Bleeeeeeegh! (+ Christmas Gifts)
Umm... I don't recall inviting insomnia. It's a bit like an unwanted guest, it hangs around with it's feet on the sofa eating endlessly, getting in the way and just being a general pain in the arse.
You'll be pleased to know I'm using this time wisely, I'm working on my holmesslash Christmas drabble (and playing with Bobble)
Title: Snippets of a Baker Street Christmas: At the Fireside with Sherlock Holmes
Rating: 12-ish
Synopsis: One of many I suspect. Holmes shares a little poem with Watson.
(With apologises to whoever wrote 'The Night Before Christmas' [there's some controversy over whether Clement Clarke Moore wrote it not.])
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through London
Not a criminal was stirring, not even Moriarty.
Jewels and necklaces were left without care,
as they knew not even the hardest of criminals would be there.
Lestrade was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of success tortured his pretty head.
And Watson in his nightgown, and I in my deerstalker,
Had just settled down after much squawker.
When suddenly there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Only to discover it was Dr Watson snoring."
"That's really not funny Holmes."
"Watson, it's Christmas."
"That doesn't mean you can be rude."
"I'm not being rude, I'm being observant."
"Sometimes it's hard to tell."
"... would you like me to finish?"
"Of course I want you to finish... just not the poem...."
"Alright."
"'Squawker' doesn't even make sense!"
"..."
"It doesn't."
"You made your point. In future I shall leave literary endeavours to the professionals."
"Holmes..."
"No, no. You were quite right, it was a terrible parody."
"... I suppose it wasn't that bad. I liked the bit about Lestrade."
"You didn't think my bit about criminals was...?"
"Maybe if you finished it."
"The moon catching the light of the fresh snow on the 'sill
highlighted the good doctor's arse for my eyes
to drink their fill.
it's a pity the thunderous roar from his mouth
stopped my thoughts from moving far south."
"..."
"Well?"
"It's rude to talk with your mouth fu-OW!"
You'll be pleased to know I'm using this time wisely, I'm working on my holmesslash Christmas drabble (and playing with Bobble)
Title: Snippets of a Baker Street Christmas: At the Fireside with Sherlock Holmes
Rating: 12-ish
Synopsis: One of many I suspect. Holmes shares a little poem with Watson.
(With apologises to whoever wrote 'The Night Before Christmas' [there's some controversy over whether Clement Clarke Moore wrote it not.])
"Twas the night before Christmas, when all through London
Not a criminal was stirring, not even Moriarty.
Jewels and necklaces were left without care,
as they knew not even the hardest of criminals would be there.
Lestrade was nestled all snug in his bed,
While visions of success tortured his pretty head.
And Watson in his nightgown, and I in my deerstalker,
Had just settled down after much squawker.
When suddenly there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Only to discover it was Dr Watson snoring."
"That's really not funny Holmes."
"Watson, it's Christmas."
"That doesn't mean you can be rude."
"I'm not being rude, I'm being observant."
"Sometimes it's hard to tell."
"... would you like me to finish?"
"Of course I want you to finish... just not the poem...."
"Alright."
"'Squawker' doesn't even make sense!"
"..."
"It doesn't."
"You made your point. In future I shall leave literary endeavours to the professionals."
"Holmes..."
"No, no. You were quite right, it was a terrible parody."
"... I suppose it wasn't that bad. I liked the bit about Lestrade."
"You didn't think my bit about criminals was...?"
"Maybe if you finished it."
"The moon catching the light of the fresh snow on the 'sill
highlighted the good doctor's arse for my eyes
to drink their fill.
it's a pity the thunderous roar from his mouth
stopped my thoughts from moving far south."
"..."
"Well?"
"It's rude to talk with your mouth fu-OW!"