SCFrankles (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
scfrankles) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
holmes_minor2023-05-24 05:53 pm
scfrankles) wrote in holmes_minor2023-05-24 05:53 pm
Fic: A Problem Has Been Flagged: G
Title: A Problem Has Been Flagged
Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: Holmes, Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: None
Author’s Notes: For the monthly prompt, Flag
Holmes entered 221B’s sitting room to find Watson’s trunk by the door and Watson himself collecting books from around the room and stuffing them into his carpet bag.
Holmes raised an eyebrow. “Going somewhere, dear boy?”
Watson pointed silently at a piece of paper on the table. Holmes hurried over and picked it up.
“Oh.”
It was a notice to quit for Dr. J. H. Watson. Effective immediately.
Holmes looked over at Watson. “Because…?”
Watson sighed heavily. “Mrs. Hudson understands semaphore.”
Holmes’ face lit up. “How intriguing! Let me see if I can fill in the gaps in this sequence.”
Watson sighed heavily again. “You do that, Holmes. I’ll just keep packing to leave, shall I?”
But Holmes was already well away.
“Now, you’d told me you’d offered to give one of the talks at the church hall, and that the overall theme was ‘Communication’. I assume you were considering semaphore as your subject.”
His eyes fell on two handkerchiefs lying on the sofa, each attached to a pencil.
“Flag semaphore, to be precise.”
He strode over and picked up one of the makeshift flags, examining it thoughtfully.
“You decided to do some practice, so you could give a practical demonstration.”
At this point, Watson picked up a weighty medical tome and noticeably winced. Holmes’ eyes narrowed.
“Your wound in your shoulder is currently giving you trouble and I am familiar with the physical effects thereof. So…”
Holmes picked up the second flag in his other hand, and vaguely moved both flags around.
“You were practising, when your shoulder went into spasm. You lost control of your arm, just as Mrs. Hudson came into the room and—”
Holmes’ eyes widened.
“You spelt out…?”
Watson looked gloomily up at Holmes. “Something ‘unforgivable,’ apparently. And due to my history of ‘pawky humour,’ she absolutely refuses to believe it was unintentional.”
Holmes laughed. “Oh, my poor Watson! I’ll go and talk to Mrs. Hudson…”
And he exited downstairs, still clutching the flags.
Within five minutes, he was back. “Just let me throw a few things into a bag and I’ll be ready to accompany you, Watson!”
Watson nodded resignedly. “Mrs. Hudson didn’t take well to your explanation?”
“Well…”
Holmes smiled awkwardly.
“I thought it might add a touch of lightheartedness to deliver the message using the flags! But…”
He shrugged.
“I think I might have thrown part of the semaphore system out of my brain-attic. I don’t know what I spelt out, but the last time I saw that expression on Mrs. Hudson’s face, I’d just explained to her I’d only been pretending to be dying and I had to go and stay with Mycroft for a fortnight.”
Watson moaned quietly. “Oh, for—”
He shook his head.
“Look, I will find a cab. Then we shall go and stay at my club. In the morning, you will send round a case of gin, and together we shall send our apologies.”
He grabbed the flags from Holmes.
“And we shall send them by letter!”
Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: Holmes, Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: None
Author’s Notes: For the monthly prompt, Flag
Holmes entered 221B’s sitting room to find Watson’s trunk by the door and Watson himself collecting books from around the room and stuffing them into his carpet bag.
Holmes raised an eyebrow. “Going somewhere, dear boy?”
Watson pointed silently at a piece of paper on the table. Holmes hurried over and picked it up.
“Oh.”
It was a notice to quit for Dr. J. H. Watson. Effective immediately.
Holmes looked over at Watson. “Because…?”
Watson sighed heavily. “Mrs. Hudson understands semaphore.”
Holmes’ face lit up. “How intriguing! Let me see if I can fill in the gaps in this sequence.”
Watson sighed heavily again. “You do that, Holmes. I’ll just keep packing to leave, shall I?”
But Holmes was already well away.
“Now, you’d told me you’d offered to give one of the talks at the church hall, and that the overall theme was ‘Communication’. I assume you were considering semaphore as your subject.”
His eyes fell on two handkerchiefs lying on the sofa, each attached to a pencil.
“Flag semaphore, to be precise.”
He strode over and picked up one of the makeshift flags, examining it thoughtfully.
“You decided to do some practice, so you could give a practical demonstration.”
At this point, Watson picked up a weighty medical tome and noticeably winced. Holmes’ eyes narrowed.
“Your wound in your shoulder is currently giving you trouble and I am familiar with the physical effects thereof. So…”
Holmes picked up the second flag in his other hand, and vaguely moved both flags around.
“You were practising, when your shoulder went into spasm. You lost control of your arm, just as Mrs. Hudson came into the room and—”
Holmes’ eyes widened.
“You spelt out…?”
Watson looked gloomily up at Holmes. “Something ‘unforgivable,’ apparently. And due to my history of ‘pawky humour,’ she absolutely refuses to believe it was unintentional.”
Holmes laughed. “Oh, my poor Watson! I’ll go and talk to Mrs. Hudson…”
And he exited downstairs, still clutching the flags.
Within five minutes, he was back. “Just let me throw a few things into a bag and I’ll be ready to accompany you, Watson!”
Watson nodded resignedly. “Mrs. Hudson didn’t take well to your explanation?”
“Well…”
Holmes smiled awkwardly.
“I thought it might add a touch of lightheartedness to deliver the message using the flags! But…”
He shrugged.
“I think I might have thrown part of the semaphore system out of my brain-attic. I don’t know what I spelt out, but the last time I saw that expression on Mrs. Hudson’s face, I’d just explained to her I’d only been pretending to be dying and I had to go and stay with Mycroft for a fortnight.”
Watson moaned quietly. “Oh, for—”
He shook his head.
“Look, I will find a cab. Then we shall go and stay at my club. In the morning, you will send round a case of gin, and together we shall send our apologies.”
He grabbed the flags from Holmes.
“And we shall send them by letter!”