lifted from The british teapot… used without permission… link to original above
John Watson had come into the library for a quiet afternoon of study. Third year of schooling, nearly done, he knew exactly how he liked to study— in a quiet room with no distractions, his nose in the book and away from all of his friends and teammates. He’s a sporty one, you know.
He even had his own spot, right near a window by the back closet, where the smell of old books lingered and people were rarely ever there. This time, however, John spotted a young man sitting at his table. Polite as ever, he only smiled and took seat beside him.
Unlike John, this young man wasnt polite at all. Sherlock Holmes had almost dismissed John until the male sat at his side. He immediately set about looking him over— short hair, so he must play sports. A hooded shirt, so he enjoys his comfort and probably has nothing to do for quite a while. A nice stack of books, so he’s in several classes and has a lot to study for— but no notebook and no pen, so he isn’t taking notes. He’s only reading. Sherlock smirks to himself and scoots his chair further away from John, garnering no attention.
So he scoots further once more. He’ll need the leg room.
“Sorry, am I in your way?” John asks as he lifts his head to the younger male across from him.
“Not at all.”
Sherlock waits until John returns his gaze to the text in his book — it’s time to strike.
In one swift move he swings his legs up onto the table and sets the heels of his feet on John’s books. “Sorry, am I in your way?” he taunts.
John merely grunts, but decides to ignore the invasive feet in his way. The long, crossed legs of Sherlock Holmes wouldn’t distract him. “Not at all,” John retorts as he reads whatever text he can. When he’s run out of words to read, he rests his cheek on his hand and closes his eyes.
Sherlock pauses, curious as to why his legs weren’t shoved away or why John hadn’t yet moved. His antics were tolerated, and to him, it was a surprise.
“You could have pushed my feet, you know.”
Five minutes pass and neither boy had made a move. Sherlock reaches across the table, snatches one of John’s books and opens it at the half-way mark, placing it on his face. He props it high enough so that he can peek down at John if he should decide to. He folds his hands in his lap and waits. They both wait. They’re waiting for the other to make a move and break this silent contest they have going on.
A silent friendship forms. The two sit like this for hours, at times glancing to one another and catching a look or a smile from the young man sitting opposite, but it’s nice. It’s warm and comforting and unlike any bond they’d ever formed. They have a connection, all at once, and it’s suddenly become a lingering joy.
The day ends with an exchange of names and an unspoken promise. Every Saturday at noon, for the rest of the school year, John Watson and Sherlock Holmes would meet at the back of the library to study.
And more often than not, it would end with a book on Sherlock’s head and feet on John’s book. One of these days, John will have enough of it and tip the curly-haired boy out of his chair, but that time has yet to come.
a little bit of dick always cheers me up. what?
awesome thing is, the two of them are ALWAYS like this.
I need to go to another spncon. Like yesterday.
I will spare you from my ridiculous David Tennant / Tenth Doctor obsession to bring you this factoid:
I love the kids in Black Mountain Symphony so much it’s scary. I don’t know why, but they always seem to give me what I need before I even know I need it.
There’s a lot of ugly going on right now… and I don’t know how to stop it. There’s no one else I can communicate my concerns to and it’s wearing on me. A lot. Too much. I didn’t realize that I was that so out of sorts until a really stupid Facebook comment brought tears to my eyes. I totally had no clue that I needed a kind word to set my world right…
I know… for some one who is so hyper-aware of her moods, I can be awfully daft sometimes.
Even though it’s going to be nearly impossible to fit this into my schedule, I’m headed to Woodstock on Saturday to get my fix.
A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, you know?
me at stonehenge :: salisbury plain, uk :: september 4, 2008
For whatever reason, I seem to go to London when my life is in some sort of turmoil. When I went in high school, it was after my mother died. When I went in 2002, it my first birthday without my dad and the 10th without my mother. This year, well, there’s some behind-the-scenes stuff going on.
I’ve tried to stay away from the real world all week - but it hasn’t been easy because I’m still in school, doing an online class. I’ve spent this week lost in London, being a happy tourist and forgetting I’m supposed to be worrying about things at home. It’s been healing. I don’t know why, but London “fixes” me when I’m broken. It’s probably got something to do with the fact that I’m far away and completely lost in what I’m doing. Staring down the Royal horsies at the Royal Mews. Quacking at people while on a Duck Boat (just as much fun as the ones in Boston, in case you’re curious). Getting a wicked bad case of vertigo on the London Eye. Falling in love with the show “Mock the Week”.
Going in the circle, and touching the stones (!!!!), at Stonehenge.
Here’s the part of the programme (HA!) where ya’ll think I’ve lost my mind. Or I confirm that fact for you. Whatever.
Ever since I gave up on the idea that there is a Christian God, I’ve been interested in other religions. For whatever reason, I was drawn to the pagans. Stonehenge, of course, is a spiritual center of sorts. You can google it all you want to get the history, but I can tell you, there is some sort of magick going on over there. I felt it in high school, I felt it in 2002 and this year, it rocked my world.
We spent a fortune on a tour SPECIFICALLY because we could go into the circle. At sunset.
We got to play with dowsing rods* and prove that there is some sort of power there, in that circle. I can tell you, there is something going on there. It’s not quite that the rocks hum or vibrate or anything really perceptible, but there is something going on. I can feel it, but I’ve always been tapped into that “other realm”. (A story for another time. Maybe Halloween.) Standing within the stones, touching them, walking among them was such an experience and I’m glad that we were able to have that opportunity. It put a lot of stuff into perspective. Stuff that had been carried forward for years… stuff that was better off being left firmly in my past. When we boarded the bus to leave, I felt such incredible closure.
It’s almost as if whatever power lives there knew what I needed and gave it to me.
And I can’t thank it enough.
*Dowsing rods are debunked more than they’re proven to work. David Allen has proven, to me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that if you think of something like spinning a paper clip that’s hanging on a string, you can make it happen without moving your hand. So, I know some of it is me. The rest… well, if you’ve ever had a planchette fly across an ouija board and crash into a wall when YOUR hands are the only ones on it, you’ll probably understand where I’m coming from.
instrument (the band) :: mohegan sun, uncasville, ct :: august 13, 2008
I’ve been really fortunate in the past two years. The ability to reconnect with old friends has been nothing short of amazing. Through Facebook and MySpace, I’ve found a lot of people I knew in college. It’s nice to be back in touch with them. Really nice.
One of the perks is that I’ve become a groupie of my friend Derek’s band. It wasn’t my intent, but since the drummer and I went to college together, marched bass drum together and hung out together in South Campus, it was kind of inevitable. It doesn’t help that the Latvian half of my brain goes to the shows, and where she goes, I will most likely follow. Just like in college. (Hey, an introvert like me needs to follow a bulldozer that’s plowing down a field of daisies. It makes my entry into social situations much less traumatic because all the attention is on the bulldozer. But in a good way. Honest.) It’s also kind of inevitable that I will find someone I went to college with at an Instrument show.
At any rate, I drove the two and a half hours to Connecticut to see Instrument play at Mohegan Sun in a Battle of the Bands. Their story never ceases to amaze me… Out of 300 something bands, they made the top eight. They haven’t been together very long and the last time I heard them play, they were really rough and I didn’t think they were very good. It’s amazing what a few months can do. Seriously. They’re amazing for being a little local band. Then again, I’ve had the pleasure of being friends with members of some of the best Connecticut bands ever - Spring Heeled Jack and BiG MiSTAKE - so this shouldn’t have been a huge shock.
Once we found Boski, we found the Dig Dugs. I haven’t seen these people in over 10 years and it was just like I’d last seen them yesterday at the practice field. (Well, with the exception that Dig Dug was carrying around a baby instead of an instrument…) There were lots of laughs and lots of fun. Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose, non? It’s so weird to hang out with these people outside of the familiar settings, to include them in our new lives, but at the same time, it is so very, very nice.
I learned something Wednesday night. Something important. From someone who has instantly been granted membership in my small, exclusive outer circle just for that BFO.
I often forget that people don’t know both my parents died from complications due to alcoholism and that I don’t drink for that very reason. Now that I’m older (and somewhat wiser), I’m better around alcohol, but being around it still causes me to put my defenses up. So, at dinner with the band and friends, the lead singer, Ben, asked me if I wanted a drink. Instantly on the defensive because the rest of them were discussing beer, I told him I didn’t drink. The look on his face when he asked me, “Not even water?” was both adorable and heartbreaking. I had kind of tuned out the rest of them and I think he had noticed and was trying to bring me back.
So, yeah. Lesson learned… I might want to relax a little more when I get asked that vague a question. My response was appropriate had he asked me if I wanted a beer, but I shouldn’t always jump to that conclusion.
He was also responsible for teaching me what it feels to be like on the other side of the pre-hug size up. Normally, I’m the one that’s dealing with the whole-I-don’t-want-to-be-touched-by-someone-I-just-met thing. When he hugged V, I was kind of wondering if I should follow suit and then I was aware that I was being sized up in the same manner. Apparently, he’s rather shy. (Could have fooled me.) So we hugged. But when I was driving home, I couldn’t stop reflecting on how he affected me. It’s not often that my guard is down far enough for these things to actually affect me. Normally, I deflect things like that and I’ve become so good at it, I don’t normally know I’m doing it. For whatever reason, Wednesday night, I was totally in the moment. That really, seriously, never happens. Thanks, Ben!
I could really learn to like living in the moment. Luckily, I think I’ll have a lot more opportunities.