Nobody is smart but Daryl Hockney (the_automaton) wrote in musingslogs, @ 2011-01-07 02:11:00 |
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Entry tags: | moriarty, sherlock holmes |
Who: Adam and Daryl
What: A simple collection goes awry
Where: Bathos 204 then out in Redmond
When: Friday at about 6:30 am
Warnings: Violence, mild gore, panic, and very inappropriate hilarity
With a small murmur, Daryl shifted, burying her face in her pillow. She reached up, pulling it close, and nuzzled against it. She could feel her nightgown brushing over her legs, a familiar comfort, as she rolled to the side, laying on her stomach and wiggling into the bed. Just as she moved a leg, however, she felt an unusual prodding sensation. Pausing, she shifted, where she felt it again. With a sleepy grumble, she pressed a hand against her bed, lifting herself up to turn and see through tired eyes what exactly was bothering her. As she opened her eyes, she made a very jarring realization.
She wasn't in her bed. And that wasn't her pillow.
Suppressing a gasp, she rolled to the side, looking down at Mr. Morgenstern's hips. There was a very obvious protrusion that had been the culprit. Covering her mouth with one hand, she looked down at his sleeping face, resisting the urge to shake him awake and yell at him for daring to prod her with his nocturnal erection. However, she managed to stay silent. Glancing down at Toby, who had fallen asleep on the floor after being kicked off the couch the night before, remained blissfully unaware of her waking. Her gaze slid between them, and finally to Jane's bedroom door. She'd left it open just a crack, and it was still open that small bit. She hadn't come home.
Normally, this would have been mildly disturbing. But Daryl was soon becoming desensitized to this "zombie Apocalypse" nonsense, and already she simply saw it as a puzzle. Something to decode. She very carefully climbed off the couch, stepping over Toby and moving silently to her bedroom. She didn't dare to turn on a light, tiptoeing in bare feet over the carpet until she was sure she had made it safely. She made quick work of getting dressed, throwing on a long-sleeved shirt and sturdy jeans with a pair of sneakers for swift and sure travel. As she tied her hair up in a ponytail, she heard claws pricking the carpet outside her door - Toby. Holding her breath, she threw on a jacket and grabbed her messenger bag - already containing a collection kit and her knife - before making her way out of her room.
Toby looked up at her, mismatched eyes trained on her suspiciously. She patted his head, making a soothing sound as she passed him by. He tried to follow, but she held out a hand, a signal to stay. With one last glance to Mr. Morgenstern - whose sleeping expression made her stomach ache in the strangest way - she slipped out the door and left, hoping that the early morning hours of the second day would be calmer than those past.