stonepicnicking_okapi (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
holmes_minor2022-02-24 11:29 am
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote in holmes_minor2022-02-24 11:29 am
Entry tags:
Fic: Permission to Carry On: Rating: Teen
Title: Permission to Carry On
Rating: Teen for Suggestive Carryings On
Length: 500
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
For: monthly prompt response, Broom Cupboard 'verse
Summary: Mrs. Hudson makes an unprecedented allowance.
“Are you certain, Holmes? Not that I doubt your faculties, you understand. It’s just that the message itself is so unexpected.”
“Unexpected, unprecedented, so much so as to be out of character. That’s why I had her repeat herself. Only twice, of course, lest my dumb incredulity provoke irritation and lead to a change of mind—which would still not be out of the realm of possibility. But, for now, the decision stands, and I think we should act accordingly.”
“Yes, yes,” I agreed heartily. “I shall contact Anstruther and ask him to take my load for tomorrow. I have already done several favours for him, so I think there won’t be a problem. Once that’s settled, I’ll work diligently to clear my patient list today and let the pending consults know of the substitute.”
“And I shall wrap up the mystery of the koi pond today. A small, but potentially highly remunerative affair. I shall do some shopping.”
“Oh, yes, so shall I. Pity the short notice, but, as you say, wholly unprecedented, so we couldn’t have planned.”
“No, but maybe a trip down…”
Holmes mentioned a street and an establishment. My cheeks flushed.
“As you wish,” I murmured. Then I turned to my breakfast. “Well, best get on with it.”
“Yes, no time for dawdling. I shan’t go to the concert tonight.”
“No?”
“No, want to rest up.”
“Sound thinking.”
---
“Oh, Martha!” exclaimed Mrs. Turner as she stepped inside the open threshold of 221 Baker Street. “Whatever is going on today?”
A workman in dusty clothes bid her pardon and passed by her, balancing a short plank of wood on one of his shoulders.
“Rottenness,” said Mrs. Hudson as she greeted her friend. “I’m having parts of the floor redone in the gentlemen’s rooms, sitting room, and other places. Mind your step, my dear.”
Mrs. Turner gingerly advanced into the interior.
“They came highly recommended and are an expert lot,” said Mrs. Hudson. “It should all be done today, but, of course, the noise can’t be helped.”
As if on cue, the men kneeling on the floor behind Mrs. Hudson began to hammer in a fierce duet.
Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner both covered their ears instinctively and moved toward the landing of the stairs. They could only mouth at each other as a second set of hammering descending from above. The cacophony was deafening.
“What about your lodgers?” asked Mrs. Turner.
Mrs. Hudson smiled. “I gave them permission to carry on.”
Mrs. Turner’s eyes widened.
Then Mrs. Hudson led her to the closed door of the broom cupboard and pointed.
Mrs. Turner could see the vibrations of the door, trembling on its hinges, and she might have heard a rattling, a rumbling, and possibly other noises emanating from inside the cupboard, but really, any disturbance that might have been heard was drowned in the sounds of professional carpentry.
“You are a romantic, Martha,” mouthed Mrs. Turner, with a sly knowing smirk.
Mrs. Hudson shrugged. “Once in a while.”
Rating: Teen for Suggestive Carryings On
Length: 500
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
For: monthly prompt response, Broom Cupboard 'verse
Summary: Mrs. Hudson makes an unprecedented allowance.
“Are you certain, Holmes? Not that I doubt your faculties, you understand. It’s just that the message itself is so unexpected.”
“Unexpected, unprecedented, so much so as to be out of character. That’s why I had her repeat herself. Only twice, of course, lest my dumb incredulity provoke irritation and lead to a change of mind—which would still not be out of the realm of possibility. But, for now, the decision stands, and I think we should act accordingly.”
“Yes, yes,” I agreed heartily. “I shall contact Anstruther and ask him to take my load for tomorrow. I have already done several favours for him, so I think there won’t be a problem. Once that’s settled, I’ll work diligently to clear my patient list today and let the pending consults know of the substitute.”
“And I shall wrap up the mystery of the koi pond today. A small, but potentially highly remunerative affair. I shall do some shopping.”
“Oh, yes, so shall I. Pity the short notice, but, as you say, wholly unprecedented, so we couldn’t have planned.”
“No, but maybe a trip down…”
Holmes mentioned a street and an establishment. My cheeks flushed.
“As you wish,” I murmured. Then I turned to my breakfast. “Well, best get on with it.”
“Yes, no time for dawdling. I shan’t go to the concert tonight.”
“No?”
“No, want to rest up.”
“Sound thinking.”
---
“Oh, Martha!” exclaimed Mrs. Turner as she stepped inside the open threshold of 221 Baker Street. “Whatever is going on today?”
A workman in dusty clothes bid her pardon and passed by her, balancing a short plank of wood on one of his shoulders.
“Rottenness,” said Mrs. Hudson as she greeted her friend. “I’m having parts of the floor redone in the gentlemen’s rooms, sitting room, and other places. Mind your step, my dear.”
Mrs. Turner gingerly advanced into the interior.
“They came highly recommended and are an expert lot,” said Mrs. Hudson. “It should all be done today, but, of course, the noise can’t be helped.”
As if on cue, the men kneeling on the floor behind Mrs. Hudson began to hammer in a fierce duet.
Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Turner both covered their ears instinctively and moved toward the landing of the stairs. They could only mouth at each other as a second set of hammering descending from above. The cacophony was deafening.
“What about your lodgers?” asked Mrs. Turner.
Mrs. Hudson smiled. “I gave them permission to carry on.”
Mrs. Turner’s eyes widened.
Then Mrs. Hudson led her to the closed door of the broom cupboard and pointed.
Mrs. Turner could see the vibrations of the door, trembling on its hinges, and she might have heard a rattling, a rumbling, and possibly other noises emanating from inside the cupboard, but really, any disturbance that might have been heard was drowned in the sounds of professional carpentry.
“You are a romantic, Martha,” mouthed Mrs. Turner, with a sly knowing smirk.
Mrs. Hudson shrugged. “Once in a while.”