Sherlock Triple Drabble: 'Stakeout Interrupted' (sh/mh - G)
300 words for the 'Insides' prompt
~ Stakeout Interrupted ~
The moon’s barely a sliver, the night moderately cold, but her insides turn to ice in the blackness as she’s jerked back against a large and very solid body, her instinctive yelp stifled by a firm hand over her mouth. She’s just about to begin squealing and struggling maniacally when an angry, very familiar voice hisses in her ear, “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
Her relief is immediate, and evident, her wrath instantaneous. As he releases her she whips around to confront him, but he grips her shoulders hard and actually gives her a shake. Livid, she digs the heel of her boot into his expensively shod toes. An inelegant expletive escapes him and his fingers tighten painfully. “Let go! ” she spits in a furious whisper. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
“I told you, the risks--”
“I know the risks, but it’s Mary’s friend! I have to help!”
“You don’t! Mary can handle her own affairs.”
“She asked me.”
His eyes narrow. “I’ll speak to her later. As for you…”
“As for me what?” she snaps.
He seems to be gritting his teeth, and then suddenly he’s roughly pulling her close and kissing her, for a long, long instant. She’s gasping in surprise as he releases her, and she hears him mutter fiercely, “Either that, or a slipper to your bare backside. Possibly both.”
She stiffens and bites back a shocked, outraged, (delighted) chuckle. “Oh, really?”
“Indeed. But now, since we’re already here, tell me what you’ve observed so far, Miss Hooper.”
“You… you mean you’re staying?”
“Apparently.”
She can’t help it. She pulls him down for another kiss, her smile beneath his lips proving infectious, then firmly grasps the sleeve of his Belstaff and launches into a detailed recital of the pertinent facts.
~.~
~ Stakeout Interrupted ~
The moon’s barely a sliver, the night moderately cold, but her insides turn to ice in the blackness as she’s jerked back against a large and very solid body, her instinctive yelp stifled by a firm hand over her mouth. She’s just about to begin squealing and struggling maniacally when an angry, very familiar voice hisses in her ear, “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
Her relief is immediate, and evident, her wrath instantaneous. As he releases her she whips around to confront him, but he grips her shoulders hard and actually gives her a shake. Livid, she digs the heel of her boot into his expensively shod toes. An inelegant expletive escapes him and his fingers tighten painfully. “Let go! ” she spits in a furious whisper. “What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
“I told you, the risks--”
“I know the risks, but it’s Mary’s friend! I have to help!”
“You don’t! Mary can handle her own affairs.”
“She asked me.”
His eyes narrow. “I’ll speak to her later. As for you…”
“As for me what?” she snaps.
He seems to be gritting his teeth, and then suddenly he’s roughly pulling her close and kissing her, for a long, long instant. She’s gasping in surprise as he releases her, and she hears him mutter fiercely, “Either that, or a slipper to your bare backside. Possibly both.”
She stiffens and bites back a shocked, outraged, (delighted) chuckle. “Oh, really?”
“Indeed. But now, since we’re already here, tell me what you’ve observed so far, Miss Hooper.”
“You… you mean you’re staying?”
“Apparently.”
She can’t help it. She pulls him down for another kiss, her smile beneath his lips proving infectious, then firmly grasps the sleeve of his Belstaff and launches into a detailed recital of the pertinent facts.
~.~