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Masquerade (Sherlock BBC fic - Sally Donovan/OMC, Donovan/Anderson - Teen)
shirley's just looking for a jukebox, biggest heart around, community: shirley
Hi, everybody!

I've been wanting to write Sally Donovan fic since I first saw Sherlock, but couldn't find the right story to tell. Because I think she's fascinating - as I said in an email to my lovely beta, "One of the only complaints I have about the series that's lasted through all the rewatchings is how spectacularly it fails at female characters. Donovan in particular is such a failure because the potential is so great - why bother creating a kickass female detective who sees through Sherlock if you're going to limit her actions to huffing disgustedly and being shamed for her sexual activity (which Anderson, the ACTUAL adulterer, is not)? That really pissed me off."

And then along came my photo for this year's picfor1000 challenge, and I realized I could use it to tell part of her story.

Thanks to kate_lear for her sharp eye. Hopefully more will come later. (Also, it's clear from the story, but Vee is my OFC, Lestrade's wife. I still need to write the story of her and John bonding and Sherlock being a brat about it.)


"Fancy another?" she asks, getting up from Colin's nice warm lap. His hand comes up automatically to cover her arse and oh, that's delicious, the size and strength of him. Deep down, she knows too that she likes the possessiveness that the gesture implies, because she knows, and she knows he knows, that it works both ways. If his hand on her bum means back off to all the other blokes in the pub, it also means don't bother to all the girls twining their curls around their fingers and giving Colin the eye.

He tugs her back down and kisses her like he's been starving for her. "Don't get up," he says, voice rough. "Not when I've got you where I want you."

"You're a sweet talker, no mistake," she says, and bites at his jaw.


"Sal!" he says, and he has the gall to sound shocked.

"What?" she asks, unwilling to call him by his pet name, to let them be Sal-and-Col. Not now, not like this. Not after what he said.

He gapes at her for a moment, rhythm evidently thrown off. "I thought - I thought you'd be happy," he says, clearly floundering.

"To stay home and mind the flat and cook your suppers, while you're off being a barrister?" She doesn't let herself look at the shine of the diamond she can still see out of the corner of her eye. "Would you be, if I said I'd go out into the wide world, thanks, but you could just do the shopping and cleaning?"

He's shaking his head like she's misunderstood his words. "Listen," he starts to say, then interrupts himself to haul her close and kiss her. It's beyond tempting to just melt into him. She does love him, and he knows it because she's never bothered to hide it. But if he's kissing her, it's because he can't find the words, and that means she didn't get it wrong. That he could know her for so long and still be so fundamentally mistaken in her makes her shiver, and she gathers the strength to push him away.

"No," she says, because she's worked too hard to throw it all away on someone who thought she only had a hobby.


Detective Sergeant Donovan is her name now. She's built a whole life for herself, something sturdy, not a house of cards liable to tumble down at the first disturbance. She can clear some space in it for a man who'll look at her and love her and understand that she'd no more give up her job, the rush and the rightness of it, than she would appear on Strictly Come Dancing in nothing but silver spangles.

But the men she finds don't seem to want a girl like her. They want the quiet kind, who'll do the washing up without question and look properly grateful when she's taken out for the night. There are exceptions, but the good ones, Greg and Toby, pay her the compliment of seeing a copper and not a bird when they look at her, as if it had never crossed their minds that she might be different from the blokes she shares rank with. Greg's married, anyway, and she likes Vee, who's clearly all the woman Greg can handle.

Her pillowcase smells like smoke from a late night with the lads in a beer garden after cracking the Hammersmith case. She hasn't bothered to flip the calendar by her front door to the proper month, but she does like the picture for July: a single red balloon, drifting through a sky streaked by feathery clouds.


Ted Anderson's got a habit of bringing her his findings even before she can ring him up to demand them. On one occasion, that's been enough to catch the murderer in time before he jetted off to somewhere exotic and extradition-free.

He kisses her when she thanks him. The next day, she kisses him back.

He sits next to her at the briefings, closer than Toby or Greg on her other side. She'll look up from the files to see him watching her, intrigued by the attention she pays to the work. Here's one man who'll never expect her to give all this up, she thinks, and shoots him a smile.


Ted doesn't wear a ring; she thinks, later, it must be because it would be too easy to lose at a crime scene, poking about as he does. She finds out from Toby mentioning, with a glance at her that is anything but casual, Kelly Anderson, a catalogue model who's been pushing to move to America.

She reels a bit, but keeps her face hard and her shoulders squared. She's got some thinking to do.

It's not love. And it's not that she might as well go on as she's started. It's not even that he's a habit she can't break. It's just that he's there, in that space she carved out and kept sacred, and he never asks for what she won't give.

It's not as if she's the one with a wife.


It shouldn't have taken this long to realise that getting what she wanted didn't guarantee a happy ending. Or that the fairy tales she sneered at but had still ended up living by stopped short of the prince's unmasking. Were there stories about good men who weren't princes, just ordinary blokes living their lives?

She makes it quick. He doesn't let her make it painless.

They're standing in a clump at the end of the hall, Greg and Toby and John, acting like they've no idea that she's broken it off, and she sees red for a moment; she's nowhere near ready to celebrate her freedom.

Sal, says Greg, first round's on you, right? So it's not freedom they'll be toasting to after all. It's fellowship, pulling together in work worth doing.

Stories of good women need telling too. This is the start of hers.

As always, I'd love to hear what you think.

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Eeeee! I still love this so much, especially that last line! Just glorious. You're right - the BBC did fail quite spectacularly at female characters, & even the attitudes of the boys towards them. I'm thinking of John, in that first episode, treating Mrs Hudson like a servant - putting his feet up & ordering a cup of tea & a biscuit. *cough* It may have caused me to bellow, 'NO! Wrong!' at the TV in a slightly Sherlockian fashion.

I so hope we see more of Sally in the next series, & that she'll be a bit more 3-D than she was in this one.

Now seems an appropriate time to use this piece of LJ code that I've just learned:

♥ !

Hey there! I got swept up in my remix and spent the weekend on that, so this only got done today. Thanks again for all of your advice and encouragement.

Here's hoping we get some awesome Sally come autumn!

And I need to chat through that casestory fic with you at some point - after Valentine's or after I get this remix drafted. eeeeeeeeee, fic!

I love this; Sally needs more fic! I really enjoy how you portrayed her here and hope maybe there's more one day!

Yay, thank you! I totally agree that there should be lots of Sally fic - I've been trying to write her into my more John-and-Sherlock-centric pieces, but she deserves a spotlight of her own!

There's a tendency to portray her as solely a harridan, or solely a mean spirited person rather than a layered, nuanced character. I really like this fic because she IS human, IS layered. :)

Agreed, absolutely - my big fear with this story was that it would feel less like a fic and more like a bit of propaganda. I'm glad it worked for you!

Nah, not propaganda at all. .. Though it would be a bit funny to see the female characters issuing statements attesting to their humanity and value as characters or people, dropping them off at NSY and 221b to remind the men that they exist as entities other than sexual or things to react to the males...

Sorry, I think my women's studies classes are showing lol.

There isn't enough Sally Donovan fic in the world and this was much appreciated, I really like some of the lines you used like the end and the one you used for your cut/link.

Thank you so much! I want everyone to write Sally fic!

Stories of good women need telling too. This is the start of hers.
Yes! She didn't get anything like a proper story on Sherlock, so she's overdue for one!

Sally must be good, or she wouldn't have got where she is. Anderson's a mistake, but she can learn from it and move on.

That's my feeling about her exactly - she's earned her place, even with some mistakes along the way.


Oh, and I meant to add: I want to see your story about Vee and John bonding!

I would also like more good Sally fic (while I'm placing orders ;-) ).

Ha! I'm writing my fic for sherlock_remix now, and after that it's likely to be my fic for casestory, but I will not forget the Vee-and-John funtimes or the Sally-kicking-ass fics!

Hell yes, Sally. Sing it, sista. Nice work.

Gorgeous! It's about time we had some fantastic Sally fic! (Love the way you depict her relationship with Lestrade, BTW...)

Well done, you.

Sally and Lestrade could be so awesome together - get on that, BBC! And I'm glad you think this belongs with the other fantastic Sally fics this fandom has produced - thank you!

Aw. Great job. I do hope the series does more with this character.

Thank you so much! (And yes, me too!)

so true that there needs to be more of Sally - I liked this a lot, especially the ending. hope that it is just the start...

I want there to be so much Sally fic - and lots more of Sally on screen! Thanks!

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