Prompt from Madam'zelleGiry - Mary Watson's adventures in the Scotland Yard Wives Club
AN: Be careful what you ask for.
Mary Watson's Adventures in the Scotland Yard Wives Club
"You really don't have to start this way, but I find it ever so much better," Margery Lestrade said as she opened her large carpet bag.
"I don't understand," Mary Watson said.
"Well, things sometimes get a little out of hand and it's always better to have a little insurance, dear," Cynthia Gregson explained, pushing back the lid.
"Yes," Loral Bradstreet agreed. "They can be a little bitey if you wake them."
"So you take a rock about this big," Margery said, showing Mary a rock about the size of a boy's fist. "Then you use the blade of your knife and lever the jaw open like this."
Mary stepped back, not knowing what to expect. Margery slipped the blade between the creature's teeth and pried downward, exposing the sharp canines. They really were quite white and gleamed in the flickering lantern light.
"Then you just jam the rock in," Margery said, and pushed the piece of stone between the jaws.
"Always a good idea to have a stone that is neither too rough nor to smooth," Belinda Hopkins said in a clinical tone.
"Why's that?" Mary asked, fascinated in spite of herself.
"Too rough and you can't get it past the teeth," Belinda explained.
"Too smooth and it might slide out at a critical point," Althea Banes finished for her.
"I see," Mary said, nodding in comprehension. "And is this when we use the stake?"
"Would you like to do it, dear?" Margery asked pleasantly as she pulled the large mallet and long wooden stake carved from hawthorn out of her bag.
"I don't know that I should," Mary demurred. "It's my first time on one of these excursions. I mean, I'm not even certain I should be included in your club."
"Nonsense, Mary!" Belinda Hopkins said, waving it away as if it were the silliest notion. "Everyone has to have their first time. I remember mine."
"Oh yes!" laughed Althea Banes. "Planted the stake in the wrong spot! We had a fight getting it back out and then trying to put it in the right place."
"I had to explain to Geoffrey how I got the bruises on my ribs," Margery Lestrade chuckled. "Never made up such a far-fetched story in all my days."
"Should we really be standing here talking like this?" Mary asked, casting a wary look at the creature.
"It's the middle of the afternoon, Mary," Loral Bradstreet told her. "This one's not old enough to be up and around before sunset. You'll get used to this sort of thing after you've got some experience."
"Go on, dear. Take them," Margery encouraged, holding out the mallet and the stake. "I'll help. Just need to have it in the right place."
"I don't know," Mary crawfished. "It just doesn't seem… proper."
"I'll grant, it's not the most ladylike thing to do," Belinda said. "But if we don't do it, who will?"
"Besides, can't let that Van Helsing fellow have all the fun," laughed Cynthia Gregson. "I'm not entirely a Suffragette, but I do think women need to play a larger part in keeping humanity safe."
"That's why we started the Scotland Yard Wives Club in the first place," put in Loral.
"But John isn't part of Scotland Yard," Mary argued.
"He might as well be," Margery said.
"And there is nothing in the bylaws that says you have to be married to a Yarder to be part of the club," Althea added in support of her friend.
Reluctantly, Mary gave in and placed the tip of the sharp stake over the heart of the creature in the coffin. She reminded herself that it was technically not alive and this could not be considered murder. Margery Lestrade adjusted the position of the stake a little and gave her an encouraging nod. Mary closed her eyes tight and slammed the mallet down on the stake, driving it between the ribs and into the heart.
"That was easier than I thought it would be," she said, blinking at the result.
"It is rather easy, dear, but you need to hit it a couple more times," Margery told her.
"Must get it all of the way through," Althea put in.
"Have to tie it back to the soil to prevent the monster from rising," Belinda Hopkins giggled. "That would never do. Remember what happened when Loral didn't get the stake deep enough?"
"That was my first time," Loral protested. "It hasn't happened again."
Mary looked about at the women's faces and then raised her mallet again. She struck with all the strength in her arm, forcing the stake deeper. Another swing drove the hard wood all the way through and the ladies all cheered.
"Quiet down!" Mrs. Hudson hissed from outside the tomb. "The watchman is prowling around. Don't want him calling the coppers, do you?"
"Sorry, Mrs. Hudson," Margery called. "Just having a bit of fun."
"Well keep it down," Mrs. Hudson hissed back. "I'll tell you when he's gone."
"You know what she needs, don't you?" Althea said with a suggestive grin.
"Another good tavern brawl," Belinda said and covered her mouth to keep from laughing.
"Last time she sent two men to hospital and nearly got us all arrested," Loral said. "I'm not going near a tavern with her."
"What do we do now?" Mary asked, still looking at the creature in the coffin.
"Oh," Margery said taking the mallet from her. "We could cut its head off, if you like."
"Not really necessary at this point," Belinda observed.
"We've got that ghost to deal with over on Highgate Avenue, too," Althea reminded everyone.
"How interesting," said Mary "A real ghost?"
"As real as they come, dear," Margery said and turned as Mrs. Hudson gave the all clear.
"You know," Mary said following them up out of the tomb. "When you invited me to join this club, I thought we would be getting together for tea parties and playing whist."
"That's what our husbands all think we do," Loral said with a snicker.
"This is ever so much more interesting," Cynthia Gregson tittered.
"Oh, I agree," Mary replied with an enthusiastic nod.
"Mary, have you ever fired a Winchester rifle?" Margery asked as they crossed through the graveyard.
"No," Mary said and cast an interested glance at her.
"Would you like to?" Margery asked with a wicked grin.
The End?