(Untitled)

[ex_sherlock300]

Holmes no longer had any doubt whatsoever that fate had designed this place as his perfect and personal version of Hell.

Just now, he had sprawled himself across the recreational room sofa, legs long enough that his feet dangled over one arm, and though he had the text for Much Ado About Nothing open in one hand, it did him no good. He knew the

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[mr_demonology]

He had seen the man out of the corner of his eye, but had never approached, feeling far too overwhelmed and daunted, for that, by rumour, was Sherlock Holmes. Though, introductions did need be made and he cleared his throat to intrude upon his thoughts. "Hello, there," he remarked, with a pleasant smile.

[ex_sherlock300]

Holmes opened one eye, and then was gracious enough to open the other as well. The man seemed far too pleasant, which might well mean that he wanted a favor...or wanted Holmes to remove his shoes from the upholstery. Time would tell.

"Hello," Holmes returned, arching one eyebrow in unspoken question.

[mr_demonology]

Wesley cleared his throat, feeling quite in the way. "I'm sorry, I simply had to ask. Are you perchance Sherlock Holmes? The very one?"

[ex_sherlock300]

Very few men here had actually inquired, and the question seemed singular enough that Holmes raised the other eyebrow as well, giving the man his full attention.

"I am," he returned. "Or rather, I am the only Sherlock Holmes with whom I am familiar. But you do seem to have the advantage of me, sir."

[mr_demonology]

Wesley extended a hand to be shaken. "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce at your service, sir," he introduced, with a gracious nod of his head. "It's really quite an honour to meet you."