Holiday Drabble - 25 Dec 2012
Plum Pudding
BBC Sherlock
Length: 221
Rating: PG
Christmas Day with the Holmeses…
The snow kept falling all Christmas Day. The news reader called it an unprecedented storm, but the flakes fell so softly that John couldn't think of it in those terms. That is until the power went out.
They'd finished dinner and retired to the small sitting room for plum pudding and port when it happened. A brief flicker and poof! Darkness. Or it would have been had it not been for the roaring fire in the old stone fireplace.
A footman arrived with candles and torches to light everyone's way to bed when they were ready.
Soon, Mycroft took a torch and absented himself, followed shortly by Mummy. The footman returned to clear away the dishes.
Alone at last, John shifted closer to Sherlock on the antique settee. Sherlock wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in and drawing a blanket from the back of the divan to cover them both. They rested that way in silence but for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, its soft chimes marking each passing quarter hour.
Outside the snow continued to fall.
"We'll be trapped here if this weather keeps up," murmured Sherlock.
"Mm-hmm," agreed John drowsily. He reached a hand beneath layers of wool and silk. "I'll try to arrange a distraction for you so you don't get bored."
BBC Sherlock
Length: 221
Rating: PG
Christmas Day with the Holmeses…
The snow kept falling all Christmas Day. The news reader called it an unprecedented storm, but the flakes fell so softly that John couldn't think of it in those terms. That is until the power went out.
They'd finished dinner and retired to the small sitting room for plum pudding and port when it happened. A brief flicker and poof! Darkness. Or it would have been had it not been for the roaring fire in the old stone fireplace.
A footman arrived with candles and torches to light everyone's way to bed when they were ready.
Soon, Mycroft took a torch and absented himself, followed shortly by Mummy. The footman returned to clear away the dishes.
Alone at last, John shifted closer to Sherlock on the antique settee. Sherlock wrapped an arm around him, pulling him in and drawing a blanket from the back of the divan to cover them both. They rested that way in silence but for the quiet ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway, its soft chimes marking each passing quarter hour.
Outside the snow continued to fall.
"We'll be trapped here if this weather keeps up," murmured Sherlock.
"Mm-hmm," agreed John drowsily. He reached a hand beneath layers of wool and silk. "I'll try to arrange a distraction for you so you don't get bored."