Fanfic: Sunday in the Park with Sherlock
Sep. 20th, 2010 08:09 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trillsabellsTitle: Sunday in the Park with Sherlock
Beta: The now famous![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jupiter_ash
Rating: PG (for severed ears)
Characters: John & Sherlock
Summary: A volcano goes off and John and Sherlock decide to go to the park. Or rather John decides they should go to the park and Sherlock tries to keep himself entertained.
Some fluff for a change!
John lay back on the grass and closed his eyes against the sun. He stretched slightly, letting his aching shoulder relax, and made himself comfortable. He could hear the slight breeze moving the bloom filled trees and the sound of children’s laughter just close enough to be pleasant background noise but far enough away that his tranquillity wasn’t at risk of being disturbed.
Four days earlier a volcano had gone off in Iceland and since then England had been enjoying unseasonably wonderful weather. There wasn’t a plane in the sky and very few clouds either. The people of London were making the most of it. Like many of them John had looked out the window that morning and decided that a Sunday afternoon out in the park was exactly what they needed.
It had been two weeks since they’d been discharged from the hospital following the Moriarty incident. Everything been non-stop since and neither of them had really had the chance to heal fully. John demanded a day of doing nothing in the sun and had taken the liberty of prescribing one for Sherlock as well. The patient was not co-operating.
John barely had his eyes shut for five minutes when the tapping disturbed his serenity.
“Sherlock, put the phone away.”
Sherlock didn’t reply. The tapping continued.
“Sherlock, I said put it away. You’re not supposed to be texting people.”
“I’m just filling Lestrade in on some details-“
“Sherlock, you promised. No Lestrade, no cases, no phone, just one quiet afternoon relaxing in the park. Now please, put it away.”
There were a few more clicks, a huff and the sound of a mobile being slid back into a pocket.
Peace reigned, birds sang above and the London traffic was a distant dream. John sighed contentedly.
He heard the sound of someone rustling through a bag followed by liquid being poured.
“If you’re going for the tea Mrs Hudson made us, pour me a cup too,” John said.
There was more rustling and more pouring. It wasn’t until a cup of warm tea was placed by his arm that it occurred to John that if Sherlock had had to go through the bag to get the flask of tea out… what was he getting out the first time?
“Oh Sherlock, you didn’t bring one of your experiments did you?”
“The particular mixture of toxins needs to be constantly stirred to fully simulate the scenario of being in a continuously used pipe-“
“Sherlock, this is the park.”
“And I would much prefer to be doing this in the kitchen where the conditions can be more adequately controlled but you insisted on coming out here.”
“So we could relax. Cut loose. Heal. Not so you could play with your severed ear in public.”
“You know very well that I find the whole idea of spending an afternoon doing nothing… distasteful. And yet you were so insistent that we come out here that I agreed. But I am not about to let your flight of fancy interrupt vital experiments. Besides, you said, and I quote: ‘Bring something to do if you think you’ll get bored’.”
“I meant a book or something.”
“I brought a book as well, but this is important.”
“Sherlock, put it away before I throw it away.”
“And pollute the current environment? I hardly think you would do that.”
John heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s footsteps getting closer. He flung his eyes open, sat bolt upright and snatched the ear out of the margarine tub Sherlock was using as a container.
“Hey, kid.”
A boy in blue shorts and T-shirt came forward cautiously. John forced the ear into his hand.
“Here you go.”
“Cool!”
“Don’t tell your mum where you got it.”
John closed his eyes and lay back again as the little boy ran away. By the sound of it Sherlock hadn’t moved.
“Why did you give my ear away?”
“Because you’ve got plenty more at home and he didn’t have one. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share your toys?”
“I’m not a child, John,” Sherlock said reproachfully.
“Of course you’re not. Now put on some sun cream before you burn to a crisp.”
John heard Sherlock press the lid back onto the margarine tub and put it away. There was quietness for a while. A short while.
“Bored.”
“Are you telling me that the great Sherlock Holmes, brain the size of a planet, can’t think of something to keep himself occupied? Something that doesn’t involve body parts? Or moving?”
There was silence for a good ten minutes after that. Then very slowly it started to be disturbed by a slight mumbling noise. Slowly the mumbling grew into a muttering which was definitely coming from the direction of the man next to him. All at once it peaked into a,
“Ah! Of course. She’s ex-military like you. The father’s probably military as well and has a tendency to show up unannounced so she’s watching out for him. Obvious really. Child doesn’t show the same fear so clearly the father doesn’t actually intend any harm to either of them but mother has her own issues with him and wants him to stay away, although she’ll take his money-“
“Sherlock, what are you talking about?”
“The woman with the red-haired child over there. People are so dull and predictable but I need to watch them to keep in practice-“
“Is there anything you can do quietly?”
“I like to think out loud.”
“Well stop thinking then.”
There was a hesitation. A hesitation that said an awful lot. A hesitation that just radiated confusion. A hesitation that screamed just one word; how?
“Sherlock, you said you brought a book, right? Well just read your book.”
There was a moment of stillness followed by more rummaging in the bag. John felt Sherlock lie down next to him and snuggle into the grass. Finally came the peace and quiet John longed for. A slight nagging sensation, however, made him open his eyes and look over at Sherlock.
His friend was lying back with his eyes fixed purposefully on a book at least three inches thick. Curious, John leaned over to read the title. ‘An in-depth analysis of the Human Intestine.’
John smiled and let his eyes close again. This was about as normal as you got when spending your Sunday afternoon in the park with Sherlock Holmes. But at least that should keep him quiet for a while.
Beta: The now famous
jupiter_ash Rating: PG (for severed ears)
Characters: John & Sherlock
Summary: A volcano goes off and John and Sherlock decide to go to the park. Or rather John decides they should go to the park and Sherlock tries to keep himself entertained.
Some fluff for a change!
Sunday in the Park with Sherlock
John lay back on the grass and closed his eyes against the sun. He stretched slightly, letting his aching shoulder relax, and made himself comfortable. He could hear the slight breeze moving the bloom filled trees and the sound of children’s laughter just close enough to be pleasant background noise but far enough away that his tranquillity wasn’t at risk of being disturbed.
Four days earlier a volcano had gone off in Iceland and since then England had been enjoying unseasonably wonderful weather. There wasn’t a plane in the sky and very few clouds either. The people of London were making the most of it. Like many of them John had looked out the window that morning and decided that a Sunday afternoon out in the park was exactly what they needed.
It had been two weeks since they’d been discharged from the hospital following the Moriarty incident. Everything been non-stop since and neither of them had really had the chance to heal fully. John demanded a day of doing nothing in the sun and had taken the liberty of prescribing one for Sherlock as well. The patient was not co-operating.
John barely had his eyes shut for five minutes when the tapping disturbed his serenity.
“Sherlock, put the phone away.”
Sherlock didn’t reply. The tapping continued.
“Sherlock, I said put it away. You’re not supposed to be texting people.”
“I’m just filling Lestrade in on some details-“
“Sherlock, you promised. No Lestrade, no cases, no phone, just one quiet afternoon relaxing in the park. Now please, put it away.”
There were a few more clicks, a huff and the sound of a mobile being slid back into a pocket.
Peace reigned, birds sang above and the London traffic was a distant dream. John sighed contentedly.
He heard the sound of someone rustling through a bag followed by liquid being poured.
“If you’re going for the tea Mrs Hudson made us, pour me a cup too,” John said.
There was more rustling and more pouring. It wasn’t until a cup of warm tea was placed by his arm that it occurred to John that if Sherlock had had to go through the bag to get the flask of tea out… what was he getting out the first time?
“Oh Sherlock, you didn’t bring one of your experiments did you?”
“The particular mixture of toxins needs to be constantly stirred to fully simulate the scenario of being in a continuously used pipe-“
“Sherlock, this is the park.”
“And I would much prefer to be doing this in the kitchen where the conditions can be more adequately controlled but you insisted on coming out here.”
“So we could relax. Cut loose. Heal. Not so you could play with your severed ear in public.”
“You know very well that I find the whole idea of spending an afternoon doing nothing… distasteful. And yet you were so insistent that we come out here that I agreed. But I am not about to let your flight of fancy interrupt vital experiments. Besides, you said, and I quote: ‘Bring something to do if you think you’ll get bored’.”
“I meant a book or something.”
“I brought a book as well, but this is important.”
“Sherlock, put it away before I throw it away.”
“And pollute the current environment? I hardly think you would do that.”
John heard the unmistakable sound of a child’s footsteps getting closer. He flung his eyes open, sat bolt upright and snatched the ear out of the margarine tub Sherlock was using as a container.
“Hey, kid.”
A boy in blue shorts and T-shirt came forward cautiously. John forced the ear into his hand.
“Here you go.”
“Cool!”
“Don’t tell your mum where you got it.”
John closed his eyes and lay back again as the little boy ran away. By the sound of it Sherlock hadn’t moved.
“Why did you give my ear away?”
“Because you’ve got plenty more at home and he didn’t have one. Didn’t your mother ever teach you to share your toys?”
“I’m not a child, John,” Sherlock said reproachfully.
“Of course you’re not. Now put on some sun cream before you burn to a crisp.”
John heard Sherlock press the lid back onto the margarine tub and put it away. There was quietness for a while. A short while.
“Bored.”
“Are you telling me that the great Sherlock Holmes, brain the size of a planet, can’t think of something to keep himself occupied? Something that doesn’t involve body parts? Or moving?”
There was silence for a good ten minutes after that. Then very slowly it started to be disturbed by a slight mumbling noise. Slowly the mumbling grew into a muttering which was definitely coming from the direction of the man next to him. All at once it peaked into a,
“Ah! Of course. She’s ex-military like you. The father’s probably military as well and has a tendency to show up unannounced so she’s watching out for him. Obvious really. Child doesn’t show the same fear so clearly the father doesn’t actually intend any harm to either of them but mother has her own issues with him and wants him to stay away, although she’ll take his money-“
“Sherlock, what are you talking about?”
“The woman with the red-haired child over there. People are so dull and predictable but I need to watch them to keep in practice-“
“Is there anything you can do quietly?”
“I like to think out loud.”
“Well stop thinking then.”
There was a hesitation. A hesitation that said an awful lot. A hesitation that just radiated confusion. A hesitation that screamed just one word; how?
“Sherlock, you said you brought a book, right? Well just read your book.”
There was a moment of stillness followed by more rummaging in the bag. John felt Sherlock lie down next to him and snuggle into the grass. Finally came the peace and quiet John longed for. A slight nagging sensation, however, made him open his eyes and look over at Sherlock.
His friend was lying back with his eyes fixed purposefully on a book at least three inches thick. Curious, John leaned over to read the title. ‘An in-depth analysis of the Human Intestine.’
John smiled and let his eyes close again. This was about as normal as you got when spending your Sunday afternoon in the park with Sherlock Holmes. But at least that should keep him quiet for a while.
