Fanfic 100 - 070, Storm
Feb. 9th, 2006 09:04 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolevalanTitle: Fracture, part 3
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, Agatha, Martha (O.C.), Sherlock Holmes
Prompt: 070, Storm
Word Count: 925
Rating: G
Summary: Part 3 of 5
Author's Notes: That crossover I mentioned? Yup. Here it is. And as always, lyrics from Bernstein/Schwartz, god bless them.
Listen...Isn't that--odd...
We can--be--so still...
So still and--numb...
How easily things get quiet.
Quiet--like a coming storm...
Air gets--sickly thick and warm...
The air had the heavy, electrified feel of a coming storm. Tobias leaned at the window, watching the people in the street hurry to their destination, trying to outrun the coming rain. It stormed so seldom here, but it would be good; a release from the humidity that had been building for days.
The maid knocked on the open door, as was the custom in his house. He turned his head, but didn’t leave the window. “Yes, Martha, what is it?”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but there’s a gentleman ‘ere to see you. Says ‘e’d like an interview, if you’ve the time, sir.”
Tobias frowned; he hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Perhaps it was a suitor for Agatha. He nodded. “Fine, Martha, show him in here. I will see him.” She curtseyed and left as he turned back to the window. He watched the sky open, people now running for shelter as dignity was sacrificed to the desire to stay dry. A bolt of lighting cut the clouds in two, the rumble of thunder following close on its heels. Glorious, for those watching from the safe shelter of a roof. With a pang, he thought of the poor devils with no shelter to run to, or with only a creaky wagon with a leaking roof. The storm was not kind to those with little luck to spare.
The knock on the door broke his reverie, and he turned fully as Martha ushered the visitor into the room. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes, sir.”
Tobias walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Mr. Holmes, this is a surprise. I’ve heard of your reputation, of course; quite marvelous work you do. Please, have a seat.”
The tall, angular man, inclined his head at the compliment, and took the chair indicated. “Mr. Ragg. Thank you for agreeing to see me, on such short notice. I originally intended merely to leave my card for a future appointment; however…” He indicated the tempest at the window. “I hope you won’t find it presumptuous that I took advantage of the situation.”
Tobias shook his head. “Not at all, Mr. Holmes. Now, how may I help you?”
Holmes steepled his fingers as he regarded Tobias for a moment. “Mr. Ragg…you are not originally of the aristocracy.”
Chuckling, Tobias said, “That’s no secret, sir, I’m afraid. ‘Ragg’ is hardly a name associated with the best of London society. Thankfully, all my daughters will loose it when they marry, so I haven’t saddled anyone with an unnecessary name.”
“Yes, but you also carry the vestiges of an accent you haven’t used for years, unless I’m very much mistaken. This is not the life to which you were raised, Mr. Ragg.”
Tobias inclined his head. “No. But it is my life now. And there’s nothing to hide about it.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Holmes produced a pipe, and expertly lit it without taking his attention from his host. “Would you care to tell me how you came from the life you knew as a child to this one?”
Now Tobias frowned. “Mr. Holmes. May I first ask what all this is about? I do not wish to be difficult, and yet…” He trailed off as he heard the door open. Both men looked around and Agatha blushed a deep rose.
“Oh… excuse me, Papa, I didn’t know you had company. I did not mean to interrupt you gentlemen; pray forgive me.” She made a move as if to withdraw.
Gently, Tobias smiled at her. “Dearest, why don’t you go and fetch the tea things. It is almost time, after all, and our guest might like to share a bit of refreshment, as the storm will likely extend his stay.” Agatha nodded, a small curious glance going to the stranger, before she turned to go.
Once she was gone, Holmes said quietly, “A client of mine is searching for his grandparents. I have reason to believe this search is tied up with your past, Mr. Ragg. I realize it may be painful, but it may be invaluable in discovering what, exactly, occurred. This would have been nearly forty years ago, I believe.”
“Just under.” Tobias stood and moved back to the window, watching the rain pour down the sheet of glass. After a moment of silence, he asked, voice even, “And why does this case interest you so much, Mr. Holmes? You are hardly one to be drawn in by a simple case of mislaid genealogy.”
“Mr. Hope was a patient of my colleague’s. It is a bit of a personal favor, though I do admit, the case has turned out to be more intriguing than I at first suspected.”
Hope… that had been the sailor’s name. The one who had been so nice and cozy with Mr. Todd. Closing his eyes, he could hear Mrs. Lovett’s voice; “That sailor, always hanging about your establishment. He’s half crazy for the girl, but he’ll get her back to you, Mr. T., mark my words. Forget about the bloody judge, the sailor’s your ticket to Johanna.”
Tobias opened his eyes and stared blankly out at the storm, the silence not seeming to disturb the waiting detective in the least. He had thought he was safe, here. A new life, where the darkness was safely tucked away and the only thought he gave to Fleet Street was in the nightmares, where he couldn’t help himself. But now…
He shook his head. Very quietly he said, “All right. But before Agatha comes back with the tea.” He turned around. “Attend the tale.”
Fandom: Sweeney Todd
Characters: Tobias, Agatha, Martha (O.C.), Sherlock Holmes
Prompt: 070, Storm
Word Count: 925
Rating: G
Summary: Part 3 of 5
Author's Notes: That crossover I mentioned? Yup. Here it is. And as always, lyrics from Bernstein/Schwartz, god bless them.
Listen...Isn't that--odd...
We can--be--so still...
So still and--numb...
How easily things get quiet.
Quiet--like a coming storm...
Air gets--sickly thick and warm...
The air had the heavy, electrified feel of a coming storm. Tobias leaned at the window, watching the people in the street hurry to their destination, trying to outrun the coming rain. It stormed so seldom here, but it would be good; a release from the humidity that had been building for days.
The maid knocked on the open door, as was the custom in his house. He turned his head, but didn’t leave the window. “Yes, Martha, what is it?”
“Begging your pardon, sir, but there’s a gentleman ‘ere to see you. Says ‘e’d like an interview, if you’ve the time, sir.”
Tobias frowned; he hadn’t been expecting any visitors. Perhaps it was a suitor for Agatha. He nodded. “Fine, Martha, show him in here. I will see him.” She curtseyed and left as he turned back to the window. He watched the sky open, people now running for shelter as dignity was sacrificed to the desire to stay dry. A bolt of lighting cut the clouds in two, the rumble of thunder following close on its heels. Glorious, for those watching from the safe shelter of a roof. With a pang, he thought of the poor devils with no shelter to run to, or with only a creaky wagon with a leaking roof. The storm was not kind to those with little luck to spare.
The knock on the door broke his reverie, and he turned fully as Martha ushered the visitor into the room. “Mr. Sherlock Holmes, sir.”
Tobias walked over to shake the man’s hand. “Mr. Holmes, this is a surprise. I’ve heard of your reputation, of course; quite marvelous work you do. Please, have a seat.”
The tall, angular man, inclined his head at the compliment, and took the chair indicated. “Mr. Ragg. Thank you for agreeing to see me, on such short notice. I originally intended merely to leave my card for a future appointment; however…” He indicated the tempest at the window. “I hope you won’t find it presumptuous that I took advantage of the situation.”
Tobias shook his head. “Not at all, Mr. Holmes. Now, how may I help you?”
Holmes steepled his fingers as he regarded Tobias for a moment. “Mr. Ragg…you are not originally of the aristocracy.”
Chuckling, Tobias said, “That’s no secret, sir, I’m afraid. ‘Ragg’ is hardly a name associated with the best of London society. Thankfully, all my daughters will loose it when they marry, so I haven’t saddled anyone with an unnecessary name.”
“Yes, but you also carry the vestiges of an accent you haven’t used for years, unless I’m very much mistaken. This is not the life to which you were raised, Mr. Ragg.”
Tobias inclined his head. “No. But it is my life now. And there’s nothing to hide about it.”
“I am glad to hear it.” Holmes produced a pipe, and expertly lit it without taking his attention from his host. “Would you care to tell me how you came from the life you knew as a child to this one?”
Now Tobias frowned. “Mr. Holmes. May I first ask what all this is about? I do not wish to be difficult, and yet…” He trailed off as he heard the door open. Both men looked around and Agatha blushed a deep rose.
“Oh… excuse me, Papa, I didn’t know you had company. I did not mean to interrupt you gentlemen; pray forgive me.” She made a move as if to withdraw.
Gently, Tobias smiled at her. “Dearest, why don’t you go and fetch the tea things. It is almost time, after all, and our guest might like to share a bit of refreshment, as the storm will likely extend his stay.” Agatha nodded, a small curious glance going to the stranger, before she turned to go.
Once she was gone, Holmes said quietly, “A client of mine is searching for his grandparents. I have reason to believe this search is tied up with your past, Mr. Ragg. I realize it may be painful, but it may be invaluable in discovering what, exactly, occurred. This would have been nearly forty years ago, I believe.”
“Just under.” Tobias stood and moved back to the window, watching the rain pour down the sheet of glass. After a moment of silence, he asked, voice even, “And why does this case interest you so much, Mr. Holmes? You are hardly one to be drawn in by a simple case of mislaid genealogy.”
“Mr. Hope was a patient of my colleague’s. It is a bit of a personal favor, though I do admit, the case has turned out to be more intriguing than I at first suspected.”
Hope… that had been the sailor’s name. The one who had been so nice and cozy with Mr. Todd. Closing his eyes, he could hear Mrs. Lovett’s voice; “That sailor, always hanging about your establishment. He’s half crazy for the girl, but he’ll get her back to you, Mr. T., mark my words. Forget about the bloody judge, the sailor’s your ticket to Johanna.”
Tobias opened his eyes and stared blankly out at the storm, the silence not seeming to disturb the waiting detective in the least. He had thought he was safe, here. A new life, where the darkness was safely tucked away and the only thought he gave to Fleet Street was in the nightmares, where he couldn’t help himself. But now…
He shook his head. Very quietly he said, “All right. But before Agatha comes back with the tea.” He turned around. “Attend the tale.”
