Mr. Scott Humes
Title: Mr. Scott Humes (Sherlock Holmes Great Gatsby AU)
Author: notoriginalname
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Summary: A Great Gatsby Au.
For all that I lived on the same block as Scott Humes for over two months, we had not been introduced during that time. In fact I knew little of the man and what meager knowledge I possessed concerned his parties rather than his character. On Friday evenings the lights from his lawn lit the neighborhood and all sorts of cars crowded the streets. When the parties took place I could hear the strains of popular tunes played by a live band on my nightly walks, and I was long in the habit of humming them to myself as I wandered along the road in the cool summer air. I was rather curious and, although had learned from my neighbors that anyone was welcome at the parties, I was reluctant to invite myself over.
One Friday morning that summer Humes’ valet delivered an invitation to that night’s party. The invitation was a rather short typed note, and I had no doubt that, while the note was signed Scott Humes, the man himself had little to do with it. Still I reckoned I would attend the party and meet my neighbor, as I had no plans for the evening. Turning the invitation over, I noticed it was addressed to a Mr. Jones at my address. I did not take it personally because after two months I had become quite accustomed to being mistakenly called Jones. My friend George Jones had found my new residence for me as a favor, and the broker had put his name on everything instead of mine. We quickly corrected the mistake on the deed, but the majority of the neighborhood still believed that Mr. Jones had bought the house and I had yet to correct the name on my mailbox. I looked up from the mailbox to the clock and finished my glass of orange juice. I had only enough time to put my plate in the sink and go straight to my car.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I pulled back into my driveway a few hours after the sun had set. I knew that the party had already started but people arrived at his parties at all hours and I was not a particular concern of his. I did not hurry but it only took me a few moments to change and I was soon on the street walking over to Humes’ estate.
I knew the splendor and extravagance of the party, but in person it was even more dazzling than I had imagined. I paused for a few moments taking in what I could of the scene. There was a dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn bordered by white cloth covered tables laden with food and drink. Neatly dressed waiters walked around with trays of appetizers and champagne glasses, a full band preformed from a platform designed especially for the occasion, and guests dressed in the latest fashion filled the dance floor and tables with talk and laughter.
I realized that I was unlikely to find the host in the crush especially as I did not know his appearance, so I decided to start my search on the balcony that looked on the water. It was not as crowded as the lawn and I could enjoy the view while inquired after the host. I walked up the stairs and saw others had the same idea. Two men leaned on the balcony and stared across the way. One of the figures stuck me as familiar and the other I recognized as the man who lived next door to Humes. As I made my way towards them to make my greetings I heard some of their conversation.
“See that green light across the way? I know the person who lives in that house… I like to imagine that my friend puts that light there for me to see.” At his voice I recognized him instantly although I was unaccustomed to hear him use that particular tone. I looked across the way to see the house that drew his focus and realized that it was my cousin’s house. I had already visited and met his wife. She was a lovely woman but I was surprised that Holmes was acquainted with her. I was still a few feet away and I wondered if I could sneak up on Holmes. He was always acutely aware of his surroundings but he seemed rather distracted and I imagined I could finally catch him unaware. I walked silently towards the pair.
“Why don’t you go over there? I’m sure your friend would be glad to see you.” I knew Humes’ neighbor to be a romantic fellow and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he were planning the meeting at that very moment.
“Alas my friend is married and, I have no doubt, better off without me.” Holmes finished sadly. By this time I was no more than two paces behind Holmes, and I recognized this break in the conversation as the perfect moment to make my presence known.
“I never thought I’d see the day Sherlock Holmes pined over a married woman, my cousin’s wife no less.” I said with a grin. My voice seemed to have a better affect than I envisaged, Holmes almost fell over with shock.
“Watson!” He cried whirling around to face me. He was less than a foot away and I was convinced for a moment that he was going to hug me and I tried not to be disappointed when he held out a hand instead. “It’s great to see you.”
“You’re not just glad you finally have an excuse to visit the beautiful Mary Watson?” I teased.
“Mary Watson” He repeated softly looking back across the water.
“Yes Mary Watson. I only met her three weeks ago but she seems a charming lady. I’ll have to warn you that I won’t help you steal her from my cousin.” I replied with forced cheer trying not to think why envisioning Holmes with Mary made me uncomfortable. At my words he turned back to me. His eyes shone in light and I realized how different he’d become. “You really have changed, going to parties and falling in love with married women, I’m surprised I recognized you.” I said as I failed in my attempt to keep my tone light.
“You seem to be mistaken Watson I’m…” Holmes said passionately then paused midsentence when he realized where he was and changed his tone and sentence “not changed much at all and very glad to see you. Come we can talk in the library.” He started towards the house.
“Before we go you don’t happen to know Scott Hues? I’ve not met him since I moved just down the road two months ago and I meant to make his acquaintance at this party.” Homes stopped walking and looked over his shoulder.
“My dear Watson, you have already met him. I am Scott Hues.” Before I could respond he’d started walking again and I had to hurry so to keep sight of him in the crowd.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I found myself in his library, a very splendid room full of beautifully bound leather books. We were far enough removed from the party that the room was comfortably silent but the library not completely exempt from the signs of such a large gathering as was evident from a disarray of books spanning from the couch to the floor and a littering of champagne flutes. I moved some of the books into a pile to clear some room on the couch and, taking a seat, I turned to Holmes waiting expectantly for his explanation. My friend closed the door and spoke.
“Before I begin I have a few questions for you, my dear Watson. Specifically how you came to this party. It is evident from the state of your clothes that you are not married and from your appearance at this gathering I can conclude that you do not plan to return to your cousin’s house, if that is indeed where you have been staying. If you would please elucidate this matter, then I will be delighted to explain the rest.” He said while peering at me as if the answers to all his questions could be divined from a scrutiny of my appearance, which knowing Holmes was very likely the case.
“Holmes, you know very little about your neighbors.” I replied with a smile. At my response he exclaimed.
“You can’t mean…”
“I moved into this neighborhood two months ago. I expect you can fill in the rest.”
“Two months and I hadn’t a clue. Oh, the time I have wasted! You are of course the George Jones I invited tonight after being remiss in my duties as neighbor for several weeks. A lot of trouble could have been avoided if I were more aware of my surroundings. This is a most perfect example of the disasters that result in forming a theory before knowing the facts.” He said mostly to himself as his brow darkened and he took a seat.
“Surely it is not all that bad!” I replied flummoxed by the severity of his response.
“Watson I have been desperately in need of your aid for the past five years. Now more than ever as the case I am investigating grows increasingly dangerous. When I heard news of your cousin’s marriage to Miss Mary, I assumed that you, as you share a name with your cousin, had finally married the Mary you had become engaged to when we last met. As I did not hear the news from you yourself I thought that you no longer wanted anything to do with me. I refrained from meeting with you or even communicating with you in the slightest so as to not bring your family to danger through association with me. What a fool I’ve been!” At this explanation my heart softened.
“You were well intentioned Holmes. No one could fault you for that.” I replied gently.
“But that I, who value a logical explanation above all else, let myself be swayed to believe fancies...”
“I take it as a compliment. I myself have missed my dear friend more than I can say.” I replied resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Well that is over now.” Said Holmes before leaping to his feet, “Come Watson! The game’s afoot!”
“Holmes, you haven’t explained anything yet!”
“There is no time! He’s here tonight, the leader himself! I don’t suppose you thought to bring your revolver? No? You can have one of mine.” And with those words I was whisked out of the library and once again into the confusion and excitement of accompanying Sherlock Holmes as he solved a case.
Author: notoriginalname
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Summary: A Great Gatsby Au.
For all that I lived on the same block as Scott Humes for over two months, we had not been introduced during that time. In fact I knew little of the man and what meager knowledge I possessed concerned his parties rather than his character. On Friday evenings the lights from his lawn lit the neighborhood and all sorts of cars crowded the streets. When the parties took place I could hear the strains of popular tunes played by a live band on my nightly walks, and I was long in the habit of humming them to myself as I wandered along the road in the cool summer air. I was rather curious and, although had learned from my neighbors that anyone was welcome at the parties, I was reluctant to invite myself over.
One Friday morning that summer Humes’ valet delivered an invitation to that night’s party. The invitation was a rather short typed note, and I had no doubt that, while the note was signed Scott Humes, the man himself had little to do with it. Still I reckoned I would attend the party and meet my neighbor, as I had no plans for the evening. Turning the invitation over, I noticed it was addressed to a Mr. Jones at my address. I did not take it personally because after two months I had become quite accustomed to being mistakenly called Jones. My friend George Jones had found my new residence for me as a favor, and the broker had put his name on everything instead of mine. We quickly corrected the mistake on the deed, but the majority of the neighborhood still believed that Mr. Jones had bought the house and I had yet to correct the name on my mailbox. I looked up from the mailbox to the clock and finished my glass of orange juice. I had only enough time to put my plate in the sink and go straight to my car.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I pulled back into my driveway a few hours after the sun had set. I knew that the party had already started but people arrived at his parties at all hours and I was not a particular concern of his. I did not hurry but it only took me a few moments to change and I was soon on the street walking over to Humes’ estate.
I knew the splendor and extravagance of the party, but in person it was even more dazzling than I had imagined. I paused for a few moments taking in what I could of the scene. There was a dance floor set up in the middle of the lawn bordered by white cloth covered tables laden with food and drink. Neatly dressed waiters walked around with trays of appetizers and champagne glasses, a full band preformed from a platform designed especially for the occasion, and guests dressed in the latest fashion filled the dance floor and tables with talk and laughter.
I realized that I was unlikely to find the host in the crush especially as I did not know his appearance, so I decided to start my search on the balcony that looked on the water. It was not as crowded as the lawn and I could enjoy the view while inquired after the host. I walked up the stairs and saw others had the same idea. Two men leaned on the balcony and stared across the way. One of the figures stuck me as familiar and the other I recognized as the man who lived next door to Humes. As I made my way towards them to make my greetings I heard some of their conversation.
“See that green light across the way? I know the person who lives in that house… I like to imagine that my friend puts that light there for me to see.” At his voice I recognized him instantly although I was unaccustomed to hear him use that particular tone. I looked across the way to see the house that drew his focus and realized that it was my cousin’s house. I had already visited and met his wife. She was a lovely woman but I was surprised that Holmes was acquainted with her. I was still a few feet away and I wondered if I could sneak up on Holmes. He was always acutely aware of his surroundings but he seemed rather distracted and I imagined I could finally catch him unaware. I walked silently towards the pair.
“Why don’t you go over there? I’m sure your friend would be glad to see you.” I knew Humes’ neighbor to be a romantic fellow and I wouldn’t have been surprised if he were planning the meeting at that very moment.
“Alas my friend is married and, I have no doubt, better off without me.” Holmes finished sadly. By this time I was no more than two paces behind Holmes, and I recognized this break in the conversation as the perfect moment to make my presence known.
“I never thought I’d see the day Sherlock Holmes pined over a married woman, my cousin’s wife no less.” I said with a grin. My voice seemed to have a better affect than I envisaged, Holmes almost fell over with shock.
“Watson!” He cried whirling around to face me. He was less than a foot away and I was convinced for a moment that he was going to hug me and I tried not to be disappointed when he held out a hand instead. “It’s great to see you.”
“You’re not just glad you finally have an excuse to visit the beautiful Mary Watson?” I teased.
“Mary Watson” He repeated softly looking back across the water.
“Yes Mary Watson. I only met her three weeks ago but she seems a charming lady. I’ll have to warn you that I won’t help you steal her from my cousin.” I replied with forced cheer trying not to think why envisioning Holmes with Mary made me uncomfortable. At my words he turned back to me. His eyes shone in light and I realized how different he’d become. “You really have changed, going to parties and falling in love with married women, I’m surprised I recognized you.” I said as I failed in my attempt to keep my tone light.
“You seem to be mistaken Watson I’m…” Holmes said passionately then paused midsentence when he realized where he was and changed his tone and sentence “not changed much at all and very glad to see you. Come we can talk in the library.” He started towards the house.
“Before we go you don’t happen to know Scott Hues? I’ve not met him since I moved just down the road two months ago and I meant to make his acquaintance at this party.” Homes stopped walking and looked over his shoulder.
“My dear Watson, you have already met him. I am Scott Hues.” Before I could respond he’d started walking again and I had to hurry so to keep sight of him in the crowd.
- - - - - - - - - - - -
I found myself in his library, a very splendid room full of beautifully bound leather books. We were far enough removed from the party that the room was comfortably silent but the library not completely exempt from the signs of such a large gathering as was evident from a disarray of books spanning from the couch to the floor and a littering of champagne flutes. I moved some of the books into a pile to clear some room on the couch and, taking a seat, I turned to Holmes waiting expectantly for his explanation. My friend closed the door and spoke.
“Before I begin I have a few questions for you, my dear Watson. Specifically how you came to this party. It is evident from the state of your clothes that you are not married and from your appearance at this gathering I can conclude that you do not plan to return to your cousin’s house, if that is indeed where you have been staying. If you would please elucidate this matter, then I will be delighted to explain the rest.” He said while peering at me as if the answers to all his questions could be divined from a scrutiny of my appearance, which knowing Holmes was very likely the case.
“Holmes, you know very little about your neighbors.” I replied with a smile. At my response he exclaimed.
“You can’t mean…”
“I moved into this neighborhood two months ago. I expect you can fill in the rest.”
“Two months and I hadn’t a clue. Oh, the time I have wasted! You are of course the George Jones I invited tonight after being remiss in my duties as neighbor for several weeks. A lot of trouble could have been avoided if I were more aware of my surroundings. This is a most perfect example of the disasters that result in forming a theory before knowing the facts.” He said mostly to himself as his brow darkened and he took a seat.
“Surely it is not all that bad!” I replied flummoxed by the severity of his response.
“Watson I have been desperately in need of your aid for the past five years. Now more than ever as the case I am investigating grows increasingly dangerous. When I heard news of your cousin’s marriage to Miss Mary, I assumed that you, as you share a name with your cousin, had finally married the Mary you had become engaged to when we last met. As I did not hear the news from you yourself I thought that you no longer wanted anything to do with me. I refrained from meeting with you or even communicating with you in the slightest so as to not bring your family to danger through association with me. What a fool I’ve been!” At this explanation my heart softened.
“You were well intentioned Holmes. No one could fault you for that.” I replied gently.
“But that I, who value a logical explanation above all else, let myself be swayed to believe fancies...”
“I take it as a compliment. I myself have missed my dear friend more than I can say.” I replied resting a hand on his shoulder.
“Well that is over now.” Said Holmes before leaping to his feet, “Come Watson! The game’s afoot!”
“Holmes, you haven’t explained anything yet!”
“There is no time! He’s here tonight, the leader himself! I don’t suppose you thought to bring your revolver? No? You can have one of mine.” And with those words I was whisked out of the library and once again into the confusion and excitement of accompanying Sherlock Holmes as he solved a case.