CHEER UP DRABBLE :D :D
Got very bored with 'Atomised' so I went to write my cheer up fic for elina_kivimaki, the_callum and skylockee.
The drabble is based on two of elina_kivimaki's excellent drawings - Armful of Holmes and Watson's Socks.
Title: Watson's Many Talents
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Watson has talents too you know ;-)
"Damn this weather!" Holmes snarled, throwing down his waterproof and leaving a large trailing pool of water from our front door to the sitting room. Mrs Hudson really wasn't going to be pleased in the morning. "Even my socks are soaked!" Without any regard for my presence or proper decorum, Holmes kicked off his boots, removed his socks and dropped them onto his waterproof. He strolled past me, dripping slightly, to take his pipe from the rack above the fireplace.
"It did sound rather bad out." I commented. I had been laid up at home for the past few days as the foul weather prevented me from moving about comfortably. Holmes had no case and was thus bored, to distract him I sent him on an errand to pick up a suit I sent to be altered. "Did you...?"
"Did I what?" He asked, turning towards me as he threw the spent match into the fire. The fire crackled behind him.
"Nothing." Sighing I put aside my sea novel, heaved myself from my chair and bent to retrieve Holmes's socks, or what was left of Holmes's socks. "These are rather threadbare, Holmes."
"Um?"
I held up his socks. "You'll get sore feet if you continue to wear your socks in this state."
"Oh pish. I have no time to discuss foot appal with you, Watson!" He waved his hand dismissively, striding towards the window and throwing back the curtains. "Somewhere in this great city a brilliant crime could be being perpetrated, but the London criminal has lost all originality and I fear my career with it."
"You always say that." I replied, taking out my darning kit and setting myself down at the table. "You always moan about how criminals are deadly dull, that there is no one to match the great Professor Moriarty. Then someone rings our door bell and you're bouncing around like a March hare!"
There was a long silence whilst I blushed into my darning and Holmes continued to stare moodily out of the window. Sometime later Holmes grumbled about needing a bath, took the newspaper and headed off to the bathroom, I continued to darn his socks in relative peace and quiet interrupted occasionally by the rain lashing at our window.
Satisfied that the socks were darned to my approval, I set them to air underneath the window next to Holmes's forgotten umbrella. Taking up my pipe I settled back into his chair and made myself comfortable. My leg had ached less during my moments of distraction and I was just contemplating what else I could distract myself with, when the sitting room door burst open and Holmes came hurtling towards me carrying this evenings 'Times.'
Launching himself onto my lap, he opened up the paper. "Listen to this! 'At sometime this afternoon Sir Charles deMille was found fatally stabbed in the horology department of the British Museum. The room was locked, presumed empty and guarded during the time. Inspector Lestrade of Scotland Yard is investigating.' Lestrade! That means that we are likely to be called in on this intriguing case."
I shifted slightly, for Holmes is somewhat bony and he had landed in a precarious place. "So you think Lestrade will need your help?"
"Without a question!" Holmes beamed at me, "the sun is certainly shining through this grey cloud! And if I'm not mistaken that will be the good Inspector's ring now!" He kissed me passionately on the lips before leaping to his feet. "It's a good job I have someone to take care of me," he commented pulling on his now dry and darned socks, "otherwise who knows what might happen."