Holmes fic: Overcoat
Title: Overcoat
Universe: ACD canon
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 125
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Summary: "When an overcoat with its pockets weighted by rocks was found in the Thames, Lestrade called on Holmes..."
A/N: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #11: Coat Porn. Whether it's BBC Sherlock's amazing Belstaff, Joan Watson's slickers, or classic Victorian overcoats, let outerwear be your inspiration for today's entry.
Follows Curiosities
When an overcoat with its pockets weighted by rocks was found in the Thames, Lestrade called on Holmes, hoping it would provide a clue to the identity of our headless corpse.
The coat was threadbare and exceedingly worn. Despite its time in the river, there was still a discernible odor. Holmes concluded its owner had lived in it, which did not match with our well-groomed corpse.
The pockets were carefully turned out; the only item found within them was an old campaign pin, caught in the threads of a fraying inner pocket. "The coat is also military," I said to Holmes.
"There is blood upon the collar. The owner may have met with some misadventure."
"I do hope it wasn't fatal."
"We may never know."
Universe: ACD canon
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 125
Characters: Watson, Holmes
Summary: "When an overcoat with its pockets weighted by rocks was found in the Thames, Lestrade called on Holmes..."
A/N: Written for watsons_woes July Writing Prompt #11: Coat Porn. Whether it's BBC Sherlock's amazing Belstaff, Joan Watson's slickers, or classic Victorian overcoats, let outerwear be your inspiration for today's entry.
Follows Curiosities
When an overcoat with its pockets weighted by rocks was found in the Thames, Lestrade called on Holmes, hoping it would provide a clue to the identity of our headless corpse.
The coat was threadbare and exceedingly worn. Despite its time in the river, there was still a discernible odor. Holmes concluded its owner had lived in it, which did not match with our well-groomed corpse.
The pockets were carefully turned out; the only item found within them was an old campaign pin, caught in the threads of a fraying inner pocket. "The coat is also military," I said to Holmes.
"There is blood upon the collar. The owner may have met with some misadventure."
"I do hope it wasn't fatal."
"We may never know."