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Shell Bell doesn't get off the train immediately when they hit District Three. Tony has one last miserable speech to deliver, and the train will then stick around long enough for everything to be unloaded. Bell sits tight in Sherlock's compartment with the TV on, keeps her wits about her, and awaits cues from either Stark twin.
she_sells_seashells
Bell extricates herself and follows.
She catches herself looking at miscellaneous Sherlock anatomy with too much interest more than once on the way.
"Weird drugs," she mutters to herself.
She catches herself looking at miscellaneous Sherlock anatomy with too much interest more than once on the way.
"Weird drugs," she mutters to herself.
she_sells_seashells
And up the stairs they go. Bell folds her hands behind her back and attempts to follow Sherlock by looking at her feet.
she_sells_seashells
Sherlock's going to have to let them into the room, as Bell doesn't have a key. She shuffles her feet.
sicaria
Sherlock opens the door and lets her in.
It's a small room, but the amount of bed is more than sufficient.
It's a small room, but the amount of bed is more than sufficient.
she_sells_seashells
Bell sits on the edge of it, and then toes off her shoes, and then sighs and lies down, facing the wall and scrunched in towards herself.
she_sells_seashells
Bell squirms backwards to fix that. She wants cuddles, even if she's not comfortable with wanting them.
she_sells_seashells
A reserved and narrated-only yay for cuddles!
Bell closes her eyes and attempts sleep.
Bell closes her eyes and attempts sleep.
sicaria
So does Sherlock.
Sherlock succeeds.
There is not much difference, except a slight increase in snuggling.
Sherlock succeeds.
There is not much difference, except a slight increase in snuggling.
she_sells_seashells
Bell succeeds too, after a little longer - she's probably not as tired as Sherlock, who did after all recently go days without sleeping.
She hugs Sherlock's arm.
She hugs Sherlock's arm.
she_sells_seashells
Bell does wake up first.
She's still infatuated. She's still hugging Sherlock's arm like it's her very favorite stuffed animal.
Is there a clock in the room, she wonders.
She's still infatuated. She's still hugging Sherlock's arm like it's her very favorite stuffed animal.
Is there a clock in the room, she wonders.
she_sells_seashells
Bell has no idea how long she napped. She has no idea whether to start being worried about duration, worried that she still loves Sherlock and really wants to plant a kiss on the hand she's holding.
She settles back down, all asnuggle, and looks at the wall, and thinks about her thoughts. It'd be better with her recorder, but she can do some without.
She settles back down, all asnuggle, and looks at the wall, and thinks about her thoughts. It'd be better with her recorder, but she can do some without.
she_sells_seashells
"I wonder if anyone downstairs knows how long it lasts. Or Bar, she might know."