Fic: Just Fancy: G
Dec. 12th, 2016 04:25 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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holmes_minorTitle: Just Fancy
Form/Wordcount: 462 words
Characters/Pairings: Holmes, Watson, Hopkins, Lestrade
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: N/A
Author’s Notes: Written for the December Prompt: Gift. O wad some Power the giftie gie us/ To see oursels as ithers see us! [Robert Burns]
Holmes was adjusting his bushy white beard for the hundredth time as they entered Scotland Yard.
“But will everyone know I’m George Meredith?”
He looked across at his companion, who was resplendent in a harlequin costume.
“Watson, do you think I should’ve carried a volume of ‘The Egoist’ after all?”
Watson rubbed at his temple a little. “I’m sure everyone will be able to tell who you are, Holmes. Let’s just find the festivities, shall we?”
They headed towards the sound of laughing and singing, but before they could enter the room a dashing cavalier exited from it.
Watson smiled. “Inspector Hopkins!”
Hopkins swept off his feathered hat and bowed low. “Good evening, Mr. Harlequin! And good evening…” He frowned at Holmes’s beard and then his face cleared. “Father Christmas!”
Holmes stared at him. “Father Christm—?”
“We shall see you later, Hopkins!”
Watson hurried Holmes into the gathering.
“Do remember, Holmes, that the point of these fancy dress parties is just to enjoy yourself and be silly. No-one cares exactly what the costume represents.”
He gazed about.
“Look! There’s Lestrade! We should go and thank him for the invitation!”
Inspector Lestrade was standing by a table with a crowd of constables around him. He had a pipe in one hand and a lens in the other, which he was apparently using to examine a plum pudding.
“Yes… currents… raisins… almonds…” He took a crumb, sniffed it and then licked it thoughtfully. “And I do believe… brandy!”
A small cheer went up from the constables.
“And what is your deduction, sir?” called one of them.
“My deduction is… the pudding will be meeting its end this very night—finished off by members of the Metropolitan police force!”
There was more cheering, and some added laughter.
Lestrade stuck out his chest. “Furthermore, I recommend you all read my latest monograph which contains a study of 135 kinds of plum pudding. I can distinguish them all merely at a glance and—”
Lestrade caught sight of Holmes and Watson, and stopped abruptly.
“Mr. Holmes! I didn’t think you would be coming tonight.”
Holmes gave him a cheery smile. “Oh, Doctor Watson was able to convince me in the end.”
He glanced at Watson, and frowned at the tense expression that had suddenly appeared on his friend’s face. He turned back to Lestrade.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your anecdotes. I think the doctor and I should go and investigate the punch bowl.”
“Yes, I could do with a drink,” said Watson faintly.
They moved away and Holmes leant over to whisper to Watson.
“You’re quite right, you know—about the costumes.”
He shook his head with a grin.
“Poor Lestrade. That could have been anybody.”
Watson gave Holmes a weak smile.
“Mm,” he said.
Form/Wordcount: 462 words
Characters/Pairings: Holmes, Watson, Hopkins, Lestrade
Rating: G
Warnings/Content: N/A
Author’s Notes: Written for the December Prompt: Gift. O wad some Power the giftie gie us/ To see oursels as ithers see us! [Robert Burns]
Holmes was adjusting his bushy white beard for the hundredth time as they entered Scotland Yard.
“But will everyone know I’m George Meredith?”
He looked across at his companion, who was resplendent in a harlequin costume.
“Watson, do you think I should’ve carried a volume of ‘The Egoist’ after all?”
Watson rubbed at his temple a little. “I’m sure everyone will be able to tell who you are, Holmes. Let’s just find the festivities, shall we?”
They headed towards the sound of laughing and singing, but before they could enter the room a dashing cavalier exited from it.
Watson smiled. “Inspector Hopkins!”
Hopkins swept off his feathered hat and bowed low. “Good evening, Mr. Harlequin! And good evening…” He frowned at Holmes’s beard and then his face cleared. “Father Christmas!”
Holmes stared at him. “Father Christm—?”
“We shall see you later, Hopkins!”
Watson hurried Holmes into the gathering.
“Do remember, Holmes, that the point of these fancy dress parties is just to enjoy yourself and be silly. No-one cares exactly what the costume represents.”
He gazed about.
“Look! There’s Lestrade! We should go and thank him for the invitation!”
Inspector Lestrade was standing by a table with a crowd of constables around him. He had a pipe in one hand and a lens in the other, which he was apparently using to examine a plum pudding.
“Yes… currents… raisins… almonds…” He took a crumb, sniffed it and then licked it thoughtfully. “And I do believe… brandy!”
A small cheer went up from the constables.
“And what is your deduction, sir?” called one of them.
“My deduction is… the pudding will be meeting its end this very night—finished off by members of the Metropolitan police force!”
There was more cheering, and some added laughter.
Lestrade stuck out his chest. “Furthermore, I recommend you all read my latest monograph which contains a study of 135 kinds of plum pudding. I can distinguish them all merely at a glance and—”
Lestrade caught sight of Holmes and Watson, and stopped abruptly.
“Mr. Holmes! I didn’t think you would be coming tonight.”
Holmes gave him a cheery smile. “Oh, Doctor Watson was able to convince me in the end.”
He glanced at Watson, and frowned at the tense expression that had suddenly appeared on his friend’s face. He turned back to Lestrade.
“Well, I’ll let you get back to your anecdotes. I think the doctor and I should go and investigate the punch bowl.”
“Yes, I could do with a drink,” said Watson faintly.
They moved away and Holmes leant over to whisper to Watson.
“You’re quite right, you know—about the costumes.”
He shook his head with a grin.
“Poor Lestrade. That could have been anybody.”
Watson gave Holmes a weak smile.
“Mm,” he said.
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