Drabble: Going Holmes
Sep. 17th, 2016 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bk_forever
Title: Going Holmes
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
badly_knitted
Characters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 413: Twelve at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tw100.
Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack doesn’t want to let go of his costume party alter ego.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: A little coda to my fic ‘The Game’s Afoot’.
The morning after Cardiff Heddlu’s Halloween Costume party, Jack was still in character as Sherlock Holmes. Not that he was still in costume, Ianto had at least managed to persuade him to dress in his usual World War II era clothing, but the British accent was still in place, as was the pipe, though thankfully it remained unlit.
Ianto was busying himself making coffee when Jack approached.
“There you are, Watson! What’s afoot, my good man?”
“Twelve inches,” Ianto replied.
“What?”
Ianto smirked as Jack’s American accent reasserted itself.
“A foot is twelve inches, Sir, and the party’s over.”
“Spoilsport.”
The End
Author:
badly_knittedCharacters: Jack, Ianto.
Rating: G
Written For: Challenge 413: Twelve at
tw100.Spoilers: Nada.
Summary: Jack doesn’t want to let go of his costume party alter ego.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Torchwood, or the characters.
A/N: A little coda to my fic ‘The Game’s Afoot’.
The morning after Cardiff Heddlu’s Halloween Costume party, Jack was still in character as Sherlock Holmes. Not that he was still in costume, Ianto had at least managed to persuade him to dress in his usual World War II era clothing, but the British accent was still in place, as was the pipe, though thankfully it remained unlit.
Ianto was busying himself making coffee when Jack approached.
“There you are, Watson! What’s afoot, my good man?”
“Twelve inches,” Ianto replied.
“What?”
Ianto smirked as Jack’s American accent reasserted itself.
“A foot is twelve inches, Sir, and the party’s over.”
“Spoilsport.”
The End
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