(no subject)
JSYK THERE'S A LOT THAT HAPPENED IN EMAILS WHILE LJ WAS GOING CRAZY OK
THERE WAS A LOT OF FIRST TIME SEX AND THEN HOLMES REALIZED THAT HE WAS TOO BUSY HAVING SEX TO LIKE WORRY ABOUT THE GUY WHO SENT A SNAKE TO KILL THEM IN THEIR HOTEL ROOM IN ITALY SO THEN HE JUST GOT DRESSED AND LEFT AT 4:30 AM
OK HERE WE GO
The first thing Holmes had done after leaving Baker St. was visit Mycroft. Well, more like he visited the sitting room and was there when his brother woke up, but there was little where else he could have gone at that time of night, and Mycroft seemed the best place to start since the incident had taken place abroad. While Holmes knows London intimately, Mycroft knows how to manipulate the international scene.
Of course Mycroft had seen something else had happened. He'd known it right away, that Holmes's relationship with Watson had weakened his mental faculties. Even now, Holmes can't be sure that small bit of comfort with his brother in his sitting room at 6 in the morning hadn't been the real reason he went there, but he prefers to think that had nothing to do with it.
Since then, Holmes had made progress on tracking down who might want to kill them with a snake, and who might try to strike them in Italy. Why then? Were they being watched? Was it an Italian? Someone with a grudge? At times he caught himself working quickly because he knew that he wouldn't be able to relax in his sitting room with Watson until he could put a name to something. The times he passed in and out of Baker St. in this past week to change costume -- he'd been at the docks -- had been miserable; he barely spoke to Watson, and actually he tried to stop by when he knew Watson would be out.
Finally, though, he found a name: an Italian, yes, but someone Holmes had come up against, but he'd gotten off during the court proceedings. And now he's in Italy sending snakes after detectives and their companions.
He's relieved to go back to Baker St. with the possibility of a relaxing evening in front of him, even though he hasn't yet tracked down the location of his Italian villain; a name is a lot though, and Holmes is confident the name will be enough. He's still dressed as a sailor -- and uncomfortably unshaven -- when he climbs the steps to their sitting room. There's a knot in his stomach because he knows this won't be easy, but being able to have any conversation with Watson at all would be better than slinking around in the dark across the street, waiting until Watson goes to bed before he can slip into his own house.
"Good evening, Watson," he says, putting on a brave face as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. "Has supper already been laid out?"
THERE WAS A LOT OF FIRST TIME SEX AND THEN HOLMES REALIZED THAT HE WAS TOO BUSY HAVING SEX TO LIKE WORRY ABOUT THE GUY WHO SENT A SNAKE TO KILL THEM IN THEIR HOTEL ROOM IN ITALY SO THEN HE JUST GOT DRESSED AND LEFT AT 4:30 AM
OK HERE WE GO
The first thing Holmes had done after leaving Baker St. was visit Mycroft. Well, more like he visited the sitting room and was there when his brother woke up, but there was little where else he could have gone at that time of night, and Mycroft seemed the best place to start since the incident had taken place abroad. While Holmes knows London intimately, Mycroft knows how to manipulate the international scene.
Of course Mycroft had seen something else had happened. He'd known it right away, that Holmes's relationship with Watson had weakened his mental faculties. Even now, Holmes can't be sure that small bit of comfort with his brother in his sitting room at 6 in the morning hadn't been the real reason he went there, but he prefers to think that had nothing to do with it.
Since then, Holmes had made progress on tracking down who might want to kill them with a snake, and who might try to strike them in Italy. Why then? Were they being watched? Was it an Italian? Someone with a grudge? At times he caught himself working quickly because he knew that he wouldn't be able to relax in his sitting room with Watson until he could put a name to something. The times he passed in and out of Baker St. in this past week to change costume -- he'd been at the docks -- had been miserable; he barely spoke to Watson, and actually he tried to stop by when he knew Watson would be out.
Finally, though, he found a name: an Italian, yes, but someone Holmes had come up against, but he'd gotten off during the court proceedings. And now he's in Italy sending snakes after detectives and their companions.
He's relieved to go back to Baker St. with the possibility of a relaxing evening in front of him, even though he hasn't yet tracked down the location of his Italian villain; a name is a lot though, and Holmes is confident the name will be enough. He's still dressed as a sailor -- and uncomfortably unshaven -- when he climbs the steps to their sitting room. There's a knot in his stomach because he knows this won't be easy, but being able to have any conversation with Watson at all would be better than slinking around in the dark across the street, waiting until Watson goes to bed before he can slip into his own house.
"Good evening, Watson," he says, putting on a brave face as he steps in and shuts the door behind him. "Has supper already been laid out?"