Glass: Reader Requests

Common Room III

Slight change of plans 👀 there will be a fourth and final part. I'm so sorry, that's what I get for thinking I can develop the story as I write!

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Sherlock drove them into a small car park on the land of a Bed and Breakfast. The tyres crunched over gravel as he slowed to a bumpy stop, staring at the building through the window.

"The Yellow Pages failed to mention it was a complete dump," he said.

Margaux laughed and climbed out, drawing in deep breaths of clean country air and looking around at the hills and mountains surrounding them. The cold winter morning was still dark, the sun only just beginning to creep over the horizon. The ground was laden with frost and dew as the glow from a nearby lamppost shone through the misty fog.

She grabbed her bag from the backseat and slung it over her shoulder before walking around the car to join him at his side.

"You know," she began as she looked up at the quiet, eery building. "I have an assignment due on the 6th of January that I haven't even started. Yet for some reason, I'm in Northumberland, about to walk into Bates Motel..."

"How many words?"

"3000."

"Eh, that'll take you what? Half a day?"

She glared at him, following him reluctantly inside.

An older woman was sat behind the desk in the small reception room, yawning and resting her chin on her fist as she flicked through a magazine.

She glanced up at them with a sleepy smile "G'morning. Do you have a booking?"

"Yes, it should be under Holmes," said Sherlock.

"First name?"

"Mycroft."

Margaux looked up at him, sharing a smirk that went unnoticed by the woman.

"Great. You're in room 5." She slid a key across the desk. "So what's brought you two up this way?"

There was a momentary pause. But before Sherlock could answer, Margaux took his arm, leaning against him with a smile.

"We eloped," she said.

He glanced down at her from the corner of his eye, brow raised in confusion.

"Eloped?" the woman said.

"Mhm," she continued. "It was a spur of the moment decision, wasn't it... Babe? But we did get a Christmas Day discount at the registry office."

Sherlock dropped his head to stop himself from laughing before immediately adorning a serious, almost lovesick expression.

"Wow. I would never've guessed. You both look so... young."

"We are," said Margaux. "But look at that face, how could anyone resist that face?" She reached up to him, squeezing his cheeks between her finger and thumb.

"Well, I can't say we get many honeymooners up these ways." She gestured to their rundown surroundings, the sad, dehydrated Christmas tree in the corner, the dusty tinsel lining the dated wallpaper. "But congratulations and enjoy your stay."