Fic: Keeping Count: G
Mar. 11th, 2023 12:31 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
happyeverafter72 posting in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png){kind=small}
holmes_minorTitle: Keeping Count
Wordcount: 367
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson, Original Villager
Rating: G
Author’s Notes: Watson rescues Holmes from a rather persistent fellow vilager.
It was unfortunate that our trip to Fulworth coincided with a heavy shower of rain. Watson had left me browsing in the library to head to the grocer’s, and the ensuing deluge delayed my leaving to re-join him. It also happened that a lady by the name of Mrs Mills was also in the library at the time. She is a particularly persistent woman, possessed of some peculiar ideas, and I did my best to hide from her. It was, however, to no avail.
“Mr Holmes, how fortunate you should be here,” I heard from the other end of the aisle in which I had taken refuge.
I groaned inwardly before turning to give the friendliest smile I could muster. “Good morning, Mrs Mills. I am afraid I cannot stay long. Watson will be waiting for me.”
She ploughed on, regardless. “Peculiar things have been happening in my house, Mr Holmes. I fear that a fairy has taken up residence.”
I resisted rolling my eyes with an effort. “Whatever makes you think that?”
“My food has been nibbled overnight. Even things in packets in the cupboards. And, what is stranger, I have found tiny footprints in a spillage of flour upon one of my countertops. What do you make of that?”
“Mice, dear lady,” I said. “You have mice in your house. I would suggest getting a cat. I believe Mrs Emmerson’s moggy has recently delivered a litter. Perhaps you could have one of those.”
“But it cannot be mice,” she protested. “I have never had them in the house before. Let me tell you -”
“Are you ready to go, Holmes?” a much more welcome voice sounded from behind the lady’s back.
“Certainly,” I replied with no small amount of relief. “My apologies, Mrs Mills, but domestic duties call.”
I pushed gently past her, checked out my selected books at the desk, and gladly emerged into the dampened street. The rain had ceased.
“What do you I owe you for that singularly well-timed rescue?” I asked.
“I shall think of something,” Watson replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Of this I had no doubt. In matters such as this, my Watson is an excellent accountant.
Wordcount: 367
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson, Original Villager
Rating: G
Author’s Notes: Watson rescues Holmes from a rather persistent fellow vilager.
It was unfortunate that our trip to Fulworth coincided with a heavy shower of rain. Watson had left me browsing in the library to head to the grocer’s, and the ensuing deluge delayed my leaving to re-join him. It also happened that a lady by the name of Mrs Mills was also in the library at the time. She is a particularly persistent woman, possessed of some peculiar ideas, and I did my best to hide from her. It was, however, to no avail.
“Mr Holmes, how fortunate you should be here,” I heard from the other end of the aisle in which I had taken refuge.
I groaned inwardly before turning to give the friendliest smile I could muster. “Good morning, Mrs Mills. I am afraid I cannot stay long. Watson will be waiting for me.”
She ploughed on, regardless. “Peculiar things have been happening in my house, Mr Holmes. I fear that a fairy has taken up residence.”
I resisted rolling my eyes with an effort. “Whatever makes you think that?”
“My food has been nibbled overnight. Even things in packets in the cupboards. And, what is stranger, I have found tiny footprints in a spillage of flour upon one of my countertops. What do you make of that?”
“Mice, dear lady,” I said. “You have mice in your house. I would suggest getting a cat. I believe Mrs Emmerson’s moggy has recently delivered a litter. Perhaps you could have one of those.”
“But it cannot be mice,” she protested. “I have never had them in the house before. Let me tell you -”
“Are you ready to go, Holmes?” a much more welcome voice sounded from behind the lady’s back.
“Certainly,” I replied with no small amount of relief. “My apologies, Mrs Mills, but domestic duties call.”
I pushed gently past her, checked out my selected books at the desk, and gladly emerged into the dampened street. The rain had ceased.
“What do you I owe you for that singularly well-timed rescue?” I asked.
“I shall think of something,” Watson replied with a twinkle in his eye.
Of this I had no doubt. In matters such as this, my Watson is an excellent accountant.
