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Sherlock lay on his back, eyes closed, breathing deeply, feeling the sunshine.
He could hear the sound of water lapping. The low moan of ship's horns in the middle distance. The buzzing of a solar skiff skipping swiftly across the water.
Beneath him, the dark painted metal of the Hound radiated heat it had captured from the sun, transformed into infrared, soaking deliciously into his bones. England's brief spring had come, with its warm days and soft velvet nights, presage to the unrelenting heat and monsoon rains of summer.
Above, the snap of their main energy-capture sail as it fluttered on its mast. The wind scudding across the river Thames set the canvas to flicker and their several mini turbines to spin, recharging the Hound's batteries in preparation for the afternoon's appointed tasks.
Sherlock heard footsteps padding on the ground below him. A fond smile curled the corner of his lip. Soon he heard the sounds of hands and feet on a ladder. He put his hands beneath his head, smoothed out the expression on his face, and opened his eyes.
"Report, Flight Captain?"
A warm, muscular body landed heavily on top of Sherlock. He whuffed in surprise, then put his arms around John Watson, lazily stroking that short hair. Still feeling surprise and elation at the sensation. At the freedom he now held to bridge that distance.
"Did you acquire the needed supplies?"
"Yes, 'course." John rolled off of him. Sherlock made a huff of disappointment.
John snapped a cloth out, laying beside Sherlock atop the back of their Leviathan. Then he began unpacking the hamper he'd hauled up along side him.
"Lunch is served, m'lord."
"Piffle. Pass those boiled eggs."
From where they sat, nestled against the neck of their power armor, teasing each other and snacking, they could see barges bringing materials to the nearby plant. Stacks puffed out steam, heading skyward, circled by gulls, terns and the occasional cloud of burbling songbirds.
Behind them, in a wetland depression fed by the braided, re-wilded streams of the peninsula, frogs proudly croaked, pronouncing their sovereignty over Frog Island. The landfill a short run down the Thames from the city center, recycling center and waste-fuel site of Old London, had become the launching pad of New London's revival.
"When are we due to take the next shipment of tungsten upriver?"
"It should be ready by half 2."
John reached out and pulled, Sherlock against him, absently kissing his ear. Sherlock hummed happily.
"And you're feeling good about this turn in your career? From only consulting mech engineer in the world, to solar panel tech?"
"It's hardly just solar panels, John. The fabrications we've made using nano-wire are highly adaptable. They can do everything from power this Ghast to running community water desalination units. The applications are endless, and the materials are highly recycble. We can attain a sustainable yield power harvest annually that will be more than adequate to the worlds new population, and in the current lull of Leviathan population caused by the cataclysm in Somerset, we've been given a window of time to find ways to create a world where we can fully reject the power sources that draw the creatures to us."
"And if everyone abides by the new treaties signed, banning human tampering with Leviathan spawn, we can maybe avoid running full tilt into the arms of another meglomaniac-directed Final Collapse."
Sherlock rubbed his cheek against John's. "That is the hope." He smiled up at his partner. "But what about you? You've trained most of your life to defend humanity against the Leviathan. What will you do in a world where we are trying to find a balance with them? And you've been demoted to barge captain and bin man."
John pushed an errant curl out of Sherlock's face. The look in his eyes was warm, full of laughter and affection.
"I'll count myself proud - and the luckiest bastard in the world - to be alive, gathering litter by your side."
Settling together, they watched another great ship arrive, loaded to the gills with refuse and trash: straw to be spun into the gold of a new lease on living for humanity, and the world.
And that's a wrap! Sherlock and John get to help rebuild, and find ways to retool their weapons into ploughshares for a better way of being. Countless thanks to you @calaisreno for another great year of prompts and fic and community fun. This has been a delight and I hope folks reading enjoyed!!!
I'll get this up on AO3 after the scheduled downtime is over, and post in the next few days, hopefully. If anyone's interested in doing a beta-read please do let me know. <3
@gregorovitch-adler @friday411 @meetinginsamarra @raina-at @weeesi @peanitbear @totallysilvergirl @marta-bee @chinike @kettykika78 @221beloved @lisbeth-kk @solarmomma-plantsareneat @naefelldaurk @ghostofnuggetspast @stellacartography @unmarkedinlife
