[10 out of 20] BBC Sherlock: Sky: Gen
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sweetandshortTitle: Sky
Prompt: sky
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Length: 300
Rating: Gen
Note: OOC fluff
Summary: John's sad it's raining on midsummer eve.
“Damn,” said John as he studied the grey sky through the window. “It’s supposed to rain all day and all night.”
Sherlock made a noise but did not look up from his experiment.
“Some midsummer’s eve,” continued John gloomily. “Not the weather to be frolicking with the fairies.”
“Midsummer is usually celebrated on 24 June.”
“But today’s the solstice!” whined John. He removed the paper flower crown he’d made for himself and placed it on the mantel. “Should I even bother picking up the nibbles I ordered?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not daft enough to actually picnic in a deluge!”
“We still have to eat,” said Sherlock. “Or you do, at least. And I don’t mind it.”
John snorted. “All right.”
---
“Sorry it too so long,” began John as he trudged up the stairs, “there was an accident blocking everything, including pedestrian traffic, and then a corner was washed out, and I got a late start because they forgot the bloody—”
John sucked in a breath.
The scene was magical.
Fairy lights were everywhere. On the curtains. On the mantelpiece. Coiled in glass jars. The room was bathed in the warm glow of their collective light.
And there were chains of paper dolls, silhouettes of fairies, hanging, too.
There was a picnic blanket on the middle of the living room, and a variation on Mendelssohn’s overture was heard as Sherlock emerged from the kitchen…
…wearing a flower crown of his own.
John’s smile threatened to split his face.
“Oh, good. You’re finally back,” said Sherlock with mock nonchalance. “I’m starving.”
“Good,” said John, grinning, then peering down into the open bag, “miniature everything, quiches, pastries. This is amazing.”
“Shall we?” asked Sherlock, nodding at the blanket.
“Love to,” said John, no longer caring about the rain on the window.
Prompt: sky
Fandom: BBC Sherlock
Length: 300
Rating: Gen
Note: OOC fluff
Summary: John's sad it's raining on midsummer eve.
“Damn,” said John as he studied the grey sky through the window. “It’s supposed to rain all day and all night.”
Sherlock made a noise but did not look up from his experiment.
“Some midsummer’s eve,” continued John gloomily. “Not the weather to be frolicking with the fairies.”
“Midsummer is usually celebrated on 24 June.”
“But today’s the solstice!” whined John. He removed the paper flower crown he’d made for himself and placed it on the mantel. “Should I even bother picking up the nibbles I ordered?”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not daft enough to actually picnic in a deluge!”
“We still have to eat,” said Sherlock. “Or you do, at least. And I don’t mind it.”
John snorted. “All right.”
---
“Sorry it too so long,” began John as he trudged up the stairs, “there was an accident blocking everything, including pedestrian traffic, and then a corner was washed out, and I got a late start because they forgot the bloody—”
John sucked in a breath.
The scene was magical.
Fairy lights were everywhere. On the curtains. On the mantelpiece. Coiled in glass jars. The room was bathed in the warm glow of their collective light.
And there were chains of paper dolls, silhouettes of fairies, hanging, too.
There was a picnic blanket on the middle of the living room, and a variation on Mendelssohn’s overture was heard as Sherlock emerged from the kitchen…
…wearing a flower crown of his own.
John’s smile threatened to split his face.
“Oh, good. You’re finally back,” said Sherlock with mock nonchalance. “I’m starving.”
“Good,” said John, grinning, then peering down into the open bag, “miniature everything, quiches, pastries. This is amazing.”
“Shall we?” asked Sherlock, nodding at the blanket.
“Love to,” said John, no longer caring about the rain on the window.
