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holmes_minorTitle: Scheherazade
Author: gardnerhill
Form/Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: The scalpel and the revolver are no match for the pen.
Author's Notes: For the June 2017 Holmes Minor Monthly Prompt, “Travel,” the July 2017 prompt, “Dog Days,” and the October 2017 prompt, “Tales of the Unexpected”
***
“Trust me, your ladyship.” Watson smiled warmly at the teary-eyed dowager wringing her kerchief on the settee of her parlour. “Once I report back to Mr. Sherlock Holmes he is sure to take a personal interest and will come here himself, though he is mostly known for solving infamous murders. One singular case required Mr. Holmes to travel to Surrey, for the purpose of attending a little girl’s tea party.”
Lady Hazelton clasped her hands together like a little girl herself. “Oh, would you please tell me of that case, Dr. Watson?”
“Of course, my lady.” Beaming at the stricken elderly patrician – and deliberately pretending not to notice every servant and maid leaning in or making an excuse to dust immaculate décor so as to remain within earshot of their famous visitor – Watson related the events of that day.
Holmes deducing the train’s speed via the position of the telegraph poles; Holmes relating their client’s background and schooling to Mr. Outis’ startlement and wonder; Holmes telling Watson, what was so very unusual about the man’s cufflinks. The details came together like threads in Watson's hands, and he sorted and wove them before his enthralled listeners.
“…which was the precise moment when Sherlock Holmes realised that the governess had been painting the inside of the child’s toy teacups with opium to keep Gracie asleep whilst she pilfered the house of its valuables a little at a time.” At the patrician’s gasp Watson smiled reassuringly. “Fortunately, Lady Hazelton, the dose was far too small for a grown man, and Mr. Holmes can withstand powerful doses of many intoxicating drugs over the years; he took no harm other than a bout of lethargy.” At an impatient cough from the outer room he concluded. “The governess was arrested and her horde uncovered in her quarters, and Gracie Outis was safe.”
“How very extraordinary!” said the old woman. Her face fell again and tears glimmered in her eyes. “If only Mr. Holmes understood how important my poor little Gervaise is to me.”
A little yip from outside the room turned Hazelton’s head, face alight. A tiny Pekinese scampered into the drawing room and leaped into his delighted mistress’ lap, barking.
Sherlock Holmes filled the doorway, and his face was stern even as the tearful woman welcomed back her pet. “You will need to hire another scullery maid, Lady Hazelton. Millie has fled in advance of me finding her hiding place, where she’d been keeping the dog – either for ransom or as a cruel prank.”
***
“Admit it, Holmes,” Watson said on the train home. “Your celebrity turned out to be a useful thing here. I held everyone in the room talking about you, long enough for you to enter unnoticed and search the servants’ quarters and workstations for the pup.”
“Not my celebrity but your ability to hold your listeners spellbound, Watson,” Holmes countered. “At any rate, our rent is assured for the next decade, and I appreciated the small puzzle on such a dull day.”
Author: gardnerhill
Form/Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes
Rating: G
Warning: None
Summary: The scalpel and the revolver are no match for the pen.
Author's Notes: For the June 2017 Holmes Minor Monthly Prompt, “Travel,” the July 2017 prompt, “Dog Days,” and the October 2017 prompt, “Tales of the Unexpected”
***
“Trust me, your ladyship.” Watson smiled warmly at the teary-eyed dowager wringing her kerchief on the settee of her parlour. “Once I report back to Mr. Sherlock Holmes he is sure to take a personal interest and will come here himself, though he is mostly known for solving infamous murders. One singular case required Mr. Holmes to travel to Surrey, for the purpose of attending a little girl’s tea party.”
Lady Hazelton clasped her hands together like a little girl herself. “Oh, would you please tell me of that case, Dr. Watson?”
“Of course, my lady.” Beaming at the stricken elderly patrician – and deliberately pretending not to notice every servant and maid leaning in or making an excuse to dust immaculate décor so as to remain within earshot of their famous visitor – Watson related the events of that day.
Holmes deducing the train’s speed via the position of the telegraph poles; Holmes relating their client’s background and schooling to Mr. Outis’ startlement and wonder; Holmes telling Watson, what was so very unusual about the man’s cufflinks. The details came together like threads in Watson's hands, and he sorted and wove them before his enthralled listeners.
“…which was the precise moment when Sherlock Holmes realised that the governess had been painting the inside of the child’s toy teacups with opium to keep Gracie asleep whilst she pilfered the house of its valuables a little at a time.” At the patrician’s gasp Watson smiled reassuringly. “Fortunately, Lady Hazelton, the dose was far too small for a grown man, and Mr. Holmes can withstand powerful doses of many intoxicating drugs over the years; he took no harm other than a bout of lethargy.” At an impatient cough from the outer room he concluded. “The governess was arrested and her horde uncovered in her quarters, and Gracie Outis was safe.”
“How very extraordinary!” said the old woman. Her face fell again and tears glimmered in her eyes. “If only Mr. Holmes understood how important my poor little Gervaise is to me.”
A little yip from outside the room turned Hazelton’s head, face alight. A tiny Pekinese scampered into the drawing room and leaped into his delighted mistress’ lap, barking.
Sherlock Holmes filled the doorway, and his face was stern even as the tearful woman welcomed back her pet. “You will need to hire another scullery maid, Lady Hazelton. Millie has fled in advance of me finding her hiding place, where she’d been keeping the dog – either for ransom or as a cruel prank.”
***
“Admit it, Holmes,” Watson said on the train home. “Your celebrity turned out to be a useful thing here. I held everyone in the room talking about you, long enough for you to enter unnoticed and search the servants’ quarters and workstations for the pup.”
“Not my celebrity but your ability to hold your listeners spellbound, Watson,” Holmes countered. “At any rate, our rent is assured for the next decade, and I appreciated the small puzzle on such a dull day.”
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no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 02:58 pm (UTC)A very neat amalgamation of the prompts ^__^
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Date: 2017-10-02 07:27 pm (UTC)And you gotta admit, Sherlock Holmes taking a case that required him to be a guest at a little girl's tea party IS a tale of the unexpected!
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Date: 2017-10-02 04:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 07:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 05:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 07:33 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-02 11:38 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-03 12:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-03 08:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-04 01:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-04 02:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2017-10-05 03:16 am (UTC)Come to think of it, Sherlock Holmes taking a case of a rich old lady's missing doggie is unexpected, too.
no subject
Date: 2017-10-05 05:18 am (UTC)Now can you go for a triple threat? A casefic-ception: A case fic within a case fic within a case fic?
no subject
Date: 2017-10-07 07:06 am (UTC)***
Watson heard the sound of an entire fiction magazine being crumpled in the adjoining room.
He returned from the cottage kitchen, tea in hand. "Holmes?" he queried, with a cheery and heartless grin.
His partner's if-looks-could-kill glare had not lost one iota of its intensity in thirty years. "Watson," Holmes ground between his teeth. "You wrote about me ... taking a case ... to look for an old woman's lapdog?"
no subject
Date: 2017-10-07 11:09 pm (UTC)Hehe, Watson is so toast.