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holmes_minor2023-09-06 03:34 pm
stonepicnicking_okapi) wrote in holmes_minor2023-09-06 03:34 pm
Entry tags:
Fic: Popular Talk: Gen
Title: Popular talk
Rating: Gen
Length: 300
Summary: Mrs. Hudson's talk is popular.
“…but, Mrs. Hudson, might we trouble you, say, twice a year?”
Mrs. Hudson was flattered, but she didn’t let it show. If the president of the Greater London Landladies Society was practically begging her for an encore of her recent talk on household safety, namely, how to deal with assault to one’s domestic peace by sundry villains, well, who was she to withhold what might be lifesaving (and, quite possibly, upholstery-saving) advice?
And it wasn’t all talk. No, Mrs. Hudson saw that all those in attendance got to test her methods of parry and thrust and resourceful counterattack. Indeed, at this inaugural lecture, she’d picked up an idea about just how to use a curtain sash to immobilise an aggressor from old Mrs. Stephenson who, renting to mostly sailors on leave, knew a thing or two about tying a knot.
“It was so popular,” continued the president. “Everyone is talking about it. I’ve fielded no fewer than seven requests for another one. Really, it was the best talk of the series. The only one that even came close was Miss Polly’s Holiday Desserts. Really, I know it’s a lot of work for you—”
“Quite a lot,” agreed Mrs. Hudson.
“—yes, yes, but it was so very well received. Just splendid. That bit with the fire poker! I was on the edge of my seat! Do say you’ll do another.”
Mrs. Hudson kept her face impassive. Then she asked,
“At the Holiday Desserts talk, there was mention of a cranberry almond sponge cake recipe.”
“Ah, you wily bird!”
Mrs. Hudson inclined her head slightly, in unconscious imitation of her tenant before a high-handed client.
“Very well. You shall have it. But I’m going to insist on two talks a year for the rest of my term as president.”
“Deal.”
Rating: Gen
Length: 300
Summary: Mrs. Hudson's talk is popular.
“…but, Mrs. Hudson, might we trouble you, say, twice a year?”
Mrs. Hudson was flattered, but she didn’t let it show. If the president of the Greater London Landladies Society was practically begging her for an encore of her recent talk on household safety, namely, how to deal with assault to one’s domestic peace by sundry villains, well, who was she to withhold what might be lifesaving (and, quite possibly, upholstery-saving) advice?
And it wasn’t all talk. No, Mrs. Hudson saw that all those in attendance got to test her methods of parry and thrust and resourceful counterattack. Indeed, at this inaugural lecture, she’d picked up an idea about just how to use a curtain sash to immobilise an aggressor from old Mrs. Stephenson who, renting to mostly sailors on leave, knew a thing or two about tying a knot.
“It was so popular,” continued the president. “Everyone is talking about it. I’ve fielded no fewer than seven requests for another one. Really, it was the best talk of the series. The only one that even came close was Miss Polly’s Holiday Desserts. Really, I know it’s a lot of work for you—”
“Quite a lot,” agreed Mrs. Hudson.
“—yes, yes, but it was so very well received. Just splendid. That bit with the fire poker! I was on the edge of my seat! Do say you’ll do another.”
Mrs. Hudson kept her face impassive. Then she asked,
“At the Holiday Desserts talk, there was mention of a cranberry almond sponge cake recipe.”
“Ah, you wily bird!”
Mrs. Hudson inclined her head slightly, in unconscious imitation of her tenant before a high-handed client.
“Very well. You shall have it. But I’m going to insist on two talks a year for the rest of my term as president.”
“Deal.”
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And of course a woman who rents to sailors would be able to hand, reef, and steer.
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