Fic: Match-Making: Rating: Teen
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holmes_minorTitle: Match-making
Length: 500
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Holmes/Watson; Lestrade/Lomax the sublibrarian of the St. James library (ILLU)
For: the monthly prompt; the first 200 words were written fordrabble_zone prompt 173 - work like a dog.
Summary: Holmes does a bit of match-making.
“I know,” said Holmes. “But I had a perfect vision in the cab yesterday of what to do about it.”
I threw down the piece of toast I’d been marmalading in distracted fashion and exclaimed,
“Holmes! You should have been burned at the stake for witchcraft!”
He gave a dismissive shrug but waited for Bessie the housemaid to enter and leave before continuing.
“Yesterday, I, too, noticed a nascent mutual admiration between our favourite representatives of public service, the branches of law and order and enlightenment, respectively.”
“Lestrade and Lomax?” I whispered, even though we were alone at our own breakfast table.
“No, the truncheon and the streetlamp. Of course, Lestrade and Lomax!”
I did not approve of his tone. “What,” I replied coolly as I took up my toast once more, “is your perfect vision?”
“I have sent to Mister Lomax, in recognition of his efforts on the case—”
“He did work like a dog.”
“—two guest passes to the Northumberland Avenue bath.”
“Two?”
“You see? That industrious young man may pay two visits, or he may pay one, accompanied.”
“Holmes, you know the world of match-making suffered a great loss when you went in for crime-solving.”
---
Apologies. Delayed. GL
I read the message and immediately did what I always do at such moments: drown my disappointment in the nearest book, which, in this case, was the book I’d brought for just such an eventuality. Inviting an inspector of Scotland Yard to share a convivial evening at a Turkish bath means accepting that unforeseen events may prevent him from attending.
One page later, I closed my book and advanced alone into the changing area.
---
Reclining on a wooden bench like a piece of ceramic in a kiln, I found my sorrows had almost vapourised.
Then the door opened.
“Terribly sorry. So glad you got on without me. How are you?”
He was a perfect vision. I could hardly respond. In truth, I didn’t even hear him.
He was a Greek god. Not the young ones, the pretty ones, the foolish ones.
The older, powerful ones. The shameless ones.
Solid trunk of corded muscle. Powerful chests. Thick arms.
I rose. My towel fell.
He grinned and lumbered towards the bench perpendicular to mine. He didn’t sit so much as rest his weight on it until it creaked.
“Would you believe at the end of the blessed affair I fell in the drains?”
“No!”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t want to be late, but the fellow at the front desk was near apoplexy when he saw me arrive doing my best impression of a bog monster. I was ordered a very hot, very private shower. I’m not entirely certain they haven’t burnt my clothes.”
He was still smiling so I laughed. “Tell me about it.”
He stretched out and nodded. “Give us a minute.”
I’d give him all night. And the morning.
His chest rose and fell, and I decided the books could get on very well without me tomorrow.
Length: 500
Rating: Teen
Pairings: Holmes/Watson; Lestrade/Lomax the sublibrarian of the St. James library (ILLU)
For: the monthly prompt; the first 200 words were written for
drabble_zone prompt 173 - work like a dog.Summary: Holmes does a bit of match-making.
“I know,” said Holmes. “But I had a perfect vision in the cab yesterday of what to do about it.”
I threw down the piece of toast I’d been marmalading in distracted fashion and exclaimed,
“Holmes! You should have been burned at the stake for witchcraft!”
He gave a dismissive shrug but waited for Bessie the housemaid to enter and leave before continuing.
“Yesterday, I, too, noticed a nascent mutual admiration between our favourite representatives of public service, the branches of law and order and enlightenment, respectively.”
“Lestrade and Lomax?” I whispered, even though we were alone at our own breakfast table.
“No, the truncheon and the streetlamp. Of course, Lestrade and Lomax!”
I did not approve of his tone. “What,” I replied coolly as I took up my toast once more, “is your perfect vision?”
“I have sent to Mister Lomax, in recognition of his efforts on the case—”
“He did work like a dog.”
“—two guest passes to the Northumberland Avenue bath.”
“Two?”
“You see? That industrious young man may pay two visits, or he may pay one, accompanied.”
“Holmes, you know the world of match-making suffered a great loss when you went in for crime-solving.”
---
Apologies. Delayed. GL
I read the message and immediately did what I always do at such moments: drown my disappointment in the nearest book, which, in this case, was the book I’d brought for just such an eventuality. Inviting an inspector of Scotland Yard to share a convivial evening at a Turkish bath means accepting that unforeseen events may prevent him from attending.
One page later, I closed my book and advanced alone into the changing area.
---
Reclining on a wooden bench like a piece of ceramic in a kiln, I found my sorrows had almost vapourised.
Then the door opened.
“Terribly sorry. So glad you got on without me. How are you?”
He was a perfect vision. I could hardly respond. In truth, I didn’t even hear him.
He was a Greek god. Not the young ones, the pretty ones, the foolish ones.
The older, powerful ones. The shameless ones.
Solid trunk of corded muscle. Powerful chests. Thick arms.
I rose. My towel fell.
He grinned and lumbered towards the bench perpendicular to mine. He didn’t sit so much as rest his weight on it until it creaked.
“Would you believe at the end of the blessed affair I fell in the drains?”
“No!”
“Oh, yes. I didn’t want to be late, but the fellow at the front desk was near apoplexy when he saw me arrive doing my best impression of a bog monster. I was ordered a very hot, very private shower. I’m not entirely certain they haven’t burnt my clothes.”
He was still smiling so I laughed. “Tell me about it.”
He stretched out and nodded. “Give us a minute.”
I’d give him all night. And the morning.
His chest rose and fell, and I decided the books could get on very well without me tomorrow.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-10 12:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-10 01:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-10 01:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-11 08:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-11 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-01-14 10:49 pm (UTC)Some favourite lines:
“Yesterday, I, too, noticed a nascent mutual admiration between our favourite representatives of public service, the branches of law and order and enlightenment, respectively.”
“Holmes, you know the world of match-making suffered a great loss when you went in for crime-solving.”
Reclining on a wooden bench like a piece of ceramic in a kiln, I found my sorrows had almost vapourised.
He stretched out and nodded. “Give us a minute.” I’d give him all night. And the morning.
no subject
Date: 2020-01-15 01:41 am (UTC)I suppose it was the 'sub' in sublibrarian that made me assume Lomax was at the beginning of his career, so younger than Lestrade.
And Ben Whishaw's 39. So less than 20 years. Could be worse. I don't actually find him attractive (though I know a lot of fandom does, 00Q, etc.), but he has a sort of quiet, intellectual quality when he plays Q that I like for Lomax.
I struggled a lot with what to call Lomax's branch of public service, so I am glad you liked that line.
I love dry sauna. I haven't been to the tiny one at the gym in ages, but I like it. You do have to kind of settle into the heat.