Short ficlet, inspired by Maureen's plot ideas :) It's
kind of odd, and the format's unusual for me, but I think it worked
out all right....
Scene: 221b Baker St., the living room.
Holmes: -sitting cross-legged in armchair, looking extremely bored-
Watson: -sitting on couch, looking bored- Holmes....
Holmes: This is ridiculous.
Holmes: I suppose any other male on the planet would take this opportunity to
talk about...Ďguy thingsí, I believe is the term.
Watson: Oh, most likely. -struck by sudden Alicia-induced-idea-
Especially when they have such... interesting... superior officers.
Holmes: -narrows eyes- What exactly are you implying?
Watson: Imply? Me? Never! Though come to think of it, I believe Deidre mentioned
something about romantic implications yesterday....
Holmes: Iím utterly disgusted.
Watson: Why? I just visited the mechanics. I shouldnít smell like sewage anymore.
-both pause, trying to forget random trip through New London sewers in Lestradeís
new 'submersible' cruiser-
Holmes: I didnít mean that. Though you do look, and smell, much better now.
Watson: I should hope so! They had me sitting under that rinse for forty-five
minutes! I think I lost some polish.
Holmes: -tsks- How horrid.
Watson: Quite so, old boy! However, there was quite a pretty metermaid....
Holmes: From one personal humiliation to the next....
Watson: Pardon me, Holmes?
Holmes: Oh, nothing, nothing....
Lestrade: -stomps out of kitchen in true Lestrade fashion- Oh, you guys are
hopeless! That was the most pathetic attempt at male bonding Iíve ever
Holmes: Well, my dear, we did try. Can we go out for tea now?
Lestrade: -huffs and scowls, once again in true Lestrade fashion-
Fine, but Iím not paying.
Holmes: But you lost the poker game!
Lestrade: And you two lost the other one!
Watson: Here, Iíll pay.
Holmes and Lestrade: Absolutely not. She/Heís paying!