Fic: That's not my pigeon: Gen
Sep. 17th, 2020 12:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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holmes_minorTitle: That's not my pigeon
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Characters: Ferret, Inky Quill, Sloth, Mouselet, Watson, Holmes
For: the monthly prompt: pigeon
Summary: Inky learns a new idiom.
“Ferret, will you lend a paw and help us clean up?” asked Mouselet.
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” Ferret replied. He skipped off.
Inky Quill quirked a spiny eyebrow but continued to brush crumbs into a pan.
---
“Tut-tut,” said Sloth, frowning at the empty ink well on his desk. “Oh, Ferret, will you go by the stationary shop and pick up another quart of red ink?”
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” Ferret replied. Then he twirled his way out of the door of the newsroom.
Inky, who happened to be passing by, paused but said nothing.
---
“Perhaps Ferret could play the part of the raccoon,” suggested Doctor Watson. “With some paint on his fur…”
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” replied Ferret. He shuffled this way and that to a song only he could hear.
Some of the group glared, some rolled their eyes, some huffed, but Inky Quill’s face fell thoughtful.
Mister Holmes coughed. “An alternative plan would be…”
---
After the meeting adjourned, Inky Quill found himself on the pavement outside 221 Baker Street with Ferret.
“Ferret, forgive me, but what is your pigeon, exactly?”
Ferret covered his eyes with his paw, looking up and down the street, then he spoke excitedly,
“There! That’s my pigeon!”
A speckled bird careened towards them carrying a heavy basket labelled,
BY DELIVERY! BEST BISCUITS!
Length: 221b
Rating: Gen
Characters: Ferret, Inky Quill, Sloth, Mouselet, Watson, Holmes
For: the monthly prompt: pigeon
Summary: Inky learns a new idiom.
“Ferret, will you lend a paw and help us clean up?” asked Mouselet.
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” Ferret replied. He skipped off.
Inky Quill quirked a spiny eyebrow but continued to brush crumbs into a pan.
---
“Tut-tut,” said Sloth, frowning at the empty ink well on his desk. “Oh, Ferret, will you go by the stationary shop and pick up another quart of red ink?”
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” Ferret replied. Then he twirled his way out of the door of the newsroom.
Inky, who happened to be passing by, paused but said nothing.
---
“Perhaps Ferret could play the part of the raccoon,” suggested Doctor Watson. “With some paint on his fur…”
“Oh, that’s not my pigeon,” replied Ferret. He shuffled this way and that to a song only he could hear.
Some of the group glared, some rolled their eyes, some huffed, but Inky Quill’s face fell thoughtful.
Mister Holmes coughed. “An alternative plan would be…”
---
After the meeting adjourned, Inky Quill found himself on the pavement outside 221 Baker Street with Ferret.
“Ferret, forgive me, but what is your pigeon, exactly?”
Ferret covered his eyes with his paw, looking up and down the street, then he spoke excitedly,
“There! That’s my pigeon!”
A speckled bird careened towards them carrying a heavy basket labelled,
BY DELIVERY! BEST BISCUITS!
no subject
Date: 2020-09-19 05:26 pm (UTC)