My Trips are Weird - Sequel to MCIW (Lots of Fandoms crossover)

Short Bags

 Another update! Because I felt nice :)

I hoped and prayed, for no apparent reason, that some people's bags were bigger than mine. I was one of those unnecessary things I panicked about all the time. Was my bag too big? Was I wearing the wrong shoes? Did I bring enough food to share? Was my backpack durable enough? Did I . . .

"I wonder if I packed enough socks." John mused as he picked his bag up out of the boot before letting it fall ungracefully to the pavement. It landed upside down with a painful and muffled thud!

 "I was just thinking that actually." I said preparing to get my own bag out, "It’s because I mentioned socks earlier and now I'm worrying about them."

 I tried to lean into the boot to reach my bag, but the combined height of the Land Rover, the fact my bag has slid further into the car during the journey and me being on the short side height wise - made it so my fingers just scratched at the handle. I flopped my hand down and groaned. The problem with the boot of the Land Rover was that the door was in two sections, the top part opened first and then you were meant to open the bottom section to create a sort of platform - thus making it easy to slide bags and such in and out of the boot. But Sherlock’s mum had wondered off in search of Mycroft and left us three to unload our bags and she'd forgotten to unlock the bottom section of the boot door. Sherlock and John - being taller, we're able to stand on their tiptoes, lean over the door and grab their bags . . . I wasn't tall enough to do that. Well, not gracefully anyway. I could probably do a kind of belly flop over the door but I really didn’t want to do that . . .

 John sniggered playfully at my despair, "Would it be inconsiderate to call you 'Small Fry'?"

 I leant on my arms against the door and tried to conceal my laughter, "Yes it would be inconsiderate."

 "Why do you worry about socks?" Sherlock mused - making no effort to help in any way, "I mean, what a stupid thing to worry about." he paused then pulled a face of disbelief, "In fact, why the heck do people worry? It’s just a tiresome way in which people use their minds for all the wrong reasons. So much more effort could be put into things if people just-,"

 "Oi! Mr Bobble-brain, can you help me please?" I interrupted his rumblings, pushing up my jumper sleeves which had fallen out from under my coat and over my wrists again.

 Sherlock frowned as if wondering what I was asking of him then realised I still hadn't managed to retrieve my bag.

 He scrambled against the boot, finding a footing and pulled himself up so that he was able to lean over into the car and grab my bag, dragging it towards the door.

 He jumped back down signalling he had done his part of the job, "You can reach it now."

 "How chivalrous of you." I rolled my eyes before grabbing the bag and hauling it out of the boot and onto the pavement with a little more grace then John had.

 "Done?" John asked before slamming the boot shut.

 "Next time Sherlock, make sure your mum unlocks the whole boot. Small Fry here has trouble retrieving her belongings from places of average height." John said as we walked over to where the coach was parked across the road in the school grounds.

 I kicked his carry all which conveniently had little suitcase wheels that he could drag it along on. My kick tipped it over again.

 He turned to look at me with a face of dramatic shock, "How very dare you!"

 "How very dare I, indeed. It's impressive the inconveniences us Small Fry’s can cause when you average people take the mickey." I lifted my chin and walked past him, doing my best defiant stalk.