Fic: To Be Continued
Title: To Be Continued
Rating: G
Universe: ACD Canon/Granada
Characters: Doctor Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Male OC (Baker Street Irregular)
Word Count: 507
Author's Notes: Written in response to JWP Practice Prompt #4 (Cliffhanger!) on Watson's Woes.
It was a dark night when we tracked the thieves to their den. Holmes and I, ready with hunting-crop and Penang lawyer, decided to attempt a surprise attack.
As quiet as mice, we crept behind a stack of old crates and observed our quarry. They were counting the gleaming pile of gold sovereigns they stole from the fair lady's safe and were oblivious to all but their ill-gotten loot. Their dark-lanterns gave poor light, so I could only count two men. Where were the other three?
Before I could even turn around, I felt broad rough hands grab me from behind. The next thing I knew, I found myself lying face-down on the other side of the room, with the coins scattered in all directions. Unbeknownst to us, the rest of the gang had returned while we were spying on their partners.
I much prefer the element of surprise to be on our side.
Dazed, I managed to stand up in time to see Holmes giving my attacker his best regards with his crop. I shook off my stupor and entered the fray. We gave as good as we got, but still, five is greater than two. Holmes and I slowly but surely lost ground, and ultimately found ourselves back-to-back and surrounded on all sides.
The leader of these not-so-merry men, the biggest titan amongst these savage giants, hefted a life preserver the length of my arm, and then--
“There we are, Will. All finished.”
“Oi!”
Watson looked up from his handiwork. “What's the matter? Does it hurt?”
“You can't stop there! What happened next?”
Watson smiled at the new Irregular, who only twenty minutes ago would have preferred to bleed out all over their carpet than let a doctor touch his arm, no matter what Mr. Holmes ordered. “Tell you what, lad. Come back in three days so I can check those stitches, and I'll let you know how it all ended.”
As soon as the excited patient left, Holmes finally released the loud bark of laughter that had threatened to escape him during the whole epic tale.
“I must review my commonplace books from last year, for I seem to recall a markedly different version of events. I only counted two cracksmen total who made me look portly by comparison, they stole a insultingly paltry amount from that safe, and I believe they surrendered the moment they saw your revolver.”
Watson chuckled as he closed his Gladstone bag. “Well, a little embellishment can't hurt. I'm just shocked you didn't correct me at the top of your lungs.”
“It distracted the brave boy, ensured his following your sound medical advice, and spared Mrs. Hudson a cleaning. My latest chemical experiment does not need the added variable of her being underfoot. As long as you do not plan to publish your fairy-tale version, all is well.”
“Don't worry about that, dear fellow. Our only concern now is how I'm going to get ourselves out of such a mess.”
Rating: G
Universe: ACD Canon/Granada
Characters: Doctor Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Male OC (Baker Street Irregular)
Word Count: 507
Author's Notes: Written in response to JWP Practice Prompt #4 (Cliffhanger!) on Watson's Woes.
It was a dark night when we tracked the thieves to their den. Holmes and I, ready with hunting-crop and Penang lawyer, decided to attempt a surprise attack.
As quiet as mice, we crept behind a stack of old crates and observed our quarry. They were counting the gleaming pile of gold sovereigns they stole from the fair lady's safe and were oblivious to all but their ill-gotten loot. Their dark-lanterns gave poor light, so I could only count two men. Where were the other three?
Before I could even turn around, I felt broad rough hands grab me from behind. The next thing I knew, I found myself lying face-down on the other side of the room, with the coins scattered in all directions. Unbeknownst to us, the rest of the gang had returned while we were spying on their partners.
I much prefer the element of surprise to be on our side.
Dazed, I managed to stand up in time to see Holmes giving my attacker his best regards with his crop. I shook off my stupor and entered the fray. We gave as good as we got, but still, five is greater than two. Holmes and I slowly but surely lost ground, and ultimately found ourselves back-to-back and surrounded on all sides.
The leader of these not-so-merry men, the biggest titan amongst these savage giants, hefted a life preserver the length of my arm, and then--
“There we are, Will. All finished.”
“Oi!”
Watson looked up from his handiwork. “What's the matter? Does it hurt?”
“You can't stop there! What happened next?”
Watson smiled at the new Irregular, who only twenty minutes ago would have preferred to bleed out all over their carpet than let a doctor touch his arm, no matter what Mr. Holmes ordered. “Tell you what, lad. Come back in three days so I can check those stitches, and I'll let you know how it all ended.”
As soon as the excited patient left, Holmes finally released the loud bark of laughter that had threatened to escape him during the whole epic tale.
“I must review my commonplace books from last year, for I seem to recall a markedly different version of events. I only counted two cracksmen total who made me look portly by comparison, they stole a insultingly paltry amount from that safe, and I believe they surrendered the moment they saw your revolver.”
Watson chuckled as he closed his Gladstone bag. “Well, a little embellishment can't hurt. I'm just shocked you didn't correct me at the top of your lungs.”
“It distracted the brave boy, ensured his following your sound medical advice, and spared Mrs. Hudson a cleaning. My latest chemical experiment does not need the added variable of her being underfoot. As long as you do not plan to publish your fairy-tale version, all is well.”
“Don't worry about that, dear fellow. Our only concern now is how I'm going to get ourselves out of such a mess.”