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Writing Meme

Meme stolen from capt_spork and suzie_shooter (which probably means I should post this twice but I'm not going to...).

The first TEN people to comment get to request that I write a drabble/ficlet on any Sherlock pairing/character of their choosing.*

In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.**

(1)  suzie_shooter Sherlock/Lestrade    Coffee
(2)  kalypso_v   Harry/Sarah with a side order of horrified!John Water
(3) capt_spork    Sherlock/Lestrade or just Lestrade   Sauce
(4) bedamn   Harry/Clara  Juice
(5)  blooms84    John  Tea
(6) misanthropyray   dark!Sherlock/John  Absinthe
(7) shehasathree Sherlock/John or John+Sherlock  Milk
(8) the_thinktank   John/Lestrade Barack
(9) ginbitch   Lestrade/Maurice  Madeira
(10) stellary Mycroft/Lestrade  Pop

* it has to be Sherlock because I don't write in any other fandom - but yes, you can ask for Lestrade/Maurice, or for characters mentioned but not yet seen (e.g. Harry, Clara).

**except that I am doing the suzie_shooter variation on the meme, in which this is not compulsory.


Mar. 6th, 2011 07:39 pm (UTC)

Half-way through his shower, Lestrade realizes he's singing that HP sauce ad from years back, the one they did to “In The Summertime”. It's been ages since he had brown sauce for breakfast, but this morning he'd really fancied a full English for once. Probably not a good idea to go for a run on top of that, though. Do it the other way round next time. If there is a next time.

He's still whistling it when he gets to the Yard.

“It's October,” Dimmock says reprovingly. Never afraid to state the obvious.

“I know,” Lestrade says, grinning.

So it is. That sort of October day that always feels like the start of something, even though the leaves are turning colour or already fallen. Crisp blue sky and a different kind of light somehow.

“You're in a good mood today,” Donovan says.

Sounding surprised. Relieved, too. OK, he's been on a short fuse recently, bit down in the mouth, but he hadn't realized it'd been that bad.

“Nice day,” he says.

Which doesn't begin to describe it. Knew something was different as soon as he woke up, took him a while to realize what. It was gone: that feeling he'd had for the last few months. All that confusion and unhappiness about Sherlock, weighing him down like a fucking albatross round his neck. Wanting Sherlock, wondering if Sherlock had ever wanted him or ever would, trying not to think about that weird night they'd had together and what it all meant. If it meant anything at all.

But today he'd woken up thinking Bloody hell, I'm starving. Looking out at the sunshine, feeling his heart lift.

Finally ditched the albatross. He grins.

“Must be shagging someone,” Tyler mutters.

“'Bout time,” Donovan says. “Just so long as it's not him.”

She's stopped calling Sherlock Freak, but Lestrade knows who she means.

“Shh,” Smith says. “He's not deaf, you know.”

An hour or so later there's a bunch of them round Donovan's desk, laughing and squabbling. Sound of pound coins dropping into a biscuit tin. Huh.

They're so preoccupied they don't notice him, and he sees the heading on the sheet before Donovan can shove it out of sight.

DI's New Boyfriend Sweepstake: £1 a ticket

Everybody knows this sort of thing goes on. Sauce, Annie the cook at the big house would have called it. That's enough of your sauce, you cheeky bugger.

Donovan's face says she's expecting him to call it something worse than that. Insubordination, most likely. Christ knows, these days it probably counts as sexual harassment into the bargain.

Everyone's gone very quiet.

Lestrade digs in his pocket and pulls out a pound coin.

“Put me down for a ticket,” he says. “Better not tell me who I get in the draw, though. Might prejudice the result. Don't want a stewards' enquiry.”

Donovan manages a shaky smile. He drops his coin into the tin with the rest and she puts the lid on it.

“OK,” he says. “Let's get ready for that press conference.”

His phone buzzes. Text from Sherlock, saying “Wrong!”

“He's starting early,” Donovan says.

“Must be at a loose end,” Lestrade says.

He deletes the text, whistling again. Because whatever Sherlock might think to the contrary, Lestrade can feel it in his bones: this is one of those rare days when everything goes right.

Edited at 2011-03-06 08:19 pm (UTC)
(Deleted comment)
Mar. 6th, 2011 11:35 pm (UTC)
Re: Sauce
thank you very much! *sporfles happily*

yes, there seems to be a liquid theme - though I don't know how long it will last.

I've been thinking about Lestrade and that October day and the sweepstake for a long time, but never found the right mood or frame of mind to write it. so I'm very glad that capt_spork prompted it this time.


scallop voices


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