THANK YOU: 100... 100 reviews... wow! I have to say I'm really shocked! I wasn't expecting much attention at all, since this fandom is a major talent-hog; I didn't even notice the review count at all until just today! Wow! Ok! Well! Thank you so much! Wow! Thank... thank you. Yes. I hope I continue to serve you well!
A/N: As for this chapter, I kind of have to apologize; I wish I had something better to celebrate the 100-mark. Oh well, I hope you enjoy this little thing. Also I apologize in advance if Harry's character seems "meh," I'm never sure how I want to write her.
Pairing(s): Sherlock/John, Watson family feels
Warning(s): stupid old sayings, Mrs. Watson, family angst, references to alcoholism and homophobia, weird abrupt ending, Harry Watson, and cussing. Also little!John and the usual chunks of insatiable fluff.
Grass is Always Greener
Before life in the Watson household sufficiently went to shit, Mrs. Watson had been an old saying enthusiast. She had her hands full with her forever-overworked husband, rowdy tom-boy of a daughter, and endlessly well-meaning trouble-promoter of a son – she could hardly be expected to think up her own words of wisdom. Her sayings for young Harriet varied boundlessly but frequently included such gems as "Don't count your chickens before they hatch" or "If God leads you to it, he will leave you through it!" (For an older Harry, there was always "God hates the sin, not the sinner," and not about the alcohol, either.) Neither of these sayings was of any real affect and would usually elicit nothing more than a grunt or a nod from Harry before being dismissed.
For John, it was almost always this: "If your friend jumped off a bridge then would you too?" It was a well meaning set of words – John was fiercely loyal from an early age and followed his companions (sometimes Harry, sometimes buddies from school, sometimes stubborn old men who lived across the street) into all sorts of trouble – though it was more a question than anything. As a child, however, he never really answered his mother, more or less for fear of her reaction.
Somewhere along the way (perhaps in a special bundle pack with alcoholism) Harriet picked up on this, and although her sayings were more along the lines of "It's not illegal if I don't get caught" some of these more prominent questions stuck around. What she did not pick up, however, was an ability to intimidate John Watson. So when Harriet turned to him, irritation rolling off of her in waves, and asked, "If Sherlock jumped off a bridge then would you too?" John actually paused to search for a literal answer, eyebrows scrunching in thoughtful concentration.
After a moment, he responded. "Would there be water at the bottom?" he asked.
Harry's frown was both scathing and familiar. "No."
"Is there some sort of master plan Sherlock devised? Has he packed a parachute into some crevice of my body without my noticing? Some sort of obscure, perfectly timed safety net set to appear?"
"What? No."
John looked at the phone in his hand, running his thumb over the screen. Sherlock had texted him – he hadn't said so, hadn't had to; the look on his face when the phone buzzed had clued her in before he could – requesting (demanding) his presence down at Scotland Yard. John licked his lips, pocketed his phone, and gestured to the waitress before replying, decisively, "I'd still jump."
Harry curled her lip but failed to hide her smile in the process as she followed him out. By the time she made it out the door he was already gone, flinging himself into the nearest cab and taking off. Harriet Watson couldn't imagine living like that – risking it all for another person, throwing herself into the fray; it sounded like Hell to her – but she supposed her mother was right on another account. One man's trash is another man's treasure.
That, or old sayings are fucking stupid. Harry smiled at this thought and, pleased with herself, hailed herself a cab.
Reviews...100... wow... am I wrong to be shocked to have this many? I am shocked ...I would however like to have even more.