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holmes_minor2018-08-27 10:38 pm
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote in holmes_minor2018-08-27 10:38 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: From the Toasting Fork to the Wreath
Title: From the toasting fork to the wreath
Length: 200
Rating: Gen
Notes: Watson, Mrs. Hudson, implied Holmes/Watson
Summary: Watson is distracted.
Author's Note: For the monthly prompt: small moments of happiness
“Good morning, Doctor Watson. Are you feeling yourself today?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that yesterday you were rather distracted.”
“Oh, yes, well, yesterday was a day, wasn’t it? Holmes was in a singular mood, too.”
“Indeed, but he did not send a toasting fork to the family of the late Doctor Matthews and a wreath of chrysanthemums to Mister Smith and his lovely new bride.”
“Good heavens! Did I do that?”
“Yes, Mister Holmes discovered your error and rectified it before any harm was done, but he did have his fun in telling me the story afterwards.”
“I bet he did! Why I feel quite a fool!”
“Enjoy the small moments of happiness, Doctor, however distracting.”
“Now why do you say that, Mrs. Hudson?”
“Because, as you well know, the days between the toasting fork and wreath are few.”
And with that, she left.
And I was left with a singular reminder, not of the ephemeral nature of life, nor of the heady elixir that is newly-confessed love, but of the fact that the most observant person at 221 Baker Street was not its tenant, the world famous detective, but rather its noble proprietress.
Length: 200
Rating: Gen
Notes: Watson, Mrs. Hudson, implied Holmes/Watson
Summary: Watson is distracted.
Author's Note: For the monthly prompt: small moments of happiness
“Good morning, Doctor Watson. Are you feeling yourself today?”
“Yes, Mrs. Hudson. Why do you ask?”
“Well, it’s just that yesterday you were rather distracted.”
“Oh, yes, well, yesterday was a day, wasn’t it? Holmes was in a singular mood, too.”
“Indeed, but he did not send a toasting fork to the family of the late Doctor Matthews and a wreath of chrysanthemums to Mister Smith and his lovely new bride.”
“Good heavens! Did I do that?”
“Yes, Mister Holmes discovered your error and rectified it before any harm was done, but he did have his fun in telling me the story afterwards.”
“I bet he did! Why I feel quite a fool!”
“Enjoy the small moments of happiness, Doctor, however distracting.”
“Now why do you say that, Mrs. Hudson?”
“Because, as you well know, the days between the toasting fork and wreath are few.”
And with that, she left.
And I was left with a singular reminder, not of the ephemeral nature of life, nor of the heady elixir that is newly-confessed love, but of the fact that the most observant person at 221 Baker Street was not its tenant, the world famous detective, but rather its noble proprietress.
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