dani_meows (dani_meows) wrote in bipolardanicats, @ 2011-10-01 21:04:00 |
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Current mood: | artistic |
No Good, Very Bad, Day
Title:No Good, Very Bad, Day
Fandom:Sherlock BBC
Pairing:Sherlock/John
Rating:PG
Word Count:300
Notes: Sorry Sherlock but I've had an awful day and John's suffered to much recently so it's your turn! Written for prompt 67.) Tattoo.
Today had been abysmal. Despite actually sleeping for once, he hadn't slept well, and when the alarm had gone off it causing his heart to beat a tattoo in his ribs.
He'd barely caught his ride to the crime scene he'd been called to investigate.
After spending two minutes looking around the scene, he'd solved the crime and it had been disgustingly easy.
However, when he'd reached into his pocket for his phone to call his ride, so that he could go back to the hotel and make arrangements to go home, his faithful phone was not where it belonged.
So he'd walked to the hotel since the people at the crime scene that he'd insulted were hardly going to let him use theirs, and it was miserably hot and humid.
The last thing he ever wanted to do was go back to Florida, even if Sarasota, did have a number of things that would be interesting to see if a certain doctor was with him.
So he got back to the hotel, found his trusty phone in the pocket of yesterday's pants, and tried to find a way home.
No flights out that he could catch for at least three more days.
He wanted to cry. He wanted to be home. Where Mrs. Hudson made food and tea, which she always provided despite her protests, that she was not their housekeeper, where John was there to be calm and soothing, to provide him with laughter and a sense of belonging.
Or if he couldn't be at home, he wanted John to be here. There was a knock on the door, once Sherlock heard the voice on the other end he threw open the door.
It was John. Sherlock pressed him against the door, once it was shut, and snogged him.