#which is still fitting though because the shuttle and sherlock holmes happen concurrently!

[jessicas-pi]

For the au ask game! Sabezra in a *flips through my au ideas list* private detectives au

so. yeah. this. this is egregiously late. But it's HERE! At long last!

....to be entirely honest I don't even know what this is. it's sabezra. they're private detectives. let's just leave it at that.

---

"Ezra, what are you doing?"

Her partner in preventing crime (and occasional partner in actual crime---they may or may not have broken into a house once; no one could prove anything) had stopped in the middle of the grim alleyway, staring at nothing in particular.

"Sabine..." he said slowly. "I think this is where I met you."

Sabine did a double-take, looking around with keen eyes. The place didn't seem familiar, but she'd been so distracted on that day, she probably wouldn't know it if she was there.

"Is it?" she asked, strolling back to him, hiking up her long skirt and stepping cautiously around the filth on the ground. "You think so?"

"Mm-hm." A nostalgic smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "You know, I've still got the handkerchief you gave me."

Sabine grinned at him. "Of course you do. You were in the throes of violent yearning. You couldn't bear to part with it."

"And my nose was still bleeding."

"That too."

"And if you recall, I did try to give it back to you---later." His smile grew proud. "Tracked you down with just your monogram and a glimpse at your face. First bit of detecting I ever did."

Sabine slipped her arm through his, hopping lightly over something that could have been a filthy rag or maybe the carcass of a large rat, as they continued on their trek towards home. The streets cleared up when they got to the main roads, but there was still the inevitable splash of mud.

Mud was everywhere in London.

"I thought you might have been a princess when I saw you on the stairs then," he blurted out, and she tilted her head up to look at him from beneath the brim of her large flowered hat. He gave her a sweetly bashful smile and a shrug. "With those big white puffs in your hair---"

"Ostrich feathers," she filled in automatically, turning her attention back to the pavement and nodding politely to a gentleman and lady who passed by them.

"---and that white dress, too." Ezra laughed to himself. "Golly, you're lucky you kept it. Your old lady wasn't gonna give you a nickel for another one."

Sabine squeezed his arm affectionately. "I could have worn any dress."

"Well, no one would have thought it was a proper wedding if we hadn't got you in white."

"No one thought it was a proper wedding when we did," she retorted. "They thought I was degrading myself."

"Then the joke is on them, because I hit the big time pretty well, didn't I?"

Sabine arched an eyebrow. "You wouldn't have amounted to anything if I hadn't got us into the illustrated papers."

Ezra paused on the pavement as they reached the steps of their lodgings, looking thoughtful.

"You're right. I wouldn't have."

"Then it seems you're lucky you've got me."

He looked right into her eyes and grinned boyishly, slipping into his most intolerably trans-Atlantic accent. "We do make a pretty bang-up team, don't we?"

"A jolly good one," she nodded in prim agreement, adopting an obnoxiously posh tone, and they both giggled, smiling at each other for a moment more before a distant clock chimed the quarter of the hour, reminding them that they were on a schedule.

"Well, I suppose we had best go on in. Our client will be here any minute now."

"I guess so."

And with that, the unstoppable team of Bridger and Bridger ascended the steps of their home at 221b Spectre Street, arm-in-arm.