❛ I'M REACHING OUT AND I JUST CAN'T TELL YOU WHY ❜
𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 an untouchable and a self-proclaimed consulting detective band together in the most unlikely of ways
[ bbc sherlock holmes x fem!oc ]
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POPPY ROCKEFELLER WAS NO LONGER a mother-fucking untouchable, but instead Hannah Newbury — new Lancastrian girl on the block. Granted it had taken a few more attempts than she'd like to admit to perfect the Northern dialect and get the blonde wig to sit on her head just so, but other than that Poppy was absolutely thriving.
That was, thriving in the comfort of her temporary home, of course. She hadn't actually started as a waitress just yet; Mycroft had been polite enough to give Poppy a week to settle herself and blend-in to her new alias, at least. And for that, she supposed she should be a little thankful.
There were many things that Poppy had decided about Hannah Newbury as she walked around the house, talking to herself and acting out various new mannerisms. Hannah always wore skimpy clothes with a leather jacket no matter the weather, Hannah couldn't stand the sight of an injury or a dead body, and Hannah liked the thrill of a touch.
A simple touch that could send her mind into over-drive if she let it occur.
Which was why Theodore Carmichael, Poppy's 'on and off' boyfriend was wrapped up in warm bedsheets at three o'clock in the afternoon with Poppy pressed happily into his side.
The pair lay in a comfortable silence, watching the occasional bird shoot past the window through the gap in the fluttering curtains. Theo ran one hand over Poppy's shoulder, fingers tracing over the shapes and curves of her neck and collar bone, while reaching down the side of the bed to his jacket with the other.
"Don't," Poppy disturbed the quiet and a rustle of sheets cut through the air as she leant over his chest to pull his hand back up to her, "Don't. I don't want my room to smell like cigarettes while I'm trying to give it up." Then she looked up when Theo began to move his hand back down to the pocket of his jacket, "Please?"
Poppy sighed in defeat and rolled back into her pillows, slapping her hands over her face when Theo turned around to face her with both a cigarette and a lighter in hand. Without hesitance or deliberation he stuck the thin roll between his lips and cupped a hand around the end, shielding any variables from interfering with the process of lighting it.
"Get out," Poppy mumbled, removing her hands to glower at Theo who looked at her, bewildered. "Get out." Then she placed her hands on his shoulders and pushed him roughly, plucking the cigarette out of his hand. Poppy leapt out of bed and ran over to the window, out of which she threw the cigarette after pulling on her dressing gown.
Theo was stood dumbly in a hazy cloud of smoke, watching on as Poppy flapped her hands about in attempt to try and clear the air. Eventually, she spat out, "What the bloody hell was that for, Theo? You know I'm trying to give it up, and you promised you'd help me!" She was standing with a red face in the middle of the room with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "Well,"
