Fic: Sunday's Toast: Gen
Jun. 14th, 2020 07:27 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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holmes_minorTitle: Sunday's Toast
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: Based on the schedule of the British navy's toast of the day. Hurt without comfort yet (but I plan to write more). Cliffhanger. Influenza epidemic. For the June prompt: vessel.
Summary: Captain Basil toasts to absent friends.
“To absent friends.”
“To absent friends.”
There followed a dull clink.
It was Sunday. The old sea dog had worn her Majesty’s uniform once upon a time and had never got out of the habit of telling the days of the week by the words uttered at a raised glass.
I didn’t mind. Among eccentricities, it was a mild, almost charming one.
I had also long ago dispensed with the landlubber’s notion that rum was not a proper breakfast, especially when the morning was expected to be a hard but joyous one of bringing the ship into port.
Not home, but port.
In the guise of Captain Basil, I was on the trail of an elusive but dastardly adversary.
The old pirate’s toast echoed in my heart long after the sweet warmth of the rum was a forgotten memory on my tongue.
How I wished that Watson were by my side!
The good doctor, in good conscious, declared that he could not leave his patients when the scourge of influenza was at its peak in London, and I was not so selfish a blackguard. What else could I do but agree and applaud my friend’s dedication?
But how I missed him!
I had spent three weeks on the Isabelle Marie and was, after a very brief stay in port, to be another three weeks on an equally admirable vessel, which counted among its crew my prey. I was closing in on him, but there was still much work ahead.
Despite the work, I thought of Watson often. Perhaps too often. I had even carefully set two swaddled bottles of very fine rum in my bag as a gift for him. He preferred whiskey as a rule, but I thought perhaps a representative of this particular label might change his opinion of the spirit as it had mine.
But I forgot all about the toast and, I confess, Watson himself, however, in the business of docking. I remembered my friend as I left the ship, though, and proceeded directly to a telegraph office, the name of which I had entrusted to Watson if he wished to send me a message. I steeled myself for disappointment as I crossed the threshold. Watson was tending patients in London and would have little to say and even less time in which to say it to the likes of me.
Nevertheless, I hoped as anyone hopes for correspondence from a loved one.
There was a short missive waiting for me, but I was not in any way prepared for it.
DOCTOR WATSON GRAVELY ILL STOP REQUEST YOUR RETURN STOP MUSK PLANT ANEMONE GUM CITRUS STOP M HUDSON
Mrs. Hudson had evidently heard or learned of my counsel to Watson to include references to language of flowers as a sort of proof of legitimacy of the sender
Musk Plant for weakness. Anemone for sickness. Gum Citrus for ‘I die tomorrow.’
I acted at once and was on the swiftest vessel headed for home within the hour.
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Notes: Based on the schedule of the British navy's toast of the day. Hurt without comfort yet (but I plan to write more). Cliffhanger. Influenza epidemic. For the June prompt: vessel.
Summary: Captain Basil toasts to absent friends.
“To absent friends.”
“To absent friends.”
There followed a dull clink.
It was Sunday. The old sea dog had worn her Majesty’s uniform once upon a time and had never got out of the habit of telling the days of the week by the words uttered at a raised glass.
I didn’t mind. Among eccentricities, it was a mild, almost charming one.
I had also long ago dispensed with the landlubber’s notion that rum was not a proper breakfast, especially when the morning was expected to be a hard but joyous one of bringing the ship into port.
Not home, but port.
In the guise of Captain Basil, I was on the trail of an elusive but dastardly adversary.
The old pirate’s toast echoed in my heart long after the sweet warmth of the rum was a forgotten memory on my tongue.
How I wished that Watson were by my side!
The good doctor, in good conscious, declared that he could not leave his patients when the scourge of influenza was at its peak in London, and I was not so selfish a blackguard. What else could I do but agree and applaud my friend’s dedication?
But how I missed him!
I had spent three weeks on the Isabelle Marie and was, after a very brief stay in port, to be another three weeks on an equally admirable vessel, which counted among its crew my prey. I was closing in on him, but there was still much work ahead.
Despite the work, I thought of Watson often. Perhaps too often. I had even carefully set two swaddled bottles of very fine rum in my bag as a gift for him. He preferred whiskey as a rule, but I thought perhaps a representative of this particular label might change his opinion of the spirit as it had mine.
But I forgot all about the toast and, I confess, Watson himself, however, in the business of docking. I remembered my friend as I left the ship, though, and proceeded directly to a telegraph office, the name of which I had entrusted to Watson if he wished to send me a message. I steeled myself for disappointment as I crossed the threshold. Watson was tending patients in London and would have little to say and even less time in which to say it to the likes of me.
Nevertheless, I hoped as anyone hopes for correspondence from a loved one.
There was a short missive waiting for me, but I was not in any way prepared for it.
DOCTOR WATSON GRAVELY ILL STOP REQUEST YOUR RETURN STOP MUSK PLANT ANEMONE GUM CITRUS STOP M HUDSON
Mrs. Hudson had evidently heard or learned of my counsel to Watson to include references to language of flowers as a sort of proof of legitimacy of the sender
Musk Plant for weakness. Anemone for sickness. Gum Citrus for ‘I die tomorrow.’
I acted at once and was on the swiftest vessel headed for home within the hour.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-15 07:11 pm (UTC)And definitely hoping there is more.
no subject
Date: 2020-06-15 07:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-17 05:37 pm (UTC)Read the two accidentally in reverse but “eeep!” Still applies:-)
no subject
Date: 2020-06-17 06:07 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-06-22 05:03 pm (UTC)And I didn't know that the navy had a schedule of regular toasts - what an inspired idea for a series of stories ^__^
no subject
Date: 2020-06-22 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-03 10:51 pm (UTC)(Ps I read on before commenting and I’m better now.)
no subject
Date: 2020-07-04 03:11 am (UTC)