Prompt fic...fun prompts!
Dec. 6th, 2015 12:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
catkoTitle: Well, That Wasn't What I Expected To Happen
Fandom: Elementary
Prompts + links to prompts: Embedded links in blue
Word Count: 310
“These shoes are made for walking, not running,” proclaimed Sherlock, as he bent, rather solicitously actually, over Joan, who had pulled herself onto a doorstep of a building on the side-street off of Park. “Don’t you think you should be trying to catch him?” said Joan testily, gesturing down the street after a figure in a black leather jacket, who was turning onto Park and disappearing in the throng.
Sherlock waved his hands as he settled on the stoop next to her and bent to peer at her ankle, which she was rubbing gingerly. “It’s no matter. We clearly had no inkling we would run into Mallory, or we would have been better prepared.” He gestured again toward her footwear. “This indicates to me that it will not be difficult to, shall we say, run into him again. In that future case, I might recommend, literally. Sprained, not broken, yes?” He looked up at her.
“Hmm, yes, thank god,” Joan groaned slightly as she moved to lever herself to a standing position. “Well, we just can’t sit here all day. Better get a cab home.” She squinted up and down the side street and looked a bit dismayed.
Sherlock stood abruptly. “Never catch a cab here, best get down to The Avenue,” he said briskly, and in one sudden move, half-bent and scooped Joan into his arms.
“Aacck!” Joan cried. “What are you doing? Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle." Resolutely, Sherlock proceeded down the sidewalk. “Tcha-tcha, Watson, patience. We must preserve your ankle, not to mention your designer footwear, for the morrow, when we will again venture out and attempt to flag down our witness. Until then…a taxi.” Having reached the corner of Park Avenue, he managed to wave imperiously at a fortuitously oncoming cab, while keeping a comfortable yet respectable grip on his detecting partner.
Fandom: Elementary
Prompts + links to prompts: Embedded links in blue
Word Count: 310
“These shoes are made for walking, not running,” proclaimed Sherlock, as he bent, rather solicitously actually, over Joan, who had pulled herself onto a doorstep of a building on the side-street off of Park. “Don’t you think you should be trying to catch him?” said Joan testily, gesturing down the street after a figure in a black leather jacket, who was turning onto Park and disappearing in the throng.
Sherlock waved his hands as he settled on the stoop next to her and bent to peer at her ankle, which she was rubbing gingerly. “It’s no matter. We clearly had no inkling we would run into Mallory, or we would have been better prepared.” He gestured again toward her footwear. “This indicates to me that it will not be difficult to, shall we say, run into him again. In that future case, I might recommend, literally. Sprained, not broken, yes?” He looked up at her.
“Hmm, yes, thank god,” Joan groaned slightly as she moved to lever herself to a standing position. “Well, we just can’t sit here all day. Better get a cab home.” She squinted up and down the side street and looked a bit dismayed.
Sherlock stood abruptly. “Never catch a cab here, best get down to The Avenue,” he said briskly, and in one sudden move, half-bent and scooped Joan into his arms.
“Aacck!” Joan cried. “What are you doing? Please put me down, it’s just a sprained ankle." Resolutely, Sherlock proceeded down the sidewalk. “Tcha-tcha, Watson, patience. We must preserve your ankle, not to mention your designer footwear, for the morrow, when we will again venture out and attempt to flag down our witness. Until then…a taxi.” Having reached the corner of Park Avenue, he managed to wave imperiously at a fortuitously oncoming cab, while keeping a comfortable yet respectable grip on his detecting partner.
