Fic: Mrs. Hudson’s Face Lights Up: G
Oct. 21st, 2018 10:06 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
scfrankles posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_minorTitle: Mrs. Hudson's Face Lights Up
Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: Watson, Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Turner
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: N/A
Author’s Notes: Written for the Oct 2018 prompt: Mischief
Hallowe’en!
Watson looked down from his bedroom window and smiled at the view. It seemed Mrs. Hudson had indeed allowed her young housemaid to make a turnip lantern, because there it hung from the plane tree. With the candle already lit and light streaming out through that macabre face so expertly carv—
“Oh, dear God!”
Watson shot down the stairs, only distantly registering the “Everything all right, dear fellow...?” as he passed 221B’s sitting room door. He reached the back door, hurled it open and dashed for the plane tree. Where he finally came to a halt, staring up in dismay.
There was the sound of running, and he turned to see Holmes arriving on the scene.
“Watson! What on earth is the matter?”
Watson flung out one arm and silently pointed up at the lantern.
Holmes looked bewildered for a moment, but then his expression cleared.
“Oh! It’s Mrs. Hudson!”
He shook his head and chuckled.
“That is astonishing. It’s our esteemed landlady to the life! Or rather death—there’s just that subtle touch of gruesomeness around the eyes. Wonderful piece of art from young Bessie. Great-uncle Horace himself couldn’t have done better!”
He regarded Watson worriedly.
“I… don’t quite understand why you’re so upset, old boy. It’s just Bessie being a little cheeky. And you’ve really got to admire the child’s talent.”
“But that’s the thing!”
Watson quivered.
“Is Mrs. Hudson truly going to believe that a fourteen year old made that?”
He pointed an accusatory finger at Holmes.
“You’re the one who’s always going on about ‘art in the blood’, and ‘Great-uncle Vernet’ this and ‘Great-uncle Vernet’ that. Mrs. Hudson is going to think you’re behind it!”
Watson hesitated.
“And you know what she said would happen if there was another… incident.”
Holmes’ eyes glazed over. “Oh, dear God.”
Watson nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”
“We’ll have to get rid of it.” Holmes reached up and pulled the lantern off its branch. “We can take it upstairs!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Watson moaned.
“The woman cleans our rooms—she’ll easily find it.”
Holmes looked about wildly. “Let’s go over the wall into the Monaghans’ garden then and bury the lantern there!”
Watson smiled. “Now that’s a sensible idea, Holmes!”
The two of them sped together towards the far wall.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Turner paused over her cup of tea, and stared out of the window.
Mrs. Hudson raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right…?”
“I suppose.” Mrs. Turner frowned. “It must be the night putting ideas into my head, but just for a moment I thought I saw— Well… your disembodied head flying up the garden.”
Mrs. Hudson raised the other eyebrow to join the first, and stood to go and look out of the window herself. Her eyes narrowed as she watched two familiar forms disappearing into the darkness, the taller of them clutching a turnip lantern.
She sighed, and reclaimed her seat.
“It does have to be said, Mrs. Turner… All kinds of strange things happen on Hallowe’en.”
Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: Watson, Holmes, Mrs. Hudson, Mrs. Turner
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: N/A
Author’s Notes: Written for the Oct 2018 prompt: Mischief
Hallowe’en!
Watson looked down from his bedroom window and smiled at the view. It seemed Mrs. Hudson had indeed allowed her young housemaid to make a turnip lantern, because there it hung from the plane tree. With the candle already lit and light streaming out through that macabre face so expertly carv—
“Oh, dear God!”
Watson shot down the stairs, only distantly registering the “Everything all right, dear fellow...?” as he passed 221B’s sitting room door. He reached the back door, hurled it open and dashed for the plane tree. Where he finally came to a halt, staring up in dismay.
There was the sound of running, and he turned to see Holmes arriving on the scene.
“Watson! What on earth is the matter?”
Watson flung out one arm and silently pointed up at the lantern.
Holmes looked bewildered for a moment, but then his expression cleared.
“Oh! It’s Mrs. Hudson!”
He shook his head and chuckled.
“That is astonishing. It’s our esteemed landlady to the life! Or rather death—there’s just that subtle touch of gruesomeness around the eyes. Wonderful piece of art from young Bessie. Great-uncle Horace himself couldn’t have done better!”
He regarded Watson worriedly.
“I… don’t quite understand why you’re so upset, old boy. It’s just Bessie being a little cheeky. And you’ve really got to admire the child’s talent.”
“But that’s the thing!”
Watson quivered.
“Is Mrs. Hudson truly going to believe that a fourteen year old made that?”
He pointed an accusatory finger at Holmes.
“You’re the one who’s always going on about ‘art in the blood’, and ‘Great-uncle Vernet’ this and ‘Great-uncle Vernet’ that. Mrs. Hudson is going to think you’re behind it!”
Watson hesitated.
“And you know what she said would happen if there was another… incident.”
Holmes’ eyes glazed over. “Oh, dear God.”
Watson nodded vigorously. “Exactly.”
“We’ll have to get rid of it.” Holmes reached up and pulled the lantern off its branch. “We can take it upstairs!”
“Don’t be ridiculous!”
Watson moaned.
“The woman cleans our rooms—she’ll easily find it.”
Holmes looked about wildly. “Let’s go over the wall into the Monaghans’ garden then and bury the lantern there!”
Watson smiled. “Now that’s a sensible idea, Holmes!”
The two of them sped together towards the far wall.
In the kitchen, Mrs. Turner paused over her cup of tea, and stared out of the window.
Mrs. Hudson raised an eyebrow. “Everything all right…?”
“I suppose.” Mrs. Turner frowned. “It must be the night putting ideas into my head, but just for a moment I thought I saw— Well… your disembodied head flying up the garden.”
Mrs. Hudson raised the other eyebrow to join the first, and stood to go and look out of the window herself. Her eyes narrowed as she watched two familiar forms disappearing into the darkness, the taller of them clutching a turnip lantern.
She sighed, and reclaimed her seat.
“It does have to be said, Mrs. Turner… All kinds of strange things happen on Hallowe’en.”
no subject
Date: 2018-10-21 09:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-10-24 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-10-22 07:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-10-24 10:46 pm (UTC)