There is nothing Sherlock loves more than space travel, and he'd thought there would never be anything better than being a detective. But now he is a detective in space.
She is... almost staid, most of the time. He'd never say that in her hearing, of course, but he wonders sometimes if the universe has begun to bore her, after traveling all these years. For a woman who can put on another body like he puts on a coat (albeit more messily, he'll give her that), she is quiet, practical, and efficient.
Sherlock wants to run down the corridors of the TARDIS until he finds what's at the end of them. Joan knows, and she just smiles and won't tell him.
He loves it. There is nothing Sherlock loves more than space travel, and he'd thought there would never be anything better than being a detective. But now he is a detective in space.
"Don't worry about the language barrier," she says, waving a hand and ushering him out of the police box. "The TARDIS takes care of it."
"But how?" he asks, and after they've nearly died twice, solved a murder, and done an impressive amount of running, Joan shows him the library. He doesn't come out for a week, which suits her fine since she has to take the TARDIS into the time vortex to do some complex repairs.
When he does emerge for needed rest and sustenance, he has spiked his hair up with frustration and he's wild-eyed and babbling.
"There are so many, so many-- lifetimes--"
Joan smiles. Her lipstick is perfect. The TARDIS is singing to her and she is humming under her breath, just a little.
"Remind me to take you to the Academy sometime," she says. "Now, there is a sunset on Ricodo II that we really should go see. There are four suns, and the they only set all together once every thousand years."
"Yes!" Sherlock says, and he's about to pass out from lack of sleep and sustenance, but he doesn't care, he bounces on his heels.
"Take a nap," she says, turning away from him toward the console. "You have time."
"You have time," he says, "you have time," and he dreams of far off stars.
Fandom: Elementary/Doctor Who
Length: 348 words
Prompt: fic_promptly: Elementary, Joan + Sherlock, Doctor Who AU
Pairing: Sherlock gen
Other: Doctor Who fusion, Elementary characters in the Doctor Who universe.
Excerpt: He loves it. There is nothing Sherlock loves more than space travel, and he'd thought there would never be anything better than being a detective. But now he is a detective in space.
She is... almost staid, most of the time. He'd never say that in her hearing, of course, but he wonders sometimes if the universe has begun to bore her, after traveling all these years. For a woman who can put on another body like he puts on a coat (albeit more messily, he'll give her that), she is quiet, practical, and efficient.
Sherlock wants to run down the corridors of the TARDIS until he finds what's at the end of them. Joan knows, and she just smiles and won't tell him.
He loves it. There is nothing Sherlock loves more than space travel, and he'd thought there would never be anything better than being a detective. But now he is a detective in space.
"Don't worry about the language barrier," she says, waving a hand and ushering him out of the police box. "The TARDIS takes care of it."
"But how?" he asks, and after they've nearly died twice, solved a murder, and done an impressive amount of running, Joan shows him the library. He doesn't come out for a week, which suits her fine since she has to take the TARDIS into the time vortex to do some complex repairs.
When he does emerge for needed rest and sustenance, he has spiked his hair up with frustration and he's wild-eyed and babbling.
"There are so many, so many-- lifetimes--"
Joan smiles. Her lipstick is perfect. The TARDIS is singing to her and she is humming under her breath, just a little.
"Remind me to take you to the Academy sometime," she says. "Now, there is a sunset on Ricodo II that we really should go see. There are four suns, and the they only set all together once every thousand years."
"Yes!" Sherlock says, and he's about to pass out from lack of sleep and sustenance, but he doesn't care, he bounces on his heels.
"Take a nap," she says, turning away from him toward the console. "You have time."
"You have time," he says, "you have time," and he dreams of far off stars.