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picture_prompt_funTitle: Their Favorite Place, Their Favorite Thing, Their Favorite Person
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Characters/Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Picture-Prompt-Fun 147:
Word Count: 462
Date Written: 3 March 2020
Warnings: None
Summary: In which Watson comes home.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
It was just a simple apartment, Watson thought as his cab pulled up at his destination at last. They had long ago converted one of the two bedrooms into a library, and there was only that room, a small kitchen/living area, and their bedroom. Yet the mere sight of the familiar layer of bricks and the two plants by their door, which Missus Hudson had claimed gave the place a more homely touch, overjoyed him to the point his mustache was bristling with anticipation.
"Thank you, chap!" he cried out, unable to restrain himself, and gave his driver not only his fare but a sizeable tip as well. Despite his bad leg, and even the extra pain with which the coming rain filled it, he quite nearly jumped out of the cab. He almost felt like touching the plants, which he supposed Missus Hudson was right in thinking they added to their decor. Such signs of life did indicate someone lived here, and that that person cared enough to keep the simple plants green.
He was glowing and humming as he slid his key into the door. It fit as well as it always had, and the door slid open soundlessly. He bounded inside, crying out at the top of his lungs, "HOLMES! I'M HOME!" It had only been a couple of weeks; yet it felt like a couple of years since he'd last laid eyes upon the man who was his dearest friend and so very much more.
Sherlock chuckled fondly. "I deduced that before I ever heard the cab, my dear Watson," he said, greeting him with a tight hug and deep kiss. What he did not voice was the silly notion that he'd known Watson would arrive home this day not only because of the wire he'd received a week prior but from the way his heart had at last felt full when he'd awakened this morning and how, when he'd gone to collect the mail, even the very plants had somehow seemed chirpier. Their foliage had seemed to shine brighter with anticipation.
It had been as though everyone and everything had known his Watson was coming home at last and they would soon be completed again. Holmes whistled as Watson hummed, and hand in hand, they turned and went to what was truly their favorite room. It scarcely mattered, he thought, no matter how silly it was or how much such inane ideas may have been created into his mind by his extra dosage of medicine the night before. All that really mattered was that his Watson was home and they were each where they belonged again -- together. They celebrated their reunion, their hands and lips doing what they loved the most and loving each other thoroughly.
The End
Author: Katya Starling
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Characters/Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: PG-13/T
Challenge/Prompt: Picture-Prompt-Fun 147:
Word Count: 462
Date Written: 3 March 2020
Warnings: None
Summary: In which Watson comes home.
Disclaimer: All characters within belong to their rightful owners, not the author, and are used without permission.
It was just a simple apartment, Watson thought as his cab pulled up at his destination at last. They had long ago converted one of the two bedrooms into a library, and there was only that room, a small kitchen/living area, and their bedroom. Yet the mere sight of the familiar layer of bricks and the two plants by their door, which Missus Hudson had claimed gave the place a more homely touch, overjoyed him to the point his mustache was bristling with anticipation.
"Thank you, chap!" he cried out, unable to restrain himself, and gave his driver not only his fare but a sizeable tip as well. Despite his bad leg, and even the extra pain with which the coming rain filled it, he quite nearly jumped out of the cab. He almost felt like touching the plants, which he supposed Missus Hudson was right in thinking they added to their decor. Such signs of life did indicate someone lived here, and that that person cared enough to keep the simple plants green.
He was glowing and humming as he slid his key into the door. It fit as well as it always had, and the door slid open soundlessly. He bounded inside, crying out at the top of his lungs, "HOLMES! I'M HOME!" It had only been a couple of weeks; yet it felt like a couple of years since he'd last laid eyes upon the man who was his dearest friend and so very much more.
Sherlock chuckled fondly. "I deduced that before I ever heard the cab, my dear Watson," he said, greeting him with a tight hug and deep kiss. What he did not voice was the silly notion that he'd known Watson would arrive home this day not only because of the wire he'd received a week prior but from the way his heart had at last felt full when he'd awakened this morning and how, when he'd gone to collect the mail, even the very plants had somehow seemed chirpier. Their foliage had seemed to shine brighter with anticipation.
It had been as though everyone and everything had known his Watson was coming home at last and they would soon be completed again. Holmes whistled as Watson hummed, and hand in hand, they turned and went to what was truly their favorite room. It scarcely mattered, he thought, no matter how silly it was or how much such inane ideas may have been created into his mind by his extra dosage of medicine the night before. All that really mattered was that his Watson was home and they were each where they belonged again -- together. They celebrated their reunion, their hands and lips doing what they loved the most and loving each other thoroughly.
The End
no subject
Date: 2020-03-07 12:27 pm (UTC)