A rich man makes an announcement guaranteed to anger a large percentage of the population, including many of his customers. He predicts backlash, including a “political hit job.”
Soon thereafter, a story comes out the rich man sexually harassed an employee. Supporters cry “hit job!” The rich man even has a cheeky nickname for the scandal all lined up!
Our heroes do a little investigation and find out that the reporter of the sexual harassment story contacted the rich man for comment just hours before the big announcement! ACT ONE OUT!
I mean, that’s an ELEMENTARY.
Except in ELEMENTARY the harassed employee and/or the reporter would already be dead, killed by their self-driving car in the teaser. But OTHER than that…
“Mm hmm,” she replied and snuggled in closer to him. She was surprised how comfortable this felt, how natural it was. “You?” she asked him.
“Very much so,” came his whispered answer. His hand came out from beneath the covers and came to rest gently on the back of her head. His bare legs shifted underneath to allow her to get closer.
She smiled into his chest as warmth enveloped her.
~ from Stirring the Ashes
Thank you to @possibility221 for rec’ing my old fic for today’s prompt. I couldn’t come up with anything so I did a quick drawing.
Recommended fanfic: Stirring the Ashes, by nairobiwonders: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2180367/chapters/4771959
Also recommended, the previous work, Embers, provides some healing for the traumatic ending to season2: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2028054/chapters/4399734
He examined. Yes, it was Watson’s handwriting but the message was rather odd. He pulled the hot pink post-it note off his monitor and carried it down to the kitchen.
“I know our relationship has changed, but this struck me a bit out of character. It was left on my monitor…” He flapped the ‘Love you sweetie’ sticky note before her.
Joan’s eyes widened. “Oh no! That is not for you.”
Feeling slightly jealous, Sherlock waited, hoping for an explanation.
“Ugh, this means Arthur has a sticky note on his lunch that says, “Mutilated femur found at park.”
Joan was standing at the kitchen counter when Sherlock came up close behind her and spoke almost in her ear.
“I’m going to put my arms around you Watson, with your permission.” Permission of course was not necessary. The stating of intentions was more of a playful vestigial habit, a remnant from years past when their relationship changed and they found ways to maneuver over and around boundaries.
Joan smiled and leaned back into him as his arms encircled her waist.
He placed a tiny kiss at her neck. “The boys at the precinct send their regards.”
She placed her hand over his and enjoyed the moment before she spoke, “I wonder why no one has ever asked us … ”
“Asks us about what?” he murmured against the curve of her cheek.
Joan turned in his arms to face him and he reluctantly pulled away from the soft sweetness of her. His bewildered look prompted her to place a gentle kiss on his furrowed brow. She lay her head beneath his chin and snuggled in. “About this ….“
"Ahhh… simple really.” He held on to her and swayed slightly as he continued, “Firstly, we are the soul of discretion. No PDAs. No haptic hints. Secondly, and most importantly the thought that you would ever have anything to do me, outside of a professional relationship, is ludicrous. No one would believe it even if I told them. You are intelligent, beautiful, gracious, kind and beloved by all. While I… I am an odd-looking ass that nobody likes. You, to use the vernacular, are way out of my league.”
“Oh come on…” she looked up at him and chided, “I don’t think you’re odd looking." A smile spread on her face as he winced. "I sometimes wonder if it’s not just some sort of racism or prejudice or something?” Her tone grew serious and she once more hid her face against him.
“You mean because I’m British?” His attempt at humor was met with silence and he realized this was upsetting her. “I would not be at all adverse to making our relationship public … the first person who dares make a comment, dies.”
“Sherlock!” She chastised him and squeezed him tight. “Thank you but, no. We don’t need anyone’s validation…. I have everything I need right here.”
He bent his head and whispered in her ear. She nodded. Sherlock took her hand and they walked into his bedroom.
