fandomhigh | Library, Thursday

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Library, Thursday

William still didn't understand the appeal of coffee, but the librarian enjoyed the beverage, so he set the machine brewing anyway.

Today, William was keeping himself busy comparing a couple of French textbooks, one from the States and another from Canada, noting the differences between the books themselves as well as the French he'd grown up speaking- apparently termed joual.

[ooc: THIS WAS NEVER IN THE WRONG COMM.]

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Who, despite being Canadian, did not have a poppy today, as he didn't know anything about the significance of the symbol.

Sherlock was aware of the significance, but the horror of the week took precedence.

THE HORROR.

"Where are the books on human sexuality?" he snapped, not even going for an attempt at politeness.

"Books on what?" William squeaked. Sherlock Holmes, how could you do this to a Victorian?

...Oh. Right.

That got him to pause for all of a second before disregarding it. Poor, poor William.

"Whatever is causing this recent behavior needs to be stopped," Sherlock informed him ~~sulkily~~ ~~calmly~~ sulkily.

"Recent behaviour?" William echoed with a frown. "What do you mean?" he hadn't actually noticed anything that unusual. Mostly because his classmates' typical behaviour was already quite scandalous by his standards.

"...you're not affected?" Sherlock narrowed his eyes, rounding the desk to inspect William. Because he was insane.

Well, his thoughts the past few days had occasionally wandered into the territory of contemplating how pretty Rilla's hair was, or how he'd like to take her on a walk through the park sometime, or perhaps dinner once again...

"I don't believe so. Is something going on?"

That cad.

"How is it you're unaffected?" AND HOW WAS THAT FAIR?

Raised by nuns, Sherlock. You figure it out.

"Perhaps if you'd explain..."

"If you were paying attention to your classmates--" And all the adults, shh. "--you would notice that it would seem the tendency towards allowing their genitals to think for them have taking a sharp turn into high gear."

Hey! He'd been paying attention. It's just that he was fairly certain that was already the case with most of them to begin with.

"Oh," William blushed. "Well, I hadn't really- given it much thought. There's so much that's considered acceptable here that simply... isn't... back home. I thought perhaps this was just more of the same."

"Unfortunately no."

HE HAD THE BRUISES TO PROVE THIS, WILLIAM.

"Oh dear."

Yes. That was apparently all he could think of to say to that.

"Precisely." Glad to see you've cottoned on, William. "Continue--whatever it is you're doing to not turn into a useless ball of hormones."

Being terribly repressed?

"I shall endeavour to do so," William promised.

EXACTLY.

Sherlock nodded, clearly pleased with this. Because someone here needed to be so horrible repressed to not want sex. And it was, sadly, not him at the moment.

"I will have a case for you once this--thing--is gone."

"Really?" William perked up, like the overeager puppy he kind of was. "What sort of case?"

"We'll see what I can find at the police station." Yes, still stealing cases, it would seem.

Rilla was returning some of the romance novels ~~with too much plot~~ that she'd discovered earlier in the week, and had forgotten who worked on Thursdays.

"William!" she exclaimed, hiding the books behind her back.

"Rilla!" William smiled brightly at her. And, oh, her smile was always a joy, of course, but today it did seem rather-

Oh dear.

"A pleasure to see you," he stammered out.

"And you too!" she said, blushing. "How have you been this week?"

"Oh, quite well," he managed. "Just- keeping busy. You know." That wasn't even a euphemism. "Catching up on my French," he held up a textbook.

"Oh, this book had French in it too!" Rilla blurted, holding up a romance novel with the Eiffel Tower on the cover. "It was very bad French and kept cropping up at the most annoying parts of the story."

Rilla had not realized that they were very, ahem, interesting French words.

"Really?" William asked, giving the book a curious look. "It seems strange that they'd allow terrible grammar in a literary work."

"It was a modern work," Rilla said. "Perhaps standards have gone down?"

"I find that idea not at all surprising," William admitted dryly. "As they certainly seem to in... other ways," he added, thinking back on his conversation with Sherlock.

"Indeed," Rilla sniffed. "The skirts of the cheerleading squad are positively scandalous."

"I am fairly certain if Sister Philomena back home saw how the young ladies of today dressed, she'd faint dead away in shock," William confessed. "The trousers are odd enough, but the skirts... I don't understand it at all."

"There isn't enough fabric to them to make a shift," Rilla said, scandalized. "The first day I was here, I thought one of the girls had gotten caught in the door and snagged!"

"William, hi. Do you still want to go into Special Collections?"

Henry had a high sex drive to start with. The week was having a rather embarrassing effect on him, and he needed to do something that wasn't sexy at all. Somethng that scared him shitless would do nicely.

... and it was good for the kid. Or something.

"Oh, very much so." William only just barely managed not to gush.

"Great," Henry said, with enthusiasm that was only a little bit forced. He stepped around the counter to open a drawer, pulled out protective gloves, and passed William a pair. "Wear these if you're touching anything, don't go out of my sight, and if I say we're leaving, we're leaving."

He flashed a grin. "Did that sound impressively authoritative?"

"Quite," William said solemnly, tucking the gloves in his suitjacket pocket for now. Really, it was a miracle he didn't actually bounce to his feet. "What are we waiting for, then?"

"Absolutely nothing," Henry said, and stepped to the side to let William walk in front of him through the library. "I'll even let you open the door."

Really, anything they found would probably be anticlimactic, he reflected.

[OOC: SC is yours to mod completely :-).]

They reached the door to Special Collections and William did just that... only to find a perfectly ordinary looking room.

"Somehow, I was expecting something more dramatic," William admitted, and then looked immediately mortified by his rudeness. Someone had been spending too much time with Sherlock Holmes.

Someone should also have known that appearances could be deceiving.

"It's behaving itself," Henry admitted. He seemed a bit deflated as he approached a shelf. "Anyhow, welcome to the rare books section. These out here are mostly pre-1900."

Dimly, they might hear a sound in the distance, like rushing water.

"So some of these might well be my contemporaries," William observed. Though he felt he'd adjusted quite well to this time period, the occasional reminder still took him by surprise sometimes.

"Some of them," Henry said, with faint surprise. "Probably not in quite the condition you'd find them in in a shop, but -- same books, right?"

If you're here while he's off getting saddled with a robobaby.

If he's around.

Yeah, he was around.

And remembering he'd promised William something his first week in the library. Once he stopped spending far too much time thumbing through back issues of National Geographic, he was off to the counter.

Well at least all my threads have matching punctuation now.

Oh my god I'm a total idiot today =/

I HAVE PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOF OF THE WRONG COMM. PHOTOGRAPHIC PROOOOOF.

Edited 2010-11-11 20:02 (UTC)

DO YOU *WANT* ME TO LICK YOU AGAIN, WOMAN?

DIIIIIRTY.

...and so many levels of wrong from these journals.

OH DEAR GOD. THE MENTAL IMAGES.

I think my brain just made a 'sproing' noise.

JUST BE GLAD I'M TOO LAZY TO UPLOAD THE ICON OF BENEDICT CUMBERBATCH IN DRAG.

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Library, Thursday

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Mod Your Library! [11/11]

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