gardnerhill (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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holmes_minor2023-04-25 08:39 pm
gardnerhill) wrote in holmes_minor2023-04-25 08:39 pm
Entry tags:
"Messing About," April 2023 Holmes Minor Monthly Prompt
Title: Messing About
Author: gardnerhill
Fandom: ACD (Retirement Era)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Word Count: 300
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: Nothing – absolutely nothing–half so much worth doing.
Author's Notes: Written for the April 2023 Holmes Minor monthly prompt "Mess."
***
Story on Dreamwidth
Story on AO3
Watson had the car’s bonnet open and was happily messing about with the engine when he heard a loud metallic thump and cursing from the open window of the room Holmes was painting. He straightened and hurried over to the cottage window to see if his lover was hurt.
The paint can had clearly decided that the floor needed a touch of colour, for the toppled thing had decorated the drop-cloth in a dramatic splash of pale yellow. Holmes himself looked as if he’d tried to camouflage himself as a bee – a large streak down his front and spattered against his face.
“Oh dear.” Watson fought mightily to keep back his laughter at the sight. “I’ll come in and help you clean this up when I get the grime off my hands.”
“No need.” Holmes looked down at his hands, one of them yellow. “Tend to your own mess and I’ll deal with mine.”
Watson headed to the outside wash basin. As he headed toward the house after removing the evidence of his tinkering, he saw bright yellow spots across the yard. Not spattered paint, but yet another sign of spring in Sussex. He smiled, and instead of going in the house he went to the garden shed and emerged with the forked weeding tool.
When Holmes emerged from his own damage control smelling faintly of turpentine but (mostly) paint-free, Watson kissed his damp cheek. “To the mess hall, my dear. We’ll get another can of paint after lunch and you can give the room another go this afternoon.”
“You were weeding?” Watson’s hands were clean but bore faint traces of soil and grass-stains.
“Harvesting.” Watson smiled. “It is spring, after all.”
And Holmes understood when they sat down for luncheon – lamb cutlets, accompanied by a mess of dandelion greens.
Author: gardnerhill
Fandom: ACD (Retirement Era)
Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Word Count: 300
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: Nothing – absolutely nothing–half so much worth doing.
Author's Notes: Written for the April 2023 Holmes Minor monthly prompt "Mess."
***
Story on Dreamwidth
Story on AO3
Watson had the car’s bonnet open and was happily messing about with the engine when he heard a loud metallic thump and cursing from the open window of the room Holmes was painting. He straightened and hurried over to the cottage window to see if his lover was hurt.
The paint can had clearly decided that the floor needed a touch of colour, for the toppled thing had decorated the drop-cloth in a dramatic splash of pale yellow. Holmes himself looked as if he’d tried to camouflage himself as a bee – a large streak down his front and spattered against his face.
“Oh dear.” Watson fought mightily to keep back his laughter at the sight. “I’ll come in and help you clean this up when I get the grime off my hands.”
“No need.” Holmes looked down at his hands, one of them yellow. “Tend to your own mess and I’ll deal with mine.”
Watson headed to the outside wash basin. As he headed toward the house after removing the evidence of his tinkering, he saw bright yellow spots across the yard. Not spattered paint, but yet another sign of spring in Sussex. He smiled, and instead of going in the house he went to the garden shed and emerged with the forked weeding tool.
When Holmes emerged from his own damage control smelling faintly of turpentine but (mostly) paint-free, Watson kissed his damp cheek. “To the mess hall, my dear. We’ll get another can of paint after lunch and you can give the room another go this afternoon.”
“You were weeding?” Watson’s hands were clean but bore faint traces of soil and grass-stains.
“Harvesting.” Watson smiled. “It is spring, after all.”
And Holmes understood when they sat down for luncheon – lamb cutlets, accompanied by a mess of dandelion greens.
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