Holmes looks up when Watson and Miss Morstan enter. Lestrade is late, but he'd expected that; besides, he's fairly certain he can see a cab that would contain Lestrade approaching now. He isn't precisely overjoyed to see Watson and Miss Morstan together; frankly it still reminds him of the life Watson could be having, might've been having, and he isn't sure how it make him feel, still.
"Surprises are more my line of work," he says with a graceful inclination of his head as he stands smoothly from his seat. "Good evening, Miss Morstan. It's a pleasure to see you again." Particularly when he's about to pawn her off onto someone who would probably be a good match for her, granted, but it would also remove her from Watson's side.
Lestrade's step on the stair is not an unwelcome sound just then. He's ready for this show to begin.
When Lestrade gets the telegram, right in the middle of his lunch thank you very much, he curses over his tea. Blast Sherlock Holmes, he thinks, staring down at the short, terse, demanding little message
( ... )
"Inspector," Holmes greets with an air of nonchalance even though he's excited that this whole affair is beginning. He struggles not to let that show through. He shouldn't be excited about what's bound to be a terribly awkward evening.
"Prompt as ever. I'm afraid, as you see, that I'm a bit preoccupied with dinner plans. Our appointment will have to wait." Before Lestrade can say what Holmes can see he's struggling very hard to keep from saying in front of their feminine company, Holmes gestures to Watson and Miss Morstan and lifts his eyebrows. "Perhaps instead you could accompany us to dinner."
It's on the tip of Lestrade's tongue to chew Holmes out. He invited Lestrade here with no explanation -- no, he summoned Lestrade here more than anything, and Lestrade came without having a single clue as to what Holmes might need or want of him, because he's just a good damned person. He keeps all that to himself, though, for the lady's sake
( ... )
"Splendid," Watson enthused, and he meant it. Lestrade's compliance was the great unknown in this entire mad plan, aside from whether the pair of them might hit it off at all, but one thing at a time. "I can't think of a better way to spend an evening that in the company of good friends."
He turned his smile in Holmes's direction, and there was a fragment of hope in his expression. "Shall we go to dinner at once, or shall we loiter over drinks first?"
Mary had no idea what this was about. Ideally, her evening would have been spent with Dr. Watson alone, and culminated in some sort of concrete development of a relationship. To have Holmes along was not ideal, but she liked him well enough, and she couldn't complain too much. But now a fourth? It was all a little much
( ... )
"Let's start with dinner," Holmes decides, starting for his coat. He wants to get this meal over with as quickly as possible, and perhaps the drinks afterwards would be more entertaining. Miss Morstan and Lestrade are not very happy with this turn of events, but Holmes figures that he and Watson will just have to turn their moods around
( ... )
Well, this had gone far, far better than Watson had dared hope. Whether it was anything beyond general friendliness, he hated to hope too much. He went to the sideboard at once and began to pour out the drinks.
"Oh, no! Not at all. It was a very splendid evening." Mary meant that, too. If anything, Lestrade had been the saving grace of the evening, though it felt terrible to think such a thing. She was not dense, however, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the good Doctor was not as interested in her as she was in him, no matter how polite he might be.
He seemed more interested in Mr Holmes, for that matter.
Well, no matter how much this train of thought made her feel like some unsavoury woman out on the hunt for a husband in a desperate attempt to stave off spinsterhood (which she was not, she insisted to herself), she had genuinely enjoyed the evening.
"I suppose," she asked carefully, "Mrs Lestrade shall expect you back presently?" It was a careful question, and one she hoped she wouldn't regret asking, especially
( ... )
Holmes chokes back a small chuckle as he drifts over to the sideboard. It isn't like Watson needs any help pouring the drinks, but Holmes would rather not wade into that heterosexual area over there just now. He's not surprised at all that Miss Morstan's readjusting her interests, especially since Lestrade did far better at dinner than Holmes had thought he would. He gives Watson a small, private smile, angled so that Miss Morstan and Lestrade can't see.
"I expect she would, if she existed," Lestrade answers goodnaturedly, but he isn't an idiot. He knows what that question's fishing for, and he gives Miss Morstan a little smile, the best attempt he can muster up at flirting. So far, there's a reason there's no Mrs Lestrade, and that's that he isn't as handsome or charming as Dr. Watson.
"Probably Mrs Patmore, my housekeeper, is more than a little annoyed with me, but that's hardly a new state of affairs."
"You're in an enviable position, Miss Morstan," Holmes calls, grinning. "A lady in a roomful of bachelors."
"Ooh, whatever you do, don't tell Mrs. Forrester that," Mary laughed. "She worries far more about my being respectable than I do." She seated herself in what seemed a convenient chair, folding her hands in her lap. She was in high spirits, to be sure, and the news that there was no Mrs. Lestrade rather cheered her
( ... )
"Thank you, Doctor." Lestrade takes his drink and reminds himself that of the four people in this room, he's not the one that's out of his element. Miss Morstan's definitely at a disadvantage here because she doesn't even know that Holmes and Watson are a couple of inverts, and the only bachelor she has to look out for around here is Lestrade. Somehow, though, when she turns that warm smile on him, he feels a little like he's drowning in something.
Get your head together, G. All she's done is smile at you.
"You and me both," he says, chuckling warmly along with her. "Holmes, what was it that you summoned me over here for?" he asks, twisting around in his seat. At least talking to Holmes doesn't make him feel shy. "I'm assuming it wasn't that urgent
( ... )
Mary gave a little giggle, her hand demurely over her mouth. "I've wondered the same. Surely you must have great reserves of patience yourself." She laughed again. "Does Mr. Holmes often call you here merely to mock your colleagues?"
Her teasing was good-natured, and perhaps slightly giddy. She sipped her drink, her eyes on Lestrade. Watson was hardly on her mind, and perhaps that was a bad thing. Wouldn't his feelings be hurt? She hated the idea of hurting him.
Watson settled himself down with his drink, casting Holmes a secret sort of smile. This was going quite well, he thought. So it seemed to him. "You do me far too much credit, Lestrade," he said dismissively. "Honestly, you make Holmes out to be some sort of ogre. He's hardly that." He could also hardly so aloud, but he was privy to more than a few perks for putting up with Holmes. It was more than worth it.
"Thank you for the vote of confidence, Watson," Holmes drawls, making his way over to his chair, though he throws Watson a smile over the rim of his glass before he takes a sip. Settling down, he gets comfortable in his seat, resting an elbow on the arm of the chair as he appraises this situation between Mary and Lestrade. Mary's certainly rising to the occasion; clearly Holmes overestimated how much she had settled herself on Watson. Lestrade seems barely able to keep up
( ... )
Watson chuckled; it was good to see Lestrade and Holmes tease each other so easily, and it was good to see the evening progress so well. "He does, you know," he confided to Mary, laughing. "He does manage to get the odd score in. Better than most people can manage, to be sure."
He cast Holmes a slightly cheeky grin.
Mary shook her head, still amused. "That is possibly the only time I will ever hear Sherlock Holmes described as a rock. I don't think anyone would believe me even if I were to repeat it." Her smile was still for Lestrade, and she was beginning to wonder if the alcohol was going to her head. Oh, this was terrible, and she was feeling quite licentious, quite wanton, but he was so very charming.
And after so long waiting for Watson to make some advance that she was beginning to wonder if there was some terrible thing wrong with her (she was, after all, twenty-seven and still unmarried!), it was almost a relief to have a man smile at her like that.
Look at Mary go, flirting up quite the little storm. Though Holmes has seen this phenomenon of course, even been on the receiving end of it, he's always a little fascinated and a little put off when he's around a particularly flirty girl. She should probably leave the alcohol alone; he knows this isn't necessarily a part of her character, that the evening's going to her head.
Holmes raises a challenging eyebrow at Lestrade and sips from his drink, more amused than anything at Lestrade's jibe. He realizes that he and Lestrade are friends, and he shouldn't find that so strange, except when does he have friends"I'm sure you'll find someone who agrees, Miss Morstan," he answers smoothly, turning his somewhat lazy expression on her. "A mutual acquaintance of ours comes to mind. It really is a shame that Lestrade couldn't have helped us out on that case, rather than Athelney Jones
( ... )
"At least we can meet now," Mary pointed out. "I supposed everything did turn out all right, but I don't think any of that credit can go to Mr. Jones." She didn't like to dwell too much on what could have happened, on what it might have been like if the treasure had, indeed, fallen into her hands to share with Mr. Sholto. "It was very exciting
( ... )
"Oh, I'm sure about that." Lestrade finishes off his drink and holds his glass in his hand. His eyes hover on Miss Morstan, and then flit away, a tad self-conscious. He does wonder if he's getting a little ahead of himself, if he's letting a pair of pretty eyes carry him away, but she is rather a good deal more than pretty eyes. Look at her, all witty and charming. He has been a bachelor for a long time, hasn't let himself get carried away by pretty eyes in quite some time.
Only problem he can see is, it's a bit awkward being too flirty when he's sitting with two of his friends in their sitting room, and increasingly he's getting the distinct impression that they're monitoring how he and Miss Morstan are getting along.
Holmes hides his smirk behind his glass and gives a suffering sigh, glancing at the clock although he knows perfectly well what time it is, and he doesn't really care either way because whatever the clock says won't change what he's about to say.
"It is getting late, Miss Morstan. I fear Mrs. Forrester may be
( ... )
"Oh, dear." Mary glanced up at the clock, and her face fell. She was enjoying herself a great deal, and she was feeling reluctant to remove herself from Lestrade's company so soon, but she did have a profession to think of, and a reputation to uphold if she was to continue as a governess. Mr. and Mrs. Forrester were ideal employers, and she was as fond of them as they seemed to be of her, but their patience could not hold out forever if their governess was staying out all night with bachelors
( ... )
"Surprises are more my line of work," he says with a graceful inclination of his head as he stands smoothly from his seat. "Good evening, Miss Morstan. It's a pleasure to see you again." Particularly when he's about to pawn her off onto someone who would probably be a good match for her, granted, but it would also remove her from Watson's side.
Lestrade's step on the stair is not an unwelcome sound just then. He's ready for this show to begin.
When Lestrade gets the telegram, right in the middle of his lunch thank you very much, he curses over his tea. Blast Sherlock Holmes, he thinks, staring down at the short, terse, demanding little message ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Prompt as ever. I'm afraid, as you see, that I'm a bit preoccupied with dinner plans. Our appointment will have to wait." Before Lestrade can say what Holmes can see he's struggling very hard to keep from saying in front of their feminine company, Holmes gestures to Watson and Miss Morstan and lifts his eyebrows. "Perhaps instead you could accompany us to dinner."
It's on the tip of Lestrade's tongue to chew Holmes out. He invited Lestrade here with no explanation -- no, he summoned Lestrade here more than anything, and Lestrade came without having a single clue as to what Holmes might need or want of him, because he's just a good damned person. He keeps all that to himself, though, for the lady's sake ( ... )
Reply
He turned his smile in Holmes's direction, and there was a fragment of hope in his expression. "Shall we go to dinner at once, or shall we loiter over drinks first?"
Mary had no idea what this was about. Ideally, her evening would have been spent with Dr. Watson alone, and culminated in some sort of concrete development of a relationship. To have Holmes along was not ideal, but she liked him well enough, and she couldn't complain too much. But now a fourth? It was all a little much ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"Oh, no! Not at all. It was a very splendid evening." Mary meant that, too. If anything, Lestrade had been the saving grace of the evening, though it felt terrible to think such a thing. She was not dense, however, and she had a sneaking suspicion that the good Doctor was not as interested in her as she was in him, no matter how polite he might be.
He seemed more interested in Mr Holmes, for that matter.
Well, no matter how much this train of thought made her feel like some unsavoury woman out on the hunt for a husband in a desperate attempt to stave off spinsterhood (which she was not, she insisted to herself), she had genuinely enjoyed the evening.
"I suppose," she asked carefully, "Mrs Lestrade shall expect you back presently?" It was a careful question, and one she hoped she wouldn't regret asking, especially ( ... )
Reply
"I expect she would, if she existed," Lestrade answers goodnaturedly, but he isn't an idiot. He knows what that question's fishing for, and he gives Miss Morstan a little smile, the best attempt he can muster up at flirting. So far, there's a reason there's no Mrs Lestrade, and that's that he isn't as handsome or charming as Dr. Watson.
"Probably Mrs Patmore, my housekeeper, is more than a little annoyed with me, but that's hardly a new state of affairs."
"You're in an enviable position, Miss Morstan," Holmes calls, grinning. "A lady in a roomful of bachelors."
Reply
Reply
Get your head together, G. All she's done is smile at you.
"You and me both," he says, chuckling warmly along with her. "Holmes, what was it that you summoned me over here for?" he asks, twisting around in his seat. At least talking to Holmes doesn't make him feel shy. "I'm assuming it wasn't that urgent ( ... )
Reply
Her teasing was good-natured, and perhaps slightly giddy. She sipped her drink, her eyes on Lestrade. Watson was hardly on her mind, and perhaps that was a bad thing. Wouldn't his feelings be hurt? She hated the idea of hurting him.
Watson settled himself down with his drink, casting Holmes a secret sort of smile. This was going quite well, he thought. So it seemed to him. "You do me far too much credit, Lestrade," he said dismissively. "Honestly, you make Holmes out to be some sort of ogre. He's hardly that." He could also hardly so aloud, but he was privy to more than a few perks for putting up with Holmes. It was more than worth it.
Reply
Reply
He cast Holmes a slightly cheeky grin.
Mary shook her head, still amused. "That is possibly the only time I will ever hear Sherlock Holmes described as a rock. I don't think anyone would believe me even if I were to repeat it." Her smile was still for Lestrade, and she was beginning to wonder if the alcohol was going to her head. Oh, this was terrible, and she was feeling quite licentious, quite wanton, but he was so very charming.
And after so long waiting for Watson to make some advance that she was beginning to wonder if there was some terrible thing wrong with her (she was, after all, twenty-seven and still unmarried!), it was almost a relief to have a man smile at her like that.
Reply
Holmes raises a challenging eyebrow at Lestrade and sips from his drink, more amused than anything at Lestrade's jibe. He realizes that he and Lestrade are friends, and he shouldn't find that so strange, except when does he have friends"I'm sure you'll find someone who agrees, Miss Morstan," he answers smoothly, turning his somewhat lazy expression on her. "A mutual acquaintance of ours comes to mind. It really is a shame that Lestrade couldn't have helped us out on that case, rather than Athelney Jones ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Only problem he can see is, it's a bit awkward being too flirty when he's sitting with two of his friends in their sitting room, and increasingly he's getting the distinct impression that they're monitoring how he and Miss Morstan are getting along.
Holmes hides his smirk behind his glass and gives a suffering sigh, glancing at the clock although he knows perfectly well what time it is, and he doesn't really care either way because whatever the clock says won't change what he's about to say.
"It is getting late, Miss Morstan. I fear Mrs. Forrester may be ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment