Judging By the State of Her Knees
a/n: My first fic I decided to post on LJ. Short, crackfic, oneshot.
Title: Judging By the State of Her Knees
Rating: PG (innuendos?)
Characters: Anderson, Donovan
Warnings: none
Word Count: 623
Summary: Sherlock's deductions hit a little too close to home for Anderson and Donovan. But he never did bother to find out the actual truth...
“We sure dodged a bullet there, didn’t we?”
“Stupid Sherlock Holmes getting into business he has no part of. He’s a show-off, that’s what he is.”
“Can you imagine if he found out the whole story, though?”
“I shudder to think of the consequences, not only for me, but for you! Think of your family!”
Donovan and Anderson were talking in hushed voices whilst standing next to a lonely stream underneath a small bridge. It was doubtful anyone would find them there. Even still, they had to be careful.
Surreptitious meetings were starting to become the norm now. Ever since Sherlock Holmes started taking an interest in deducing the details of people’s personal lives, it became dangerous to be seen anywhere together.
“I care about you too much. We can’t go on like this. Maybe we should stop,” Anderson suggested.
“How can we stop now that we’re right in the thick of it? We can’t just stop. It doesn’t work like that.”
“But… every time we do this, there’s a bigger chance of being caught. Sherlock almost found out-”
“Listen! I don’t care about Sherlock. Not one bit. What’s he going to do about it, anyway? He’s not going to even care because it’s not difficult to figure out. His pride’ll get in the way. It always does,” Donovan reassured him.
“But he even noticed the deodorant! That was too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively!” Anderson complained.
“He thought it was yours, stupid,” Donovan replied, smacking him upside the head. “Don’t you understand what he was implying? Not the truth, that’s for sure. But we need to do a better job of covering up where we’ve been, nonetheless.”
“Oh. Ohhhhh. See, I thought… that he was… all right, that makes a bit more sense, I suppose,” Anderson said.
“Oh, and by the way? You’re lowering the IQ of the whole world right now, not just the whole street. That was one thing Sherlock was right about. You jump to the wrong conclusions.”
“Well, it’s better than not jumping to any conclusions! …wait. No. That wasn’t right…”
“Shut up!” Donovan interrupted. “I think you’re forgetting something. We still have that issue with the floors.”
“Yeah, well you scrubbed them well enough. Even he could tell that. I don’t think we’ll need any more cleaning in that house anymore!” Anderson said, laughing.
“That’s not what he meant, yet again…” Donovan muttered. It was now clear that everything anyone said went straight over Anderson’s head, no matter what. “What I was meaning to say was that you will be cleaning the next set of floors. Unless we decide to keep everything outside.”
“Why don’t we just do it in the river? It would save us a lot of trouble.”
“That’s… disgusting. No. Not going to happen.”
“Like cleaning up bodily fluids off the floor isn’t disgusting.”
“Well, we deal with things like that on a regular basis! It’s part of our job!”
“That is true,” Anderson admitted. “But still. I think it would be fitting to change our scenery once in a while.”
“All right then. If you insist. Get your body down to the river then. And did you bring protection?” Donovan asked.
“Of course. Latex. Hope you don’t mind,” Anderson said, brandishing a pair of latex gloves. “We couldn’t possibly leave our prints on anything. I’ll bring the body along in a bit.”
“Good. Maybe we can get away with even more murder before that freak is on the case.”
The two walked away in separate directions to carry out their plan. No one knew where they would strike next. They were, after all, serial killers, and not secret lovers. That was Sherlock’s one mistake.
Title: Judging By the State of Her Knees
Rating: PG (innuendos?)
Characters: Anderson, Donovan
Warnings: none
Word Count: 623
Summary: Sherlock's deductions hit a little too close to home for Anderson and Donovan. But he never did bother to find out the actual truth...
“We sure dodged a bullet there, didn’t we?”
“Stupid Sherlock Holmes getting into business he has no part of. He’s a show-off, that’s what he is.”
“Can you imagine if he found out the whole story, though?”
“I shudder to think of the consequences, not only for me, but for you! Think of your family!”
Donovan and Anderson were talking in hushed voices whilst standing next to a lonely stream underneath a small bridge. It was doubtful anyone would find them there. Even still, they had to be careful.
Surreptitious meetings were starting to become the norm now. Ever since Sherlock Holmes started taking an interest in deducing the details of people’s personal lives, it became dangerous to be seen anywhere together.
“I care about you too much. We can’t go on like this. Maybe we should stop,” Anderson suggested.
“How can we stop now that we’re right in the thick of it? We can’t just stop. It doesn’t work like that.”
“But… every time we do this, there’s a bigger chance of being caught. Sherlock almost found out-”
“Listen! I don’t care about Sherlock. Not one bit. What’s he going to do about it, anyway? He’s not going to even care because it’s not difficult to figure out. His pride’ll get in the way. It always does,” Donovan reassured him.
“But he even noticed the deodorant! That was too close for comfort, both literally and figuratively!” Anderson complained.
“He thought it was yours, stupid,” Donovan replied, smacking him upside the head. “Don’t you understand what he was implying? Not the truth, that’s for sure. But we need to do a better job of covering up where we’ve been, nonetheless.”
“Oh. Ohhhhh. See, I thought… that he was… all right, that makes a bit more sense, I suppose,” Anderson said.
“Oh, and by the way? You’re lowering the IQ of the whole world right now, not just the whole street. That was one thing Sherlock was right about. You jump to the wrong conclusions.”
“Well, it’s better than not jumping to any conclusions! …wait. No. That wasn’t right…”
“Shut up!” Donovan interrupted. “I think you’re forgetting something. We still have that issue with the floors.”
“Yeah, well you scrubbed them well enough. Even he could tell that. I don’t think we’ll need any more cleaning in that house anymore!” Anderson said, laughing.
“That’s not what he meant, yet again…” Donovan muttered. It was now clear that everything anyone said went straight over Anderson’s head, no matter what. “What I was meaning to say was that you will be cleaning the next set of floors. Unless we decide to keep everything outside.”
“Why don’t we just do it in the river? It would save us a lot of trouble.”
“That’s… disgusting. No. Not going to happen.”
“Like cleaning up bodily fluids off the floor isn’t disgusting.”
“Well, we deal with things like that on a regular basis! It’s part of our job!”
“That is true,” Anderson admitted. “But still. I think it would be fitting to change our scenery once in a while.”
“All right then. If you insist. Get your body down to the river then. And did you bring protection?” Donovan asked.
“Of course. Latex. Hope you don’t mind,” Anderson said, brandishing a pair of latex gloves. “We couldn’t possibly leave our prints on anything. I’ll bring the body along in a bit.”
“Good. Maybe we can get away with even more murder before that freak is on the case.”
The two walked away in separate directions to carry out their plan. No one knew where they would strike next. They were, after all, serial killers, and not secret lovers. That was Sherlock’s one mistake.