He has an ambivalent relationship with the Tube. The invention is genius, of course, but sometimes there are too many people who canât seem to comprehend how to behave. Especially when embarking or disembarking the carriages. Grown ups suddenly seem to have left their common sense behind on the platform or inside the train.
âMind the gap,â the familiar voice tells them all.
At least, this announcement seems to register in everyone. To this day, Sherlock has never encountered anyone who has seriously miscalculated entering or leaving the train. He knows it occurs obviously; people are idiots after all.
What he has experienced in abundance, however, are morons trying to get on the train while others are trying to get off. Simultaneously. Itâs evident than neither of these human beings have any clue about logistics. Or physics for that matter.
Because of this, he avoids the Tube like the plague in the rush hours, not to mention in the summer when hordes of dim-witted tourists are invading the city.
Sherlock is aware that not every place on the planet have underground transportation systems like London has, which the forementioned tourists prove on an hourly basis, but surely one should expect people to do their research before travelling to a large city. They donât even know how to place themselves on the escalators, for goodnessâ sake! There are signs which inform them to stand on the right so that people like Sherlock, whoâs always in a hurry, can leap up the moving device on the left side. Sometimes, he wonders if theyâre all illiterate.
***
âWatch your step!â
âAre you talking to me?â
Sherlock is genuinely puzzled. Nobody ever tells him to mind where heâs going. He never stands still long enough.
âYes, you moron!â
And then, Sherlock finds himself manhandled to the side by a strong but small man with blue eyes, blond hair, tanned skin, and an abandoned cane that lies some feet away on the platform.
âYou were about to step right into â â
âAfghanistan or Iraq?â
âWhat?â
âYou heard me.â
***
âOil spill. WatchâŚâ
Sherlockâs arms flail in an attempt to regain his balance when his shoe slips on the spilled oil, but just before he falls, strong arms catch him.
âIâve got you,â John murmurs close to Sherlockâs ear.
His face flushes as if heâs suddenly been exposed to a roaring fire. Before heâs able to catalogue how his body responds to being held by John, his equilibrium is restored, and John retreats.
âThank you,â Sherlock mutters.
Heâs mortified to find himself in such an undignified situation, witnessed by his capable flatmate who more often than not, praises Sherlockâs agility. This calamity will certainly put a stop to that.
âAre you alright?â John asks quietly.
âOf course,â Sherlock says with false self-confidence.
***
âFucking idiot!â
âIndeed.â
âDid he just try to walk straight through me?â
âSo it seems.â
âI fear for humanity, Sherlock. Truly.â
Sherlock hums in agreement and relishes the fact that they are pressed tightly together in a packed carriage. The man who moments earlier tried to disembark the train, clearly needed glasses. Granted, John isnât as tall as Sherlock, but he isnât small as a child either. John had tried to prevent the collision from happening, but the train was simply too crowded to move more than an inch. Sherlock on his part, had been too preoccupied with his phone to stop the stupid man. However, he quite enjoys having John plastered to his side after the incident, so thereâs that.
A jolt makes a woman lose her balance, and to steady herself, she takes a small step toward John. Her high heel lands heavily on Johnâs foot, who cries out in pain.
âWatch your step!â Sherlock scolds the unlucky woman, who apologises with pink cheeks and a nervous laughter.
âItâs fine, Sherlock,â John mumbles, though his grimace tells another story.
âAre you hurt?â
âItâll probably bruise, but nothingâs broken,â John assures him.
Sherlock looks sceptically down at him and manhandles John to stand closer to the side of the door where no one can reach him.
âOi! Iâm not a puppet you can just â â
âShut up, John. I need my blogger and doctor unscathed.â
John starts to giggle once heâs finished rolling his eyes. This always leads to one thing â Sherlock joins him. It is impossible to stay imperious and aloof when he hears Johnâs laughter, which is extremely contagious.
âYou madman,â John grins once heâs composed himself.
âYou call me such lovely things, John.â Sherlock says softly, quietly.
John inhales sharply and meets Sherlockâs gaze. The silent conversation that takes place, is impossible for the other passengers to decipher, but the sparks that fly like fireworks through the train, does indeed register. Not on the Richter scale, but close.
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[#FFF361 Watch Your Step ]
Where are your characters going? What are they watching out for? Are they avoiding people in a crowd? Carefully traversing a dangerous path? Or simply trying to not get wet from all the puddles? And if they do misstep...how bad are the consequences? It's time for you to go write and let us know! Let your ideas flow!!
Meelo vaulted across the dining hall to slam into her for a hug. It took all of her combat training to keep from falling backwards and breaking her back over the duffle bag slung over her shoulder.
âMeelo, weâve talked about this. Iâm getting too old to catch you like that.â
Rather than reply, Meelo went running off down the hall toward his fatherâs study.
She greeted Pema and the girls, even getting a red bean bun fresh from the steamer. Pemaâs side-eye wasnât even really very aggravated.
She was beginning to turn around when Pema warned, âWatch your step, Meelo! Donât crowd up behind people like that.â
Kya looked behind herself to see her nephew managing to keep his grumbling almost under control.
He looked up at her. âDad says heâs in the middle of something. Can you go find Lin down the hidden stairs? He says to bring her back up here for dinner.â
Kya shrugged. âI can do that. I haven been down that way in a long time.â
Meelo snapped his fingers. âOh yeah. Dad said you should watch your step. He said those stairs got broken a while back and he never got them fixed.â
She looked up to see Pemaâs face fall from a smile into sadness. When their eyes met, Kya knew just when those stairs got âbroken.â
With a calming breath, she patted Meelo on the shoulder, nodded to Pema, and went off to find Lin.
Outside, the late afternoon was beautiful. The breeze was light, and the scudding clouds overhead gave a dappled quality to the sunlight. She looked around and made sure none of the children or acolytes were paying any attention when she hopped over a fence and oriented herself to find the stairs Bumi and Izumi had originally laid out so many years before.
Once Lin had started bending, she had worked over the years to shore up the stairs and make them sturdier and safer. Su had contributed some decorative motifs when she was small, but by the time Kya left to travel, Su was already not coming to the Island very often.
And then, she gathered, it had been how Lin and Tenzin had escaped from their duties or other unwanted attention.
But when she reached the first stair, it looked fresh and clean.
In fact, there was a yellow lily that had clearly been recently cut laying there.
Kya picked it up. There was no note, nothing to indicate why the flower was there. She argued with herself, but decided to hold on to it. She glanced further along the winding stone stairs, and thought she spotted another.
By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, she was holding more flowers than she could count. Pink, blue, yellow, red⌠she didnât even know the names of several of them.
But they smelled wonderful, and she was having a nice time rearranging them the more she gathered on the walk down.
Once she reached the bottom of the staircase near the shoreline, the line of flowers meandered away past a rocky outcropping.
And at the top, Lin sat with one knee bent in front of herself, her arms wrapped around her leg. She was gazing away to the horizon, apparently oblivious to Kyaâs approach.
It took her breath away, looking up at her. Linâs hair was looser than usual, and longer than Kya typically got to see it (out in public anyway). The yellowing rays of the sun illuminated her left side, nearly making her glow against a bank of storm clouds far off to the east.
Kya walked a little further toward the water, hoping to cross Linâs line of sight, even if it meant leaving some of the flowers on the ground a little longer.
The smile on Linâs face was so soft, yet so distinct. Kya felt her heart race when Lin turned her face to meet her eyes.
âYouâre early.â
Kya chuckled.
âOnly by a few hours. You look awfully prepared to me. Were all these,â she lifted the spontaneous bouquet in her arms, âall for me?â
Lin inclined her head, still smiling. She shifted to her right, opening some space. She waved her left hand over that face of the rock, spilling a set of stairs down to the sand.
âCare to join me? Just leave the flowers and watch your step.â
Kya leaned in to take another lungful of the flowersâ perfume before finding a spot where they werenât likely to get swept away if the tide came in. She kept her right hand on the rockâs face as she toed her way up to meet Lin.
When she was at eye level, Lin leaned over for a kiss.
The relief of it swayed her until Lin reached over and grabbed her left elbow, helping her edge closer and take a seat. Once Kya was settled, they linked their hands and turned back to watch the waves in the distance.
âYou fixed the stairs,â Kya ventured.
Lin squeezed her hand.
âI should have a long time ago.â Her thumb rubbed against Kyaâs hand. âThey never complained, never asked. They just let the trees grow, and these kids never found them.â She blew an amused scoff.
Kya leaned over to steal another kiss. âMeelo might start asking questions about the âhidden stairs,â after tonight.â
Linâs smile turned a little sharp.
âWho do you think helped me set out all those flowers?â
Kya blinked. âReally?â
Lin dropped her hand long enough to lean over to the other side of the rock. When she straightened, there was a small red box in her hand. She twisted it until a latch was visible.
She extended it to Kya, her face a mix of relaxed and intense. She extended the box, clearly inviting Kya to open it. Inside was a pair of silver earrings with red jewels.
âA bit off your usual blues, I know. But I made them from some red jade Poppy left for me.â
Kya reached out and swapped them for the ones she had been wearing.
The change in Linâs expression told her how they looked.
âWatch your step, Beifong, or Iâll be expecting gifts like this all the time.â
Linâs smile brightened further. She reached around the box and lifted a tab, revealing a ring.
You felt strong fingers grip your bicep, firm but not hard enough to bruise. The hand pulled you to the side, fast enough that you nearly tripped over your own feet.
âWhat the hell, Dean?â
The hunter said nothing, just tipped his chin towards where youâd been walking, where youâd just been about to step.
There, in the dirt path, was a pile of steamingâ
âHorse shit,â Dean said concisely, a scowl on his face. He looked around, making sure no more piles were in the vicinity. âThis place is disgusting.â
âItâs authentic,â you said, trying to keep a straight face.
âAuthentic? That guy over thereâs on a cell phone. That woman in the candle tent is paying for her fifteen new candles with a credit card!â The crease in his brow deepened. âAnd who the hell buys fifteen candles at one time? Thereâs something suspicious about herâŚâ
âDean,â Sam hissed from the other side of his brother, watching as Deanâs other hand inched toward his belt, toward the gun. âDo not pull your gun on that woman.â
âLighten up, Dean,â you said. âTry to enjoy yourself.â
âEnjoy myself?â Dean repeated. âWeâre out here, baking in the sun, almost stepping in shit, watching people flounce around in medieval clothing, acting as if that time period was really better than what we have today. I mean, come on, half these people wouldâve bit it during the Black Plague, and they know it!â
Sam gave a pained smile to an aghast family that passed by, the mother covering her young childâs ears with her hands. âDean, tone it down.â
âNo, Sammy, I will not. Iâm tired of being strung along by you two to these ridiculous places all in the name of âfunâ. This isnât âfunâ-- this is a history lesson in the middle of nowhere. Andââ Deanâs eyes widened, his rant halting. He sniffed once, twice. âIs thatâŚâ He turned, his eyes landing on the source of the smell. âOh, hell yeah. Now thatâs what Iâm talking about!â
You and Sam watched as Dean trotted over to the stall selling smoked turkey legs.
âRemind me why we brought him with us?â Sam said quietly to you.
âBecause you and I both know heâs secretly a nerd.â
âAnd a glutton,â Sam added, grimacing slightly at the two oversized turkey legs in his brotherâs hands. âIs that⌠bacon-wrapped?â
Dean nodded as he took a huge bite from one. âYou know it.â He took another bite before even swallowing the first. âGuy said thereâs a jousting tournament in five minutes. Come on!â
He turned and headed to the left at a quick pace.
âWeaponry and meat,â you said with a small shake of your head. âAnd Dean thought this wouldnât be up his alley.âÂ
You and Sam followed the elder hunter. Your eyes noticed the mess just a split-second before disaster. âDean, lookâ!â
The two of you heard the squish, even from a few feet away. Dean froze in place, looking down at his boot, fully pressed into a smelly brown heap. âSon of a bitch!â
Written (late) for @flashfictionfridayofficial
FFF361: Watch Your Step
Fandom: Arcane
Ship: Marvika (Pre-canon Margot X Sevika)
Word Count: 728
CW: Recreational drug use (mentioned), sex work (implied)
Summary: Sevika picks Margot up from work, even though they've been fighting. (They're around 21 here)
Though some would claim otherwise, Margot hated topside as much as the next undercity resident. Probably more on nights when hands wandered and tips ran low. But the fact was that a solid one-night gig dancing in Lower Piltover could cover her rent for a month. Three if she smuggled some of Renniâs powder over the bridge and let the factory foremen and mine supervisors snort bumps off the divets above her collarbones.Â
And a job like the one old man Chross set up tonightâa gentlemanâs club way up in the Academy District, the type littered with doctors and judges with wandering eyes and full pocketsâcould be enough to get her and Sevika a place of their own out in Bilgewater. Away from the mines and the grey and the enforcers. Away from the self-styled revolutionaries who hardly knew their asses from their elbows, much less how to run a fully autonomous city-state.Â
She and Sevika got into it every time Margot found work topsideâjust like they did whenever Sev pulled a risky job for Vander and Silco and didnât charge for itâbut tonightâs argument had felt more dramatic than usual. Maybe permanent. But at least bad enough that Margot stormed out of their shitty apartment in her costume, all tight leather and stiletto heels, completely forgetting the bag with her clothes to change into after.Â
Margot sighed as she stepped out onto the quiet Piltie cobblestones a few hours before dawn. The walk home at this hour was unpleasant at the best of times, but nowâhalf-naked and largely unarmed, carrying more cash than most fissure folk touched in half a yearâit was sure to become a full-fledged safety hazard.Â
She had just turned onto the main road, wondering if her nails were sharp enough to dig an eye out if she were pressed, when one of her heels caught on the cobbles and threw her off balance. She would have landed face first if not for a familiar arm grabbing her around the waist.Â
âWatch your step,â Sevika said, the hand moving away once Margot regained her balance.
âWhat the hell are you doing here, Sev?â Margot asked, her voice coming out more tired than acidic.Â
Her girlfriendâex-girlfriend?âshrugged.Â
âYou left your shit.â Without another word, Sevika handed over the bag Margot had forgotten by their bedroom door. âFigured you wouldnât wanna walk home in those stilts.âÂ
âWhatâs it to you now, anyway?â Margot crossed her hands over her chest, pouting despite herself. âIâm just some sellout whoâd do anything for a quick buck, right?â
Sevika sighed. âI never said that.âÂ
Margot rolled her eyes. âSev, I was your first,â she said. âI can make you squirt rivers for me without even touching you. Since when have you ever had to say a word for me to know what youâre thinking, what you want?â
Sevika let her gaze trail languidly over Margotâs entire body, sending a rush of wanting through her that had been absent while she danced all night. âWhat am I thinking now, doll, since you know everything?â
Margot grinned despite herself. âThat Iâm too good a lay to walk away from, even if Iâm never gonna be one of your protest broads.âÂ
âClose enough,â Sev said, and kissed her, all smoke and bottom shelf whiskey, and something faintly sweet. Margot melted into it, her head tilting back as Sevika licked the length of her neck and then nibbled on her collarbone. âYouâre perfect for me, doll.â
âWeâre in the middle of the street,â Margot warned when her girlfriendâs hand found its way between her thighs. âIâm not trying to spend another night in Stillwater for indecent exposure.âÂ
One more kiss and Sevika released her. âChange your shoes and let me take you home.â
Margot used Sevâs forearm for balance as she stepped out of her heels and into a pair of well worn black boots. She hissed a little as the heel brushed against a fresh blister, and Sevâs eyes clouded over with concern.Â
âNeed me to carry you, doll?â
âNeed is a strong word,â Margot told her. âBut if you insistâŚâÂ
Sheâd be lying if she ever said she got tired of it, the way Sev scooped her up one-handed and carried her back to the Lanes. She feared sheâd completely be fucked over this woman until the day she finally kicked it.
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