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English
Series:
Part 1 of you can't predict life
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Published:
2015-08-25
Words:
1,302
Chapters:
1/1
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8
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92
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One Day On Holiday

Summary:

Sherlock’s parents have forced him to go to the seaside on holiday and he hates it. But a chance encounter with someone else makes for a very interesting day.

Notes:

So my friend daisherz365 is having a bit of a rough time and I offered to write some cheer-up fic for her, and she asked forfluffy teenlock fic. I borrowed a prompt from otpprompts that stated Imagine your OTP having a staring contest, person A ends up kissing person B and after says “You blinked” before going into a full out make out session. Hopefully this will help cheer you up, sweetie! ::hugs::

Work Text:

He hadn’t wanted to go on this stupid holiday in the first place. He hated the beach, he hated the stupid people at the cottages nearby the one he and his family were staying with, he hated the lack of things to do in the area…he’d rather have stayed in London at the house by himself then be subjected to this dreadful boring place. His parents were having the time of their lives but he could feel his brains dribbling out of his ears every day he spent there.

He was walking along the cliffs, which were about the only thing that appealed to him because it gave him the chance to be alone, when he saw someone around his own age on the path farther down. Part of him wanted to find out more about the person down there, investigate them, while the other part of him wanted to turn and head back the way he’d come and avoid them. If his parents knew there was someone else his age in the area they’d try and force them to spend time together.

They were worried that he never associated with any of the teenagers in the neighborhood, that he never had any friends round from school. They wanted him to have friends but really, the people he went to school with merely tolerated him. No one actually liked him, and that was the way he preferred it. It was not to his advantage to care. If he cared, if he let them close, they could hurt him. They could use him and they could hurt him and then what would be the point? There would be no point at all.

He’d spent too much time debating whether to press on or go back, he realized dimly as the person made their way closer at a fast clip. With a sigh he moved forward, reluctantly going to meet them halfway. As he got closer he realized it was a female walking towards him. She had on Doc Martens and ripped denim trousers, a T-shirt with the name Nirvana and a trio of men on it and a red and black flannel layered over it. On top of that she had a leather jacket which she started pulling closer as a gust of wind topped the cliffs. “Hello!” she called out, giving him a wide grin.

He shrugged as she got closer. “I suppose,” he said.

“Here on holiday?” she asked when she got within a few meters of him. She had a nice face, with a kind smile and warm eyes. Bit of acne on her face, probably couldn’t help that. Brown hair that was wavy that she tried to keep out of her face by pulling it back into a ponytail, but strands kept falling out. She was short, almost a head shorter than him. She would be exactly the type of girl his parents would want him to be friends with, unfortunately.

“Unfortunately,” he said. After a moment he reached into his coat pocket and pulled out his cigarettes. He took one out and stuck it between his lips, lighting it.

“Those are bad for you,” she said. “Cancer’s the worst of it, but there’s all sorts of reasons you shouldn’t smoke.”

“I don’t need a lecture,” he said, inhaling the cigarette smoke.

“My dad said the same thing, according to my mum,” she said, turning to look out over the cliff. “He used to tell me he wish he’d listened once he got diagnosed with lung cancer.”

He gave her a side glance and then sighed, taking the cigarette from between his lips and dropping it to the ground, stomping it beneath his boot. “That was rather manipulative,” he remarked.

“But it worked,” she said. She turned to face him. “Start or end of your holiday?”

“Start of it,” he said. “I’m here for another five days. You?”

“End of it,” she said. “I go home tomorrow morning.” She shoved her hands in the pocket of her coat. “You must hate it here. I know I did.”

“How did you survive?” he asked.

“Lots of long walks,” she said with a smile. “Lots of time to myself. And lots of books.”

“What kinds of things do you read?” he asked. He didn’t really care, expecting to hear her stream off some popular novels or even worse, some tacky romance novels.

“I’m studying medical journals at the moment,” she said. “I was reading a very interesting article about testicular cancer this morning and a new test that can be run.”

His eyes widened. That was honestly a surprise. “Ah. My preferences run more towards science. Specifically chemistry and biology.”

“We could have some fascinating conversations, I think,” she said with a grin. “We could start now, if you don’t have any other plans.”

He considered things, tilting his head back and forth. “I suppose there are worse ways I could spend my time,” he said. He nodded towards the trail. “Shall we?”

She nodded. “Let’s go.” She turned and they began to walk, moving almost in step, talking about the sciences and the human body. Soon it came to talking about school and their home life, and before he realized it it was starting to get dark. They’d stopped at a vendor in the village to get fish and chips and were sitting on a bench, licking the malt vinegar off their fingers. “You know, I bet I can beat you in a staring contest.”

He snorted a laugh, shaking his head. “I can go quite a long time without blinking.”

“Still, I bet you I can beat you.” She gave him a grin. “You game?”

“Why not?” he said with a shrug, turning to face her. He looked at her, willing himself not to stare, looking at her. In a certain way, she was rather attractive. Pretty enough, he supposed. He leaned forward slightly, and then she leaned forward more.

Finally she leaned forward enough to close the gap between them and pressed her lips against his. He was surprised and pulled away. “You blinked,” she said with a smile.

He looked at her for a moment, his brain having seemed to have short-circuited for a second, and then he leaned forward and kissed her again. This was a bit more involved than just a simple pressing of lips against each other. He reached over and pulled her closer to him, not caring that they were sitting on a park bench and there were people milling about. He didn’t care that this was not something he would normally do. At this moment, in this place, this is what he wanted to do.

It was the disapproving tut of a woman nearby that drove the two of them apart. He glared at the old biddy while his partner blushed. She looked down at her wrist and then her eyes got wide. “Oh, bloody hell, my mum is going to kill me!” she said, getting off the bench. “I was supposed to be back at the cottage a half hour ago.” She moved away from the bench, stopped for a moment, then came back and gave him one last snog. “Today was a really good day,” she said with a grin as she looked down at him.”

“Yeah, it was,” he said.

She pulled away and then turned, giving him a wave. “It was nice meeting you!” she called over her shoulder.

“What’s your name?” he called towards her.

She turned to face him, walking backwards. “Margaret!" She gave him a wide grin. “Maybe we’ll see each other again,” she said before turning around and walking away. He watched her leave and then leaned back into the bench. One day, perhaps, he’d see her again. At least, he hoped so.

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