Fic: Waiting out the Storm: Gen
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holmes_minorTitle: Waiting out the storm
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: for the monthly prompt: wait
Summary: Watson finds a warm café to wait out the winter storm.
Life and death wait on nothing so temporal as the weather, but not so their humble attendant. My rounds on patients were taking twice the usual time because I had to skirt and circumvent the numerous drifts on the ground and battle through the clouds of flurries twirling about in the wind.
Finally, the last on my list, the Finnegan family, had been attended, and I was headed home.
My usual route, with its many detours and blockades, proving too frustratingly slow so I ducked down a side street that promised a smoother journey.
But there I was much mistaken.
The heel of my boot slipped on a patch of ice, and I found myself on my back, sinking deep into snowy grave while the falling flakes were like many handfuls of dirt being dropped upon me.
Rest in peace, Doctor Watson.
I crawled out, guided by the beacon of warm light issuing from a shop window I hadn’t seen before.
I blinked, scarcely believing my eyes.
It was a tea shop.
It was open and, going by my admittedly impaired gaze, doing a bustling business.
I got to my feet and brushed myself off and made for the light as fast as my frozen limbs would carry me.
Inside, it was blissfully warm and not just because of the cosy fire.
“Come in, love!” cried a pink-faced lady behind the counter. “Strong coffee and a thick slice of my Christmas cake?”
It sounded like heaven, and I said as much.
I sank into a chair and sighed.
A steaming cup soon appeared before me.
The coffee was fortified with brandy and soon so was I.
Then the cake arrived. It was marvelous.
I made a note that before I departed I must buy another slice to carry home to Holmes, who had a penchant for such things.
I ate and drank, and once thawed, I had the wherewithal to look about me.
Couples, mothers with children, even a few of my own ilk, Bohemian bachelors, were seated at tables. Everyone was enjoying hot drinks and sweet confections and chatting amicably.
What fortune to have found this place, I thought, deciding at once that I would stay as long as permitted.
It was the perfect place to wait out a winter storm.
I finished the coffee and cake and was, I confess, feeling the strong grip of sleep curl about me.
But just as I was about to nod off, the door to the shop burst open and a harsh wind came barreling in.
The wind had a voice, the voice of Sherlock Holmes.
---
“Watson! Oh, God, finally, I’ve found you. And you’re alive! Barely, but yes! When you didn’t come home, I got worried. I’ve been looking in every snow drift from here to the Finnegans for you.”
I tried to open my eyes to no avail.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Death will have to wait once more for the company of Doctor Watson. I need you more.”
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: for the monthly prompt: wait
Summary: Watson finds a warm café to wait out the winter storm.
Life and death wait on nothing so temporal as the weather, but not so their humble attendant. My rounds on patients were taking twice the usual time because I had to skirt and circumvent the numerous drifts on the ground and battle through the clouds of flurries twirling about in the wind.
Finally, the last on my list, the Finnegan family, had been attended, and I was headed home.
My usual route, with its many detours and blockades, proving too frustratingly slow so I ducked down a side street that promised a smoother journey.
But there I was much mistaken.
The heel of my boot slipped on a patch of ice, and I found myself on my back, sinking deep into snowy grave while the falling flakes were like many handfuls of dirt being dropped upon me.
Rest in peace, Doctor Watson.
I crawled out, guided by the beacon of warm light issuing from a shop window I hadn’t seen before.
I blinked, scarcely believing my eyes.
It was a tea shop.
It was open and, going by my admittedly impaired gaze, doing a bustling business.
I got to my feet and brushed myself off and made for the light as fast as my frozen limbs would carry me.
Inside, it was blissfully warm and not just because of the cosy fire.
“Come in, love!” cried a pink-faced lady behind the counter. “Strong coffee and a thick slice of my Christmas cake?”
It sounded like heaven, and I said as much.
I sank into a chair and sighed.
A steaming cup soon appeared before me.
The coffee was fortified with brandy and soon so was I.
Then the cake arrived. It was marvelous.
I made a note that before I departed I must buy another slice to carry home to Holmes, who had a penchant for such things.
I ate and drank, and once thawed, I had the wherewithal to look about me.
Couples, mothers with children, even a few of my own ilk, Bohemian bachelors, were seated at tables. Everyone was enjoying hot drinks and sweet confections and chatting amicably.
What fortune to have found this place, I thought, deciding at once that I would stay as long as permitted.
It was the perfect place to wait out a winter storm.
I finished the coffee and cake and was, I confess, feeling the strong grip of sleep curl about me.
But just as I was about to nod off, the door to the shop burst open and a harsh wind came barreling in.
The wind had a voice, the voice of Sherlock Holmes.
---
“Watson! Oh, God, finally, I’ve found you. And you’re alive! Barely, but yes! When you didn’t come home, I got worried. I’ve been looking in every snow drift from here to the Finnegans for you.”
I tried to open my eyes to no avail.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Death will have to wait once more for the company of Doctor Watson. I need you more.”
no subject
Date: 2019-12-15 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-15 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 04:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 04:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 03:29 pm (UTC)But thank heaven Holmes got there in time ^^"
Some lines that particularly struck me:
Life and death wait on nothing so temporal as the weather, but not so their humble attendant.
...sinking deep into snowy grave while the falling flakes were like many handfuls of dirt being dropped upon me.
It sounded like heaven, and I said as much.
The coffee was fortified with brandy and soon so was I.
But just as I was about to nod off, the door to the shop burst open and a harsh wind came barreling in. The wind had a voice, the voice of Sherlock Holmes.
no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 04:04 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 09:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-16 09:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-28 09:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2019-12-28 02:41 pm (UTC)