Sherlock Holmes - La Petite Mort
Title: La Petite Mort
Word Count: 976
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Gratuitous butchering of schoolboy French?
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine.
Notes:Originally for the sherlockkink meme, I am de-annoning because of my insane need to archive. (And my complete lack of shame)
Watson crept up on Holmes' prone form, which was sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire. The man appeared to be deeply unconscious, but then his appearance was often deceiving. The dishevelled hair and clothing suggested nothing out of the ordinary, since Holmes was usually a mess at home - and in public, for that matter.
He jumped a little when the other man opened his eyes. “Watson!” he called out, almost cheerfully.
“Holmes, what are you doing on the floor?”
“Just...recovering from a little death, Watson,” he smiled up at the doctor, his eyes glinting with mirth.
“Good God, you haven't been testing poisons on yourself again have you?”
“No, no my dear doctor,” Holmes chuckled lightly, raising himself on to his elbows, “la petit mort, my friend. A little death.”
“I'm not sure I follow.” Watson's brow furrowed.
“Watson, if you do not know about that to which I refer, then I am not the one to teach you. However, I do know the name of a lovely young woman who would be more than happy to instruct you on such matters...”
Something clicked in Watson's mind, and he realised exactly what Holmes had meant. He found he wasn't as surprised or disgusted by the over-sharing as he should have been.
“Thank you, Holmes, but I am not in need of instruction in that area,” he sighed.
“Really?” Holmes' face lit up in a way that was anything but reassuring, “in that case, perhaps you would care to instruct me - there is always something new to learn, after all.” He grinned broadly.
“Is that your admission that you are less...skilled, in some area, than I?”
“I can't possibly know without the proper observation, can I? Perhaps we should find out...”
Word Count: 976
Rating: M
Characters/Pairings: Holmes/Watson
Spoilers: None
Warnings: Gratuitous butchering of schoolboy French?
Disclaimer: Anything you recognise is not mine.
Notes:Originally for the sherlockkink meme, I am de-annoning because of my insane need to archive. (And my complete lack of shame)
Watson crept up on Holmes' prone form, which was sprawled out on the rug in front of the fire. The man appeared to be deeply unconscious, but then his appearance was often deceiving. The dishevelled hair and clothing suggested nothing out of the ordinary, since Holmes was usually a mess at home - and in public, for that matter.
He jumped a little when the other man opened his eyes. “Watson!” he called out, almost cheerfully.
“Holmes, what are you doing on the floor?”
“Just...recovering from a little death, Watson,” he smiled up at the doctor, his eyes glinting with mirth.
“Good God, you haven't been testing poisons on yourself again have you?”
“No, no my dear doctor,” Holmes chuckled lightly, raising himself on to his elbows, “la petit mort, my friend. A little death.”
“I'm not sure I follow.” Watson's brow furrowed.
“Watson, if you do not know about that to which I refer, then I am not the one to teach you. However, I do know the name of a lovely young woman who would be more than happy to instruct you on such matters...”
Something clicked in Watson's mind, and he realised exactly what Holmes had meant. He found he wasn't as surprised or disgusted by the over-sharing as he should have been.
“Thank you, Holmes, but I am not in need of instruction in that area,” he sighed.
“Really?” Holmes' face lit up in a way that was anything but reassuring, “in that case, perhaps you would care to instruct me - there is always something new to learn, after all.” He grinned broadly.
“Is that your admission that you are less...skilled, in some area, than I?”
“I can't possibly know without the proper observation, can I? Perhaps we should find out...”