s-sob just fooling around here.

[holmessitter]

[ This is a very, very fine, regular day at 221 Baker Street. What's a better way to spend a quiet Sunday morning than clearing up your best friend's dirty laundry piling up in the oddest corners, draped over your clean clothes and- hey, isn't that the shirt you thought you had lost last week

Comments

[outwittery]

Judging by the quality of the material, he has excellent taste. I can't imagine where he's picked that up considering the women of ill-repute he cozens up to... are of the very affordable sort. Easy on the pocket, that sort of thing.

[ enter the woman of ill-repute, all swirling skirts and jaunty hat. she stops and raises an eyebrow at what Watson is holding ]

And before you throw yourself into a quandary over the improper question you must wrestle with asking in order to satisfy your curiosity... it isn't mine. It seems you've a mystery on your hands. A new case, how exciting.

[holmessitter]

I-

[ A small noise, withered before it fully leaves his throat as he stares at the woman, quite surprised to find her here (or not). And it's not only her presence that perplexes him, it's what she said - exactly what Watson had suspected, and feared.

He doesn't know whether he should be offended, bewildered, or relieved. Perhaps all of them at once. ]

Holmes didn't invite you in, did he?

[outwittery]

Come now. Would Holmes really exert the effort it took to budge from his comfortable position of smug, indolent and deliberately mannerless repose to offer a young woman the courtesy of shelter from such a terrible elemental world as this?

[ beautiful slyness lining her eyes and and the curve of her smile, it takes a woman to transform into art such friendly malice. discomfitting men is the first necessary step ]

I let myself in, of course.

[holmessitter]

Of course, of course.

[ Why he would ever think otherwise, Watson doesn't know. Although the thought of Irene Adler being able to let herself in without effort disturbs him to no end. It is a good thing he has nothing quite valuable. ]

This mannerless repose, however, does not welcome criminals.

Would you like an escort out the door?

[logicpiece]

[ Steeeeeepling his fingers. ]

Now, Watson, those are unfair, unfounded accusations. There can be so many reasons for that gartrer to have found itself in my office other than your immediate thought that I had, for some reason or another, stolen it. The wind, perhaps, from an unfortunately wide open window? Or perhaps a saboteur planned by a lady of ill-repute. Or perhaps, it could have been the good Mrs. Hudson's, dropped off from her pocket when she brought in our breakfast. Or, it can be a piece of evidence, given to me by a client.

These are just a few of the infitesimal possibilities, Watson. [ Tut, tut. ] You really must learn to not limit yourself so.

[holmessitter]

I must wonder if Miss Adler had lost her touch if she truly thought planting something like this would somehow worsen your already black reputation.

[ A scoff and a roll of his eyes before Watson tosses the garter in Holmes' direction. ]

Besides, you haven't a case in weeks. Just look at yourself.

[logicpiece]

[ He catches the garter with one hand and flips it around before bringing it a little closer to his nose and sniffing it. Ahhhh, the smell of... perfume. And ladybits. ]

I am rather surprised that you mentioned Miss Adler's name. Perhaps it is you who have some lingering affections for her, Watson?

[ Waaaaave of a hand. ]

None of those paltry things that the Scotland Yard brings me interests me any.

[outwittery]

[ a distinctly unladylike wrinkling of her nose in distaste for watson's comment and holmes... creepy garter-sniffing ]

As entertainingly twisty a turn this conversation has taken, at once flattering and insulting, I would prefer to confine my eavesdropping to moments when I mean to eavesdrop. Not when I'm talked of as if I weren't sitting in the same room.