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charleygirlTitle: Jottings from a Doctor's Journal 14/?
Author: charleygirl
Rating: G
Words: 510
Characters involved: Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, Mrs Hudson
Genre: Friendship, fluff
Disclaimer: These characters, while out of copyright, were created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and do not belong to me.
Summary: A collection of scenes and fragments that are too long to be drabbles and too undisciplined to be 221Bs.
BEING BORING
The clock ticked steadily in the corner, a metronome to the cosy accompaniment of the crackling flames in the grate.
I sat in my armchair, full and contented after a hearty Sunday luncheon, my drowsy attention absorbed by the mundane articles in the newspaper spread upon my lap. Beside me Holmes lay dozing beneath a blanket, stretched out on the sofa, several yellowing pages from the medieval treatise he had been examining littering the carpet where they had fallen from his slackened fingers.
We had passed a quiet day, uninterrupted by callers or telegrams. No thefts had disturbed our blessed haven of peace and tranquillity; no murder drew us away from our fireside into the cold and damp of the metropolis outside. Even the fact that Holmes was suffering from a spring cold did not disrupt our calm, my notoriously difficult friend and patient for once accepting my treatments and prescriptions without argument. Much to my surprise, he appeared to relish the unexpected lull in the excitement of our existence almost as much as I did myself.
I could only put it down to the effects of age, for Holmes seemed to have mellowed a little with the turning of the century two years before. For the first time in all our years of friendship I sensed he might be discovering that his work was not the only thing in life that was important to him. Where once he would have been lost without a case, without some mystery to solve, he was now more relaxed; perhaps more content. Some of the demons had at last been laid to rest. After more than two decades of black moods, cocaine addiction and nervous collapse, I could only be grateful for the change, however late it had come. A happy Holmes was something for which during the darkest hours I could only have wished.
There was a light tap at the door, and Mrs Hudson entered bearing a tea tray, drawing me from my thoughts. Her step was enough to wake Holmes from his light sleep, and he sat up groggily, trying to stifle a yawn. He tried to decline the tea, but our formidable landlady would have none of it, plumping the pillows behind him and even stirring honey into the brew she poured to soothe this throat. Years ago Holmes would have almost thrown the cup and saucer across the room, detesting the merest hint of being fussed over, but now he merely offered a token protest and submitted to the attention with better if not entirely good grace.
I watched with a smile, and accepted the tea Mrs Hudson offered, content in the small and trivial matters of life. With the day to day uncertainties of working with the world’s only private consulting detective it was as well to draw comfort from them, for we could be sure that very soon we would be plunged into danger and intrigue once again.
The world was changing around us, and one never knew what lurked just around the corner.
Author: charleygirl
Rating: G
Words: 510
Characters involved: Sherlock Holmes, Doctor Watson, Mrs Hudson
Genre: Friendship, fluff
Disclaimer: These characters, while out of copyright, were created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and do not belong to me.
Summary: A collection of scenes and fragments that are too long to be drabbles and too undisciplined to be 221Bs.
BEING BORING
The clock ticked steadily in the corner, a metronome to the cosy accompaniment of the crackling flames in the grate.
I sat in my armchair, full and contented after a hearty Sunday luncheon, my drowsy attention absorbed by the mundane articles in the newspaper spread upon my lap. Beside me Holmes lay dozing beneath a blanket, stretched out on the sofa, several yellowing pages from the medieval treatise he had been examining littering the carpet where they had fallen from his slackened fingers.
We had passed a quiet day, uninterrupted by callers or telegrams. No thefts had disturbed our blessed haven of peace and tranquillity; no murder drew us away from our fireside into the cold and damp of the metropolis outside. Even the fact that Holmes was suffering from a spring cold did not disrupt our calm, my notoriously difficult friend and patient for once accepting my treatments and prescriptions without argument. Much to my surprise, he appeared to relish the unexpected lull in the excitement of our existence almost as much as I did myself.
I could only put it down to the effects of age, for Holmes seemed to have mellowed a little with the turning of the century two years before. For the first time in all our years of friendship I sensed he might be discovering that his work was not the only thing in life that was important to him. Where once he would have been lost without a case, without some mystery to solve, he was now more relaxed; perhaps more content. Some of the demons had at last been laid to rest. After more than two decades of black moods, cocaine addiction and nervous collapse, I could only be grateful for the change, however late it had come. A happy Holmes was something for which during the darkest hours I could only have wished.
There was a light tap at the door, and Mrs Hudson entered bearing a tea tray, drawing me from my thoughts. Her step was enough to wake Holmes from his light sleep, and he sat up groggily, trying to stifle a yawn. He tried to decline the tea, but our formidable landlady would have none of it, plumping the pillows behind him and even stirring honey into the brew she poured to soothe this throat. Years ago Holmes would have almost thrown the cup and saucer across the room, detesting the merest hint of being fussed over, but now he merely offered a token protest and submitted to the attention with better if not entirely good grace.
I watched with a smile, and accepted the tea Mrs Hudson offered, content in the small and trivial matters of life. With the day to day uncertainties of working with the world’s only private consulting detective it was as well to draw comfort from them, for we could be sure that very soon we would be plunged into danger and intrigue once again.
The world was changing around us, and one never knew what lurked just around the corner.
