In response to a sight.

Can somebody help me find my retinas?

Last I heard, they were screaming and trying to hide under a table.

I leave it to you to determine if the sight was physically, emotionally, or mentally traumatic. – RecklessPrudence

(#00299)

She had been intending to say, “I’m no tryin’ tae escape, ye ken, but somethin’s gone wrong wi’ the air in there.”

She only got as far as, “I’m no trying’ tae–” before she realized she’d shadow-hopped at exactly the wrong time.

Sherlock was in the shower.

And now, thanks to shadow-hopping, so was she.

“AIIEEEEKK!”

“Aw fook I’m sorry!” Shayde clapped her hands over her eyes. “I didnae mean it!” A brief hop, this time to a shadow somewhere outside that very personal space. She daren’t look after seeing too much of Sherlock than she ever wanted to. 

But there was a moving shadow. The shadow of something alive and mobile.

“Anyone else around? Can somebody help me find me retinas?

Last I heard, they were screamin’ and tryin’ to hide under a table.” This failed to elicit a laugh.

Something warm and wet touched her leg. It came with whiskers and snuffling breath.

Oh. He had a pet.

“Well now I look stupid and rude…” she muttered to herself.

“Attempting to escape,” Sherlock began.

“Na. Na. The intercom’s busted and the air in me cell’s gone funny.”

“Funny.”

“It made me a we bitty loopy,” she explained, hands still over her eyes. “Probably why I couldnae ken where ye were. Speakin’ of, have ye got yer pants on, yet? This is killin’ me elbows…”

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