Work Text:
Sergeant Goodfellow has fallen asleep while sitting on a sofa. His deamon Rosie is sleeping at his feet. Tucked into his sides are his children whom he had been reading a goodnight story to. They have also fallen asleep and their deamons are sleeping on top of Rosie. Mrs. Goodfellow walks up to them silently with a gentle smile on her face. With great care she removes the book from her husband’s hand and puts it away. She returns with a blanket and tucks them all in, they can move to their beds later. With her own nightcap and book she sits down across the room.
Goodnight Goodfellow and Rosie.
Something was itching at Sid’s nose. He scratched at it, but the feeling quickly returned. He’s half asleep and therefore doesn’t have the wherewithal to identify the source of the itch. He makes another swipe for the area, but the relief is, again, short lived. With a sneeze he wakes himself up. Bleary eyes finally see the source of the itch. It’s Rita’s long and fluffy tail that has been dangling in his face from where she has been sleeping. Rita is asleep in a net above Sid’s bed tonight. With a snort Sid stuffs her tail back into the net and turns to his side to continue sleeping.
Goodnight Sid and Rita.
Inspector Mallory is very comfortable. He’s resting against his deamon, Hortensia, in bed. They are both asleep. They are probably dreaming about their next game of golf or perhaps a good dinner of shepherds’ pie with a good glass of whiskey. They are definitely not dreaming about work and especially not a case involving the Padre. Their sleep seems too peaceful for that. At least for them it’s peaceful. For anyone awake with functioning ears it’s not. Both of them are snoring, loudly. They are lucky that Mrs. Mallory and her deamon sleep like the dead.
Goodnight Mallory and Hortensia.
In the middle of a grand bed, underneath silken sheets lay Lady Felicia. Her husband Monty was not beside her. He was in London. Though even if he had been around, he would likely have slept in his own room. On the headboard hangs a small silken nest for her deamon Felix. It has been delicately made and has beads embroidered on the sides. It was empty. Felix never uses it. Instead he sleeps curled up beneath her chin. His small body touching her neck and shoulders and his whiskers gently tickling her. Lady Felicia never notices the tickling, she is used to it. They always sleep like this, curled up together.
Goodnight Felicia and Felix.