Fic: Mistletoe Mayday: G
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holmes_minorTitle: Mistletoe Mayday
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Characters: Holmes/Watson, Lestrade/Lomax
Notes: Monthly prompt response. Also fornewyearcntdown prompt #3: mistletoe. Holmes is a vampire. Watson is a werewolf. Lomax is a warlock.
Summary: Holmes and Watson find themselves under the mistletoe at the Scotland Yard Christmas party.
“Watson.”
“I know, Holmes, it’s awkward. A were and a nightwalker at a Scotland Yard Christmas party—”
“Watson.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think Lestrade is feeling just as out of sorts as we are—”
“Watson.”
“You and I and Lestrade are all thinking the same thing: where is Lomax? Lestrade invited Lomax to the party, and Lomax was overjoyed at the invitation. Lomax was also very nervous about attending an event. That is natural, to be expected. I mean, I don’t think there are any other warlocks here. I haven’t smelled anything, well, witch-y, but, of course, there are an abundance of clove oranges about, so one might’ve slipped in unawares—”
“Watson.”
“Lomax asked us to attend as well so that there would be some familiar—a witch joke, but indulge me, it’s Christmas—faces. We know he fancies Lestrade, so we agreed to come. You agreed—which astounded me—but there you have it. And now, and now, the party is well underway, and there’s no sign of Lomax! He abandoned us and Lestrade—”
“Watson!”
Holmes abruptly pressed his lips to mine, then pulled away just as abruptly.
“What was that for—oh!”
“To stop your chatter!”
Holmes pointed. I looked up.
“Mistletoe!” I exclaimed. I looked around the room, but no one seemed to have noticed the kiss. Whether they were simply unobservant or under a bit of Holmes’s glamour, I couldn’t say.
“Look, Watson.”
Holmes was still pointing. I looked up again.
“It’s mistletoe, Holmes. A nice arrangement. Oh! They seem to be, well, growing before our eyes.”
Indeed, the beribboned springs were strung like strands of beads with a mix of white mistletoe berries and red holly berries.
Holmes’s eyes flashed, and in an instant, he had snatched the bough of mistletoe from its mooring and hurried outside. Naturally, I dashed after him.
“Holmes, you’ve just made a spectacle of yourself.”
“They won’t remember a thing,” he said dismissively. “Look, Watson.”
“I have looked, Holmes,” I whined. “Tell me what it is.”
“Three white berries, three red berries, three white berries. White, red, white. What if the white are dashes and the reds are dots?”
“A cry for help?!”
“Hold it steady, Watson.”
I did so as Holmes waved his hands and muttered.
POOF!
A large puff of smoke dispersed to reveal a very disheveled Lomax.
“Thank you!” he sighed. “I was so nervous I accidentally cast a spell on myself!”
I played the fussing mother, smoothing and setting his clothes to rights and offering him my hat.
“Is Lestrade still there?” asked Lomax plaintively. “What must he think of me?”
Holmes clapped his hands and produced a small box of fine cigars. “Tell him you were unavoidably delayed and offer these as an apology.”
“Oh, thank you, and thank you for answering my distress call!”
Lomax hurried inside.
“What shall we do now?” I asked.
“I suppose I should remedy the lack of mistletoe.”
“And I fancy a mince pie!”
Rating: Gen
Length: 500
Characters: Holmes/Watson, Lestrade/Lomax
Notes: Monthly prompt response. Also for
newyearcntdown prompt #3: mistletoe. Holmes is a vampire. Watson is a werewolf. Lomax is a warlock.Summary: Holmes and Watson find themselves under the mistletoe at the Scotland Yard Christmas party.
“Watson.”
“I know, Holmes, it’s awkward. A were and a nightwalker at a Scotland Yard Christmas party—”
“Watson.”
“If it’s any consolation, I think Lestrade is feeling just as out of sorts as we are—”
“Watson.”
“You and I and Lestrade are all thinking the same thing: where is Lomax? Lestrade invited Lomax to the party, and Lomax was overjoyed at the invitation. Lomax was also very nervous about attending an event. That is natural, to be expected. I mean, I don’t think there are any other warlocks here. I haven’t smelled anything, well, witch-y, but, of course, there are an abundance of clove oranges about, so one might’ve slipped in unawares—”
“Watson.”
“Lomax asked us to attend as well so that there would be some familiar—a witch joke, but indulge me, it’s Christmas—faces. We know he fancies Lestrade, so we agreed to come. You agreed—which astounded me—but there you have it. And now, and now, the party is well underway, and there’s no sign of Lomax! He abandoned us and Lestrade—”
“Watson!”
Holmes abruptly pressed his lips to mine, then pulled away just as abruptly.
“What was that for—oh!”
“To stop your chatter!”
Holmes pointed. I looked up.
“Mistletoe!” I exclaimed. I looked around the room, but no one seemed to have noticed the kiss. Whether they were simply unobservant or under a bit of Holmes’s glamour, I couldn’t say.
“Look, Watson.”
Holmes was still pointing. I looked up again.
“It’s mistletoe, Holmes. A nice arrangement. Oh! They seem to be, well, growing before our eyes.”
Indeed, the beribboned springs were strung like strands of beads with a mix of white mistletoe berries and red holly berries.
Holmes’s eyes flashed, and in an instant, he had snatched the bough of mistletoe from its mooring and hurried outside. Naturally, I dashed after him.
“Holmes, you’ve just made a spectacle of yourself.”
“They won’t remember a thing,” he said dismissively. “Look, Watson.”
“I have looked, Holmes,” I whined. “Tell me what it is.”
“Three white berries, three red berries, three white berries. White, red, white. What if the white are dashes and the reds are dots?”
“A cry for help?!”
“Hold it steady, Watson.”
I did so as Holmes waved his hands and muttered.
POOF!
A large puff of smoke dispersed to reveal a very disheveled Lomax.
“Thank you!” he sighed. “I was so nervous I accidentally cast a spell on myself!”
I played the fussing mother, smoothing and setting his clothes to rights and offering him my hat.
“Is Lestrade still there?” asked Lomax plaintively. “What must he think of me?”
Holmes clapped his hands and produced a small box of fine cigars. “Tell him you were unavoidably delayed and offer these as an apology.”
“Oh, thank you, and thank you for answering my distress call!”
Lomax hurried inside.
“What shall we do now?” I asked.
“I suppose I should remedy the lack of mistletoe.”
“And I fancy a mince pie!”
