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sherlockian_synThis drabble was written for Day 27 of the ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.
Treasure Island. A character has lost something they value.
“Jane, have you seen my copy of Treasure Island?”
Jane continued typing up her new blog entry, wanting to finish her thought before stopping.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, looking up to see Shirley pulling all of the cushions off of the sofa, a look of mild panic on her face.
“What’s missing?”
Shirley huffed. “My copy of Treasure Island. It’s not in my room. I need it.”
“Why do you need it? Never pegged you for a Robert Louis Stevenson fan.”
“It’s...it’s my comfort novel. When I’m stuck on a problem, it helps me decompress and start again from the beginning.”
Jane stood up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Shirley. “Do you remember when you last had it?”
Shirley sighed. “I know it was here in the flat. I pace around when I’m reading it usually and sometimes I misplace it if I have an epiphany or whatnot.”
“Wait, I think...last week, you burst into my room because you’d remembered that Lestrade interviewed Nancy Drew after the Highcastle murder. And you had a book in your hand. Was that it?”
Shirley’s eyes went wide and her face instantly brightened. “Yes! That’s the last time I had it. So maybe it’s in your room?”
They went up the stairs to Jane’s room and Shirley flung the door open eagerly. She walked in and gave the room a quick once-over.
“Do you remember seeing it in here?” Shirley asked.
Jane shrugged. “Not since then, no. But I do remember that you didn’t have it in your hand when you tackled me onto the bed.”
Shirley’s cheeks tinged a slight pink, and she avoided looking at Jane.
“Oh. Right.”
Jane smiled mischievously. “So, since I haven’t seen it since then, we might want to try looking in the less obvious places.”
The two of them searched the room together, looking behind the vanity, under the bed, wedged between the laundry basket and the wall.
“Aha!” Shirley finally exclaimed. She held up the worn paperback to show Jane, then stood back up. “Under the wardrobe. Probably just dropped it or something.”
“Crisis averted.” Jane sat down on the edge of her bed. “Will you read it to me?”
Shirley blinked. “What?”
“Come on. I want you to read me a story about buccaneers and buried treasure.”
Shirley looked down at the battered book in her hands, and back up at Jane. “You’re not playing? You actually want me to read to you?”
Jane smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Shirley shuffled over to the bed, climbed on top, and scrambled for the pillows. “No one’s ever wanted me to read to them before.”
Jane crawled down the length of the bed until she was lying next to Shirley. “First time for everything.” She punctuated her thought by kissing Shirley on the cheek.
“I’ve never told anyone this before but...when I was young, I read this book in secret because Mummy thought it was unbecoming of a lady to read an adventure story. And for years after that, I pictured myself growing up to be a pirate queen.”
Shirley stared into space, nostalgia making her oddly sentimental. But she was with Jane, and the rest of the world was tucked away outside, so she could feel vulnerable and human for a minute or two.
“You would make a lovely pirate queen,” Jane whispered.
“Thank you, my dear. Now, shall I begin?”
Jane nodded.
“All right.” Shirley flipped to the first page and began to read.
Squire Trelawnay, Dr Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island...
watsons_woes July Writing Prompts challenge.Treasure Island. A character has lost something they value.
“Jane, have you seen my copy of Treasure Island?”
Jane continued typing up her new blog entry, wanting to finish her thought before stopping.
“Sorry, what?” she asked, looking up to see Shirley pulling all of the cushions off of the sofa, a look of mild panic on her face.
“What’s missing?”
Shirley huffed. “My copy of Treasure Island. It’s not in my room. I need it.”
“Why do you need it? Never pegged you for a Robert Louis Stevenson fan.”
“It’s...it’s my comfort novel. When I’m stuck on a problem, it helps me decompress and start again from the beginning.”
Jane stood up from her chair and wrapped her arms around Shirley. “Do you remember when you last had it?”
Shirley sighed. “I know it was here in the flat. I pace around when I’m reading it usually and sometimes I misplace it if I have an epiphany or whatnot.”
“Wait, I think...last week, you burst into my room because you’d remembered that Lestrade interviewed Nancy Drew after the Highcastle murder. And you had a book in your hand. Was that it?”
Shirley’s eyes went wide and her face instantly brightened. “Yes! That’s the last time I had it. So maybe it’s in your room?”
They went up the stairs to Jane’s room and Shirley flung the door open eagerly. She walked in and gave the room a quick once-over.
“Do you remember seeing it in here?” Shirley asked.
Jane shrugged. “Not since then, no. But I do remember that you didn’t have it in your hand when you tackled me onto the bed.”
Shirley’s cheeks tinged a slight pink, and she avoided looking at Jane.
“Oh. Right.”
Jane smiled mischievously. “So, since I haven’t seen it since then, we might want to try looking in the less obvious places.”
The two of them searched the room together, looking behind the vanity, under the bed, wedged between the laundry basket and the wall.
“Aha!” Shirley finally exclaimed. She held up the worn paperback to show Jane, then stood back up. “Under the wardrobe. Probably just dropped it or something.”
“Crisis averted.” Jane sat down on the edge of her bed. “Will you read it to me?”
Shirley blinked. “What?”
“Come on. I want you to read me a story about buccaneers and buried treasure.”
Shirley looked down at the battered book in her hands, and back up at Jane. “You’re not playing? You actually want me to read to you?”
Jane smiled and cocked her head to the side. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Shirley shuffled over to the bed, climbed on top, and scrambled for the pillows. “No one’s ever wanted me to read to them before.”
Jane crawled down the length of the bed until she was lying next to Shirley. “First time for everything.” She punctuated her thought by kissing Shirley on the cheek.
“I’ve never told anyone this before but...when I was young, I read this book in secret because Mummy thought it was unbecoming of a lady to read an adventure story. And for years after that, I pictured myself growing up to be a pirate queen.”
Shirley stared into space, nostalgia making her oddly sentimental. But she was with Jane, and the rest of the world was tucked away outside, so she could feel vulnerable and human for a minute or two.
“You would make a lovely pirate queen,” Jane whispered.
“Thank you, my dear. Now, shall I begin?”
Jane nodded.
“All right.” Shirley flipped to the first page and began to read.
Squire Trelawnay, Dr Livesey, and the rest of these gentlemen having asked me to write down the whole particulars about Treasure Island...
