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Post-Reichenbach Sally: What Was She Thinking?
anonymous
January 22 2012, 02:13:51 UTC
I'd like to see something from post-Reichenbach Sally's POV. Not demonising her, but giving her thought process, and maybe her (not warm and fuzzy) regrets. The more tragic, the better.
Passing Thus Alone 1/1
anonymous
January 22 2012, 02:45:01 UTC
This hit on something I'd been thinking about, so I couldn't resist a wee little mini-fill...
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It caught up with her just as late night became early morning.
When Anderson wasn't nearby to give a knowing look and encouraging nod. When the nameless others who had emerged from the Yard's woodwork weren't at her elbow, ready to speed her concerns to receptive ears. When her superiors weren't before her to praise her for her vigilance.
She blinked up at a ceiling she couldn't make out through the darkness.
It was no mystery, where the cornerstones were set: weeks, months, no years of frustration due to Sherlock Holmes. He'd celebrated the violent deaths of the victims. He'd mocked their family and friends. He'd insulted her team in general and her in particular, deducing intimate details, announcing private secrets, laughing at all-too-human foibles
( ... )
Re: Passing Thus Alone 1/1morganstuartJanuary 22 2012, 13:24:46 UTC
De-anoning to say thank you so much, my friend! I'm thrilled that this seemed convincing to you, and that you liked the writing. I really appreciate your reading and commenting with such encouraging words.
Re: Passing Thus Alone 1/1morganstuartJanuary 23 2012, 12:25:48 UTC
De-anoning to say thank you so much for this! I'm so glad this seemed believable to you, and that you felt this gave her proper depth. (That makes my day.) I really appreciate your kind words!
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It caught up with her just as late night became early morning.
When Anderson wasn't nearby to give a knowing look and encouraging nod. When the nameless others who had emerged from the Yard's woodwork weren't at her elbow, ready to speed her concerns to receptive ears. When her superiors weren't before her to praise her for her vigilance.
She blinked up at a ceiling she couldn't make out through the darkness.
It was no mystery, where the cornerstones were set: weeks, months, no years of frustration due to Sherlock Holmes. He'd celebrated the violent deaths of the victims. He'd mocked their family and friends. He'd insulted her team in general and her in particular, deducing intimate details, announcing private secrets, laughing at all-too-human foibles ( ... )
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and I'm writing it for you.
*flails* You are the best thing ever, m'dear. You know that, don't you? Thank you. I'll be watching for it! *bounces*
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