Lipstick and Manipulation - Holmes/Watson {Genderswitch femslash. PG.}
Title: Lipstick and Manipulation
Fandom: Sherlock [BBC]
Pairing: Holmes/Watson - female versions
Rating: PG
Summary: Jane Watson is getting ready for a date. Her new flatmate seems determined to make that as difficult as possible.
"What on Earth is all that for?"
Jane looked up from her bed where she sat as the placid centre of a chaotic orbit of cosmetics. She narrowed her half made-up eyes; it had been a while since Jane had bothered with any of this and she did not appreciate the interruption. "I'm getting ready for my date," she said calmly and picked up the blunt black eyeliner.
Sherlock stood in the open doorway with her hands in her coat pockets, scent of the cold winter night accompanying her. "I see," she said.
Something about the tight tone bothered Jane but she merely glanced at Sherlock and got back to work. She had an hour before she had to pick up Leanne and needed to concentrate but itt was never easy to totally ignore Sherlock. That solemn grey-eyed face and the mop of unruly brown hair cast an imposing figure and right now, Sherlock seemed to be staring at Jane. It was a little disturbing. "Did you want something or are you just here to be annoying?"
"I have a new lead on our case," Sherlock said. Before Jane could say a word Sherlock crossed the room in two long strides and picked a lipstick from the pile. "Peach. Not quite your colour. You don't intend to sleep with her tonight."
"What? That is none of your business!"
"It would be if you intended to bring her here," said Sherlock. She tossed the silver tube of lipstick from one hand to the other, smile pasted on haphazardly. "A relationship based on deception is a funny thing, isn't it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jane said. Her eyeliner smudged and she gritted her teeth. "I'm trying to get ready, what do you want?"
"This is your third date with her," Sherlock said. Her voice took on that monotonous buzz it held whenever she felt that her words were particularly self-evident, lounging somewhere between smug and bored. "Usually the hue of your makeup would be unimportant but I remember that the last time you brought someone back with prior intent, your lips were a startling shade of crimson. Therefore you do not intend to sleep with Leanne and have some other interest in seeing her again."
Though Jane had been considering a similar point very recently, albeit in less insane terms, she couldn't let that one slide. "Leanne's a nice girl."
"Perhaps, but you aren't the kind to seek out an easy life. I can't imagine a nice girl is what you're looking for," she said. "Regardless, I find the social convention of disguising yourself for a date in an inch of makeup to be strange and deceptive. What is the point of seeking out companionship of a romantic or sexual nature when you hide everything you are?"
Jane put down the eyeliner and stared. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go but that wasn't exactly a new pattern where Sherlock was involved. "A bit of lipstick and some eyeliner doesn't equal a mask."
"Near enough."
"You wear makeup," Jane said. Sherlock had a rather impressive collection that was quite often scattered across most of the flat. Just yesterday Jane had found half a tube of pink lipstick in the sugar bowl.
"When necessary for a case," she said. "Jane, if you are so set on disguising yourself, at least do it accurately."
Sherlock scooped up a handful of assorted eyeshadows and placed them messily beside Jane, kneeling on the mattress in the now unoccupied space. The room was large and Jane's bed was far from small but everything seemed to shrink when the tall, lithe woman made herself at home on the grey and purple striped quilt. Jane stared, all but a quiet lingering thought of Leanne pushed from her mind, as Sherlock carefully selected a golden brown lipstick from the small mound of tubes and twisted it out of its case.
It wasn't a colour Jane had considered. She was fairly sure it was one of Harry's, one of the many things Jane had scattered about the place that her sister had discarded on her infrequent visits. It seemed too garish, too odd, and Jane wasn't sure she had ever tried it on. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
Apparently Sherlock wasn't concerned with such small details as what Jane wanted though, because after a second of consideration they were much closer together than they had been. Jane would have leaned back but Sherlock held her forearm with surprising gentleness. "Try this one," Sherlock said and pressed it against Jane's open lips.
"Um," Jane said as Sherlock swiped the lipstick carefully over her lips.
Sherlock paused. "If you speak, I'll smudge it. Shut up." Jane decided to go with it, mostly because trying to stop Sherlock from getting her own way was more trouble than it was worth and Jane didn't fancy dealing with a petulant, sulking sociopath while she was attempting to get ready for a date. Sherlock worked quietly, slowly, with all her usual attention to detail focused tightly on Jane's mouth. From here Jane could see the individual strands of the messy hair, the sweep of lashes around the cold eyes, every fleck of blue within them. The scent of the outside air was less refreshing this close, clogged up with London's dust, but Jane breathed deeply anyway.
Once Jane's lips were fully coated, Sherlock leaned back enough to meet Jane's wide gaze. Silence lingered and Jane had the insane thought that Sherlock was actually going to kiss her which would be so wrong, except that it wouldn't, and did the room suddenly just get hotter?
"I thought so," Sherlock said, getting to her feet. She was smiling again. "Dilated pupils, slight raise in body temperature. You're far too easy to read, Jane."
"Wait. Wait! I'm not - I'm not turned on, I'm confused, don't -" Jane said, stuttering and tripping over her words as she climbed through the pile of makeup and to her feet.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and tossed Jane her mobile. "Call Leanne. I need you on this case with me tonight. There are lives at stake."
"No there aren't," Jane said.
"Well, no there aren't," Sherlock agreed. She shrugged. "My reputation is at stake which is easily as important. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes and clean your face, you look ridiculous."
Jane picked up a face wipe and her mirror from the bed once her seriously bizarre flatmate had departed. Sherlock was right, she looked a mess. Her eyeliner was smudged and the golden lipstick made her look like a baby drag queen. She rubbed it off with the back of her hand and started on the failed attempt at eye makeup, mentally cursing Sherlock for dismantling her night so easily and cursing herself for letting it happen. When Jane had returned from the war, she had expected a quiet and boring life, the only bump in the road being the nasty case of PTSD.
And then she had met Sherlock and things had become as interesting as they were confusing.
Jane picked up the phone. "Hello, Leanne? I'm afraid something's come up."
Fandom: Sherlock [BBC]
Pairing: Holmes/Watson - female versions
Rating: PG
Summary: Jane Watson is getting ready for a date. Her new flatmate seems determined to make that as difficult as possible.
"What on Earth is all that for?"
Jane looked up from her bed where she sat as the placid centre of a chaotic orbit of cosmetics. She narrowed her half made-up eyes; it had been a while since Jane had bothered with any of this and she did not appreciate the interruption. "I'm getting ready for my date," she said calmly and picked up the blunt black eyeliner.
Sherlock stood in the open doorway with her hands in her coat pockets, scent of the cold winter night accompanying her. "I see," she said.
Something about the tight tone bothered Jane but she merely glanced at Sherlock and got back to work. She had an hour before she had to pick up Leanne and needed to concentrate but itt was never easy to totally ignore Sherlock. That solemn grey-eyed face and the mop of unruly brown hair cast an imposing figure and right now, Sherlock seemed to be staring at Jane. It was a little disturbing. "Did you want something or are you just here to be annoying?"
"I have a new lead on our case," Sherlock said. Before Jane could say a word Sherlock crossed the room in two long strides and picked a lipstick from the pile. "Peach. Not quite your colour. You don't intend to sleep with her tonight."
"What? That is none of your business!"
"It would be if you intended to bring her here," said Sherlock. She tossed the silver tube of lipstick from one hand to the other, smile pasted on haphazardly. "A relationship based on deception is a funny thing, isn't it?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Jane said. Her eyeliner smudged and she gritted her teeth. "I'm trying to get ready, what do you want?"
"This is your third date with her," Sherlock said. Her voice took on that monotonous buzz it held whenever she felt that her words were particularly self-evident, lounging somewhere between smug and bored. "Usually the hue of your makeup would be unimportant but I remember that the last time you brought someone back with prior intent, your lips were a startling shade of crimson. Therefore you do not intend to sleep with Leanne and have some other interest in seeing her again."
Though Jane had been considering a similar point very recently, albeit in less insane terms, she couldn't let that one slide. "Leanne's a nice girl."
"Perhaps, but you aren't the kind to seek out an easy life. I can't imagine a nice girl is what you're looking for," she said. "Regardless, I find the social convention of disguising yourself for a date in an inch of makeup to be strange and deceptive. What is the point of seeking out companionship of a romantic or sexual nature when you hide everything you are?"
Jane put down the eyeliner and stared. This wasn't how the night was supposed to go but that wasn't exactly a new pattern where Sherlock was involved. "A bit of lipstick and some eyeliner doesn't equal a mask."
"Near enough."
"You wear makeup," Jane said. Sherlock had a rather impressive collection that was quite often scattered across most of the flat. Just yesterday Jane had found half a tube of pink lipstick in the sugar bowl.
"When necessary for a case," she said. "Jane, if you are so set on disguising yourself, at least do it accurately."
Sherlock scooped up a handful of assorted eyeshadows and placed them messily beside Jane, kneeling on the mattress in the now unoccupied space. The room was large and Jane's bed was far from small but everything seemed to shrink when the tall, lithe woman made herself at home on the grey and purple striped quilt. Jane stared, all but a quiet lingering thought of Leanne pushed from her mind, as Sherlock carefully selected a golden brown lipstick from the small mound of tubes and twisted it out of its case.
It wasn't a colour Jane had considered. She was fairly sure it was one of Harry's, one of the many things Jane had scattered about the place that her sister had discarded on her infrequent visits. It seemed too garish, too odd, and Jane wasn't sure she had ever tried it on. She wasn't sure she wanted to.
Apparently Sherlock wasn't concerned with such small details as what Jane wanted though, because after a second of consideration they were much closer together than they had been. Jane would have leaned back but Sherlock held her forearm with surprising gentleness. "Try this one," Sherlock said and pressed it against Jane's open lips.
"Um," Jane said as Sherlock swiped the lipstick carefully over her lips.
Sherlock paused. "If you speak, I'll smudge it. Shut up." Jane decided to go with it, mostly because trying to stop Sherlock from getting her own way was more trouble than it was worth and Jane didn't fancy dealing with a petulant, sulking sociopath while she was attempting to get ready for a date. Sherlock worked quietly, slowly, with all her usual attention to detail focused tightly on Jane's mouth. From here Jane could see the individual strands of the messy hair, the sweep of lashes around the cold eyes, every fleck of blue within them. The scent of the outside air was less refreshing this close, clogged up with London's dust, but Jane breathed deeply anyway.
Once Jane's lips were fully coated, Sherlock leaned back enough to meet Jane's wide gaze. Silence lingered and Jane had the insane thought that Sherlock was actually going to kiss her which would be so wrong, except that it wouldn't, and did the room suddenly just get hotter?
"I thought so," Sherlock said, getting to her feet. She was smiling again. "Dilated pupils, slight raise in body temperature. You're far too easy to read, Jane."
"Wait. Wait! I'm not - I'm not turned on, I'm confused, don't -" Jane said, stuttering and tripping over her words as she climbed through the pile of makeup and to her feet.
Sherlock raised an eyebrow and tossed Jane her mobile. "Call Leanne. I need you on this case with me tonight. There are lives at stake."
"No there aren't," Jane said.
"Well, no there aren't," Sherlock agreed. She shrugged. "My reputation is at stake which is easily as important. I'll meet you downstairs in ten minutes and clean your face, you look ridiculous."
Jane picked up a face wipe and her mirror from the bed once her seriously bizarre flatmate had departed. Sherlock was right, she looked a mess. Her eyeliner was smudged and the golden lipstick made her look like a baby drag queen. She rubbed it off with the back of her hand and started on the failed attempt at eye makeup, mentally cursing Sherlock for dismantling her night so easily and cursing herself for letting it happen. When Jane had returned from the war, she had expected a quiet and boring life, the only bump in the road being the nasty case of PTSD.
And then she had met Sherlock and things had become as interesting as they were confusing.
Jane picked up the phone. "Hello, Leanne? I'm afraid something's come up."