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Not the long fic, nothing to do with that (or rather, the idea is that but...) just a short 200 words (exact!) drabble so that my word count for this month, updated today after this and my part on the roundrobin for pie over at
sherlockbbc_fic is at 16500. I am mesmerized with such a big number (for me, I know there are some writers that pull that off in a week).
But on to the drabble because tonight I'm in full editor mode!
Rating: Pg-13 (just mentioning in passing)
Pairing: Lestrade/Sherlock
Word Count: 200
Summary: Five things Sherlock can do better than Lestrade, and the one thing only Lestrade can do
Title: Who Can Do Better
When he thinks about it, sitting at his own desk, trying very hard not to be submerged by the ridiculous amount of paperwork he has to go through for each of his cases, Lestrade sighs. His are the resigned sighs of those who know what Sherlock is capable of doing and have accepted his superiority in many fields.
Not every field, though.
Certainly, Sherlock can crack a case much better and quicker than any of his constables, he can stop a cab anywhere he wants (and damned if he knew how that was even possible), he can shut up Anderson like nobody’s business (once he almost made the man cry), he can take things literally to the point of harm (often Lestrade’s), and he can make everyone around him feel like a complete idiot just by opening his mouth.
But there is only one man in the world that can do the single thing Sherlock can’t (at least not without the help of a liberal amount of drugs).
Only Lestrade can make Sherlock stop thinking. He has a way, in the bedroom, to finally make his brain to stop, for a while at least, and give them all some rest.
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But on to the drabble because tonight I'm in full editor mode!
Rating: Pg-13 (just mentioning in passing)
Pairing: Lestrade/Sherlock
Word Count: 200
Summary: Five things Sherlock can do better than Lestrade, and the one thing only Lestrade can do
Title: Who Can Do Better
When he thinks about it, sitting at his own desk, trying very hard not to be submerged by the ridiculous amount of paperwork he has to go through for each of his cases, Lestrade sighs. His are the resigned sighs of those who know what Sherlock is capable of doing and have accepted his superiority in many fields.
Not every field, though.
Certainly, Sherlock can crack a case much better and quicker than any of his constables, he can stop a cab anywhere he wants (and damned if he knew how that was even possible), he can shut up Anderson like nobody’s business (once he almost made the man cry), he can take things literally to the point of harm (often Lestrade’s), and he can make everyone around him feel like a complete idiot just by opening his mouth.
But there is only one man in the world that can do the single thing Sherlock can’t (at least not without the help of a liberal amount of drugs).
Only Lestrade can make Sherlock stop thinking. He has a way, in the bedroom, to finally make his brain to stop, for a while at least, and give them all some rest.