Holiday Drabble - 28 Dec 2012
Hot Buttered Rum
BBC Sherlock
Length: 221
Rating: PG
You knew the boys couldn't get through the holidays without one of them catching a cold, right?
"Why don't you just call it a hot toddy?"
"Because the recipe calls itself Hot Buttered Rum."
"Suit yourself."
John plopped a heaping spoonful of the hot buttered rum batter (Shockingly, they'd had the ingredients on hand.) into each of two large mugs and stirred in boiling water, melting everything together. Next came dark rum (courtesy of Mrs Hudson) and a splash of cream. It smelled divine and he was sure the sweet drink would overcome Sherlock's objections. Especially on such a cold day. The power was out at 221b, but he had his Smartphone (for the recipe) and Bunsen burners (to heat the water).
Sherlock was curled up in his dressing gown and a wool blanket by the fire, a box of fresh tissues to one side and a small rubbish bin with the used ones to the other.
"Here you are." John held out a mug and Sherlock extricated an arm from its coverings to take it from him. "Careful. It's hot."
"Obviously." A sick Sherlock was a petulant Sherlock.
John ignored the remark, cutting him some slack for feeling so miserable. He sipped his own drink, watching Sherlock warily watching him. "It's not poisoned. You'll like it."
Sherlock finally took a careful swallow and his eyes widened in pleased surprise.
"John?"
"Yes?"
"Keep this recipe."
John nodded. "Brilliant."
BBC Sherlock
Length: 221
Rating: PG
You knew the boys couldn't get through the holidays without one of them catching a cold, right?
"Why don't you just call it a hot toddy?"
"Because the recipe calls itself Hot Buttered Rum."
"Suit yourself."
John plopped a heaping spoonful of the hot buttered rum batter (Shockingly, they'd had the ingredients on hand.) into each of two large mugs and stirred in boiling water, melting everything together. Next came dark rum (courtesy of Mrs Hudson) and a splash of cream. It smelled divine and he was sure the sweet drink would overcome Sherlock's objections. Especially on such a cold day. The power was out at 221b, but he had his Smartphone (for the recipe) and Bunsen burners (to heat the water).
Sherlock was curled up in his dressing gown and a wool blanket by the fire, a box of fresh tissues to one side and a small rubbish bin with the used ones to the other.
"Here you are." John held out a mug and Sherlock extricated an arm from its coverings to take it from him. "Careful. It's hot."
"Obviously." A sick Sherlock was a petulant Sherlock.
John ignored the remark, cutting him some slack for feeling so miserable. He sipped his own drink, watching Sherlock warily watching him. "It's not poisoned. You'll like it."
Sherlock finally took a careful swallow and his eyes widened in pleased surprise.
"John?"
"Yes?"
"Keep this recipe."
John nodded. "Brilliant."