Fic for parachute_silks: never enough
Jun. 4th, 2011 07:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
holmesticemods posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmesticeTitle: never enough (high school AUs)
Recipient:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
parachute_silks
Author:ladyofthelog
Pairings: past girl!John/Molly, future girl!Sherlock/girl!John
Characters: girl!Sherlock, girl!John, Molly, Soo Lin
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: "She's so dreamy," Molly said. "See? I was right."
"You thought Jane Moriarty was dreamy, and she tried to blow up the
school." Joanna said.
So. This is a femslash genderswap Canadian high school AU. Yup.
Note: This fic started out as a short little thing and rapidly
turned into a sprawling… something. I think this stands on its own,
but there's more to come post-reveal. :)
never enough
Molly developed a crush on their new classmate before Sherlock ever
set foot in C. F. Fraser High School.
"I hear she's from the UK," she told Joanna at lunch. Molly had
trigonometry second period with Kenny Prince, whose mother was the
school secretary. Thanks to Kenny, juicy gossip hit the eleventh grade
even before it reached their teachers.
"Hmm," Joanna said, her attention occupied by sandwich (peanut butter, chunky).
"I bet she has a gorgeous accent. Just like Karen Gillan."
"Karen Gillan's from Scotland."
"Or Eve Myles."
"Eve Myles is Welsh."
"Eve Myles is beautiful." Molly sighed longingly. She glanced
down at her applesauce as if it might agree with her.
"Well, yes," Joanna conceded. "But this isn't TV. The new girl's
probably stuck up and hates Halifax already and has bad teeth."
They paused a moment to consider this.
"That's a stereotype," Molly said.
"Eh," Joanna said. She took another bite of her sandwich.
-
When Joanna got home after school, she went straight to her room and
started on her homework. French first, then trig, then biology, from
the subject she liked least to the one she liked most. Then she
outlined her paper on Julius Caesar. It wasn't due until the next
week, but Joanna liked getting started on things early. Joanna had
goals.
Such as getting out of Nova Scotia. Getting out of Canada, even, maybe.
Professional hockey wasn't in the cards anymore. So – grades, then.
Joanna wasn't afraid of working hard. It wasn't like her social life
was anything to speak of. She and Molly studied together, watched
Doctor Who together, even dated once before deciding it was a terrible
idea. Sometimes she went to the mall with Sally Donovan. Sally had
been her best friend all through primary school, but after Joanna came
out, their friendship had gotten kind of weird.
Joanna had Molly, though. Her sister Harry, even though she was a
third year at McGill now and never home. And their mom and dad and
Fletcher the cat, and that was plenty of things to have, really.
-
Sherlock Holmes had beautiful teeth. She had beautiful everything.
Her legs were long and draped elegantly with wool trousers (Comme des
Garçons, according to Kenny) and her tailored blouses exposed an
equally flawless and slender neck. Her wavy black hair was cropped
into a bob that made her look like a silent film star. She manifestly
didn't belong in C. F. Fraser High School, let alone Halifax.
Sherlock also didn't belong in Joanna's French class, critiquing Mrs.
Turner's français québécois. Neither did she belong in biology,
charming Mrs. Hudson (Joanna's favorite teacher). Nor did she belong
three tables down from Joanna and Molly at lunch, complating her lunch
with what looked like revulsion.
"She's so dreamy," Molly said. "See? I was right."
"You thought Jane Moriarty was dreamy, and she tried to blow up the
school." That had made the front page of the Chronicle Herald,
and even got a mention in the Globe & Mail.
Molly's brows drew together. "Buffy blew up her high school."
Three tables away, Sherlock had dismissed her lunch entirely and
pulled out a book. "Maybe we should invite her over to our table,"
Joanna said. She wasn't serious. No girl like that would eat lunch
with them. Sometimes Maggie Stamford did, when she was more
interested in figuring out polar coordinates than the
off-again-on-again drama that was Sally's relationship with Ted
Anderson, but Maggie was pretty much the only company they got. (Kenny
strenuously avoided being seen with them in vain hope that the
entirety of C. F. Fraser had not connected the flaming rainbow dots.)
"Oh! I couldn't– I mean–"
"I know, I know." Joanna patted her hand. "It's like Ksenia Solo."
"Yeah." Molly smiled, her eyes glazing over a little.
"And how you hid in the bathroom to get away from her?" (Montreal.
School trip. Second Cup.)
"…yeah."
"Except she'll be in the bathroom."
Molly inhaled sharply. "I'll never pee again."
"You'll be okay," Joanna said. She unwrapped her sandwich: today it
was peanut butter (creamy) and raspberry jam. "In a week, she'll have
dumped a Coke down the front of herself like Jennifer Wilson did and
proved she's human like the rest of us."
"Uh huh," said Molly. She had a tupperware full of leftover Chinese
for lunch, and Joanna was a little envious. "For sure."
-
Soo Lin Yao had been Joanna's lab partner since eighth grade. While
Soo Lin wasn't particularly interested in science, she was very
precise and their experiments always turned out well. Joanna took
detailed notes and tried to look like she was participating. The
arrangement benefited them both.
So she was a little taken aback, the next morning, when Soo Lin
dropped her bag off next to Kenny Prince before doubling back to
Joanna, an apologetic look on her face. "Mrs. Hudson asked me if I'd
sit with Kenny for a while," she said. "The new girl made him cry. I
don't want Kenny to cry."
"Yikes," Joanna said, which was all the eloquence she could manage on
short notice. "I, uh– okay?" She pulled out her lab notebook and the
lecture notes from her backpack and spread them out on the table. They
were dissecting a frog today. Of course.
Just before the bell rang, Sherlock glided into class, and after a
brief pause at Mrs. Hudson's desk, she came around the side of
Joanna's table and slid into the chair gracefully. For a moment,
Joanna saw the world through Molly's lavender-colored glasses, but
then she shook her head just the slightest bit and the vision
subsided. Sherlock Holmes might be all glamour and genius, but she was
Joanna Watson, short and studious and unafraid to sacrifice her
dignity by borrowing her mom's flannel-lined jeans when the weather
turned cold. She could stand up to whatever Sherlock tried to throw
her way.
"I'll do the lab work," Sherlock said brusquely, which answered one
question, "It seems logical to divide our tasks based on our areas of
competence, and," she looked over at Joanna's notes, "Your handwriting
is certainly better than mine."
Well, that answered the other. "Right," Joanna said, shuffling her
papers into a neat stack.
Sherlock began to pull out her own lab supplies. "One 'n'," she added.
"What?"
"The genus," Sherlock said. "You've spelled it wrong. One 'n'."
"So I have," Joanna said. She didn't fix it. Instead she dropped her
left hand to her lap and stretched it before rubbing at the skin
between each finger.
Sherlock sighed. It wasn't like Molly's sighs, which yearned, or Soo
Lin's, which spoke of thoughtful concentration. It was a put-upon
sigh. "I don't know why I bother."
Joanna sat back in her chair, hard, and looked up at Sherlock. (Even
sitting down, she had to look up.) The school announcements were about
to start, so everyone was still chattering amongst themselves, and no
one was paying attention to their table all the way at the front.
"Look," she said, her voice low. "I don't doubt that wherever you're
from is a thousand times more interesting than here, and maybe you've
dissected a thousand frogs, or made them rain from the sky, I don't
know. I'm sure you feel like having to be lab partners with the girl
who can hardly hold a scalpel is some kind of cruel and unusual
punishment. Let's just work together for now, and maybe you can sit
with Sally tomorrow, or someone else who can properly hold your
attention."
Sherlock stared at her for a moment.
Joanna stared right back.
"Although the injury that ended your athletic career was to your neck,
most people assume it was the fall on your left knee that took you off
the field. You used a cane for a year, though less frequently as time
went on and your knee healed. Nevertheless, you still have a
pronounced limp because you are afraid of reinjuring your knee. The
nerve damage to your left arm proved more serious, and was only
partially reversible with surgery. Your left and dominant arm is now
substantially weaker than your right, and you will never have full
control of your fourth and fifth fingers." Sherlock paused for breath.
"Your conclusion that my frustration with this assignment was related
to your disability was false and entirely based on your own fears and
embarrassment about your limitations. What sport?"
"Hockey," Joanna said. And then– "That was amazing."
"That's not what most people say." The announcements started up, loud
and tinny from the TV over Mrs. Hudson's desk.
"What do they say?"
The corner of Sherlock's mouth crooked up. "Generally? 'Piss off.'"
-
"You talked to her," Molly said, leaning in as Joanna spun the
combination to her locker. "I saw you. What did she say? Maggie
kept talking and I couldn't hear."
"That I spelled 'rana' wrong." The lock released and Joanna shoved her
biology textbook and notes inside before grabbing her lunch bag from
the top shelf. "Nothing interesting," she lied.
"Maggie said that she made Kenny cry in English this morning. Mr.
Dimmock didn't know what to do." Molly shifted her own stack of books
in her arms. Her locker was on the second floor, out of the way, so
Molly was toting a small library around with her.
Joanna closed her locker and held out her arms for some of the pile.
"I'm embarrassed to be carrying this for you," she said when Molly
stuck her kitten notebook on top. "Just so you know."
As they walked down the hall toward the cafeteria, Molly lowered her
voice, "Joanna, if you want Soo Lin back as your lab partner, I could
switch with you and Maggie could sit with Kenny."
"Nah," Joanna said. Carefully, she balanced Molly's books in one arm
and reached back to adjust the shoulder strap of her backpack. "I
think I'm okay."
Recipient:
parachute_silksAuthor:
ladyofthelog Pairings: past girl!John/Molly, future girl!Sherlock/girl!John
Characters: girl!Sherlock, girl!John, Molly, Soo Lin
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: "She's so dreamy," Molly said. "See? I was right."
"You thought Jane Moriarty was dreamy, and she tried to blow up the
school." Joanna said.
So. This is a femslash genderswap Canadian high school AU. Yup.
Note: This fic started out as a short little thing and rapidly
turned into a sprawling… something. I think this stands on its own,
but there's more to come post-reveal. :)
never enough
Molly developed a crush on their new classmate before Sherlock ever
set foot in C. F. Fraser High School.
"I hear she's from the UK," she told Joanna at lunch. Molly had
trigonometry second period with Kenny Prince, whose mother was the
school secretary. Thanks to Kenny, juicy gossip hit the eleventh grade
even before it reached their teachers.
"Hmm," Joanna said, her attention occupied by sandwich (peanut butter, chunky).
"I bet she has a gorgeous accent. Just like Karen Gillan."
"Karen Gillan's from Scotland."
"Or Eve Myles."
"Eve Myles is Welsh."
"Eve Myles is beautiful." Molly sighed longingly. She glanced
down at her applesauce as if it might agree with her.
"Well, yes," Joanna conceded. "But this isn't TV. The new girl's
probably stuck up and hates Halifax already and has bad teeth."
They paused a moment to consider this.
"That's a stereotype," Molly said.
"Eh," Joanna said. She took another bite of her sandwich.
When Joanna got home after school, she went straight to her room and
started on her homework. French first, then trig, then biology, from
the subject she liked least to the one she liked most. Then she
outlined her paper on Julius Caesar. It wasn't due until the next
week, but Joanna liked getting started on things early. Joanna had
goals.
Such as getting out of Nova Scotia. Getting out of Canada, even, maybe.
Professional hockey wasn't in the cards anymore. So – grades, then.
Joanna wasn't afraid of working hard. It wasn't like her social life
was anything to speak of. She and Molly studied together, watched
Doctor Who together, even dated once before deciding it was a terrible
idea. Sometimes she went to the mall with Sally Donovan. Sally had
been her best friend all through primary school, but after Joanna came
out, their friendship had gotten kind of weird.
Joanna had Molly, though. Her sister Harry, even though she was a
third year at McGill now and never home. And their mom and dad and
Fletcher the cat, and that was plenty of things to have, really.
Sherlock Holmes had beautiful teeth. She had beautiful everything.
Her legs were long and draped elegantly with wool trousers (Comme des
Garçons, according to Kenny) and her tailored blouses exposed an
equally flawless and slender neck. Her wavy black hair was cropped
into a bob that made her look like a silent film star. She manifestly
didn't belong in C. F. Fraser High School, let alone Halifax.
Sherlock also didn't belong in Joanna's French class, critiquing Mrs.
Turner's français québécois. Neither did she belong in biology,
charming Mrs. Hudson (Joanna's favorite teacher). Nor did she belong
three tables down from Joanna and Molly at lunch, complating her lunch
with what looked like revulsion.
"She's so dreamy," Molly said. "See? I was right."
"You thought Jane Moriarty was dreamy, and she tried to blow up the
school." That had made the front page of the Chronicle Herald,
and even got a mention in the Globe & Mail.
Molly's brows drew together. "Buffy blew up her high school."
Three tables away, Sherlock had dismissed her lunch entirely and
pulled out a book. "Maybe we should invite her over to our table,"
Joanna said. She wasn't serious. No girl like that would eat lunch
with them. Sometimes Maggie Stamford did, when she was more
interested in figuring out polar coordinates than the
off-again-on-again drama that was Sally's relationship with Ted
Anderson, but Maggie was pretty much the only company they got. (Kenny
strenuously avoided being seen with them in vain hope that the
entirety of C. F. Fraser had not connected the flaming rainbow dots.)
"Oh! I couldn't– I mean–"
"I know, I know." Joanna patted her hand. "It's like Ksenia Solo."
"Yeah." Molly smiled, her eyes glazing over a little.
"And how you hid in the bathroom to get away from her?" (Montreal.
School trip. Second Cup.)
"…yeah."
"Except she'll be in the bathroom."
Molly inhaled sharply. "I'll never pee again."
"You'll be okay," Joanna said. She unwrapped her sandwich: today it
was peanut butter (creamy) and raspberry jam. "In a week, she'll have
dumped a Coke down the front of herself like Jennifer Wilson did and
proved she's human like the rest of us."
"Uh huh," said Molly. She had a tupperware full of leftover Chinese
for lunch, and Joanna was a little envious. "For sure."
Soo Lin Yao had been Joanna's lab partner since eighth grade. While
Soo Lin wasn't particularly interested in science, she was very
precise and their experiments always turned out well. Joanna took
detailed notes and tried to look like she was participating. The
arrangement benefited them both.
So she was a little taken aback, the next morning, when Soo Lin
dropped her bag off next to Kenny Prince before doubling back to
Joanna, an apologetic look on her face. "Mrs. Hudson asked me if I'd
sit with Kenny for a while," she said. "The new girl made him cry. I
don't want Kenny to cry."
"Yikes," Joanna said, which was all the eloquence she could manage on
short notice. "I, uh– okay?" She pulled out her lab notebook and the
lecture notes from her backpack and spread them out on the table. They
were dissecting a frog today. Of course.
Just before the bell rang, Sherlock glided into class, and after a
brief pause at Mrs. Hudson's desk, she came around the side of
Joanna's table and slid into the chair gracefully. For a moment,
Joanna saw the world through Molly's lavender-colored glasses, but
then she shook her head just the slightest bit and the vision
subsided. Sherlock Holmes might be all glamour and genius, but she was
Joanna Watson, short and studious and unafraid to sacrifice her
dignity by borrowing her mom's flannel-lined jeans when the weather
turned cold. She could stand up to whatever Sherlock tried to throw
her way.
"I'll do the lab work," Sherlock said brusquely, which answered one
question, "It seems logical to divide our tasks based on our areas of
competence, and," she looked over at Joanna's notes, "Your handwriting
is certainly better than mine."
Well, that answered the other. "Right," Joanna said, shuffling her
papers into a neat stack.
Sherlock began to pull out her own lab supplies. "One 'n'," she added.
"What?"
"The genus," Sherlock said. "You've spelled it wrong. One 'n'."
"So I have," Joanna said. She didn't fix it. Instead she dropped her
left hand to her lap and stretched it before rubbing at the skin
between each finger.
Sherlock sighed. It wasn't like Molly's sighs, which yearned, or Soo
Lin's, which spoke of thoughtful concentration. It was a put-upon
sigh. "I don't know why I bother."
Joanna sat back in her chair, hard, and looked up at Sherlock. (Even
sitting down, she had to look up.) The school announcements were about
to start, so everyone was still chattering amongst themselves, and no
one was paying attention to their table all the way at the front.
"Look," she said, her voice low. "I don't doubt that wherever you're
from is a thousand times more interesting than here, and maybe you've
dissected a thousand frogs, or made them rain from the sky, I don't
know. I'm sure you feel like having to be lab partners with the girl
who can hardly hold a scalpel is some kind of cruel and unusual
punishment. Let's just work together for now, and maybe you can sit
with Sally tomorrow, or someone else who can properly hold your
attention."
Sherlock stared at her for a moment.
Joanna stared right back.
"Although the injury that ended your athletic career was to your neck,
most people assume it was the fall on your left knee that took you off
the field. You used a cane for a year, though less frequently as time
went on and your knee healed. Nevertheless, you still have a
pronounced limp because you are afraid of reinjuring your knee. The
nerve damage to your left arm proved more serious, and was only
partially reversible with surgery. Your left and dominant arm is now
substantially weaker than your right, and you will never have full
control of your fourth and fifth fingers." Sherlock paused for breath.
"Your conclusion that my frustration with this assignment was related
to your disability was false and entirely based on your own fears and
embarrassment about your limitations. What sport?"
"Hockey," Joanna said. And then– "That was amazing."
"That's not what most people say." The announcements started up, loud
and tinny from the TV over Mrs. Hudson's desk.
"What do they say?"
The corner of Sherlock's mouth crooked up. "Generally? 'Piss off.'"
"You talked to her," Molly said, leaning in as Joanna spun the
combination to her locker. "I saw you. What did she say? Maggie
kept talking and I couldn't hear."
"That I spelled 'rana' wrong." The lock released and Joanna shoved her
biology textbook and notes inside before grabbing her lunch bag from
the top shelf. "Nothing interesting," she lied.
"Maggie said that she made Kenny cry in English this morning. Mr.
Dimmock didn't know what to do." Molly shifted her own stack of books
in her arms. Her locker was on the second floor, out of the way, so
Molly was toting a small library around with her.
Joanna closed her locker and held out her arms for some of the pile.
"I'm embarrassed to be carrying this for you," she said when Molly
stuck her kitten notebook on top. "Just so you know."
As they walked down the hall toward the cafeteria, Molly lowered her
voice, "Joanna, if you want Soo Lin back as your lab partner, I could
switch with you and Maggie could sit with Kenny."
"Nah," Joanna said. Carefully, she balanced Molly's books in one arm
and reached back to adjust the shoulder strap of her backpack. "I
think I'm okay."
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-06-04 09:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-05 05:02 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-08 08:54 am (UTC)Will try and list what I liked instead of just flailing madly:
1) "You thought Jane Moriarty was dreamy, and she tried to blow up the school." And the fact that Molly responds with "Buffy blew up her high school." That is a very sound point, Molly.
2) Kenny strenuously avoided being seen with them in vain hope that the entirety of C. F. Fraser had not connected the flaming rainbow dots. Hee. I love that you made genderswapped Connie Prince a character as well.
3) Your characterisation is beautiful. Joanna being so driven and focused and tough as anything beneath her tiny flannel-lined-jeans clad exterior. Sherlock being exotic and brilliant and completely obnoxious. And your Molly is adorable and perfect; I love her and Joanna being best friends.
4) The rewrite of the ASIP meeting; Joanna being self-conscious about her disabilities and Sherlock deducing how it happened (but not being able to tell instantly which sport - I like that she's not psychic) and the tiny little sort of smile.
5) I kind of love that it's set in Canada. I'm not sure why, as I don't really know anything about Canada. I think maybe it's the ice hockey. Girl!John having played ice hockey is pretty much the best thing ever.
In conclusion: I LOVE YOU LET'S GET MARRIED and the news that there is more of this to come has made my day ♥
no subject
Date: 2011-06-17 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-18 07:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-24 07:13 pm (UTC)