221b Fic: Butchery
Title: Butchery
Fandom: ACD Canon
Wordcount: 221
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson
Warning(s): None
Summary: Holmes has a clever plan which the doctor strongly objects to.
A/N: This was originally a scene I intended to scrap from an old fic that was far too verbose, but when I realized it was 221 words exactly, decided to make a few tweaks so it could be read as a standalone.
“This is intolerable, Holmes,” my companion protested as I stalked towards him with glistening razor, an evil glint in my eye.
“I daresay it cannot be helped. Assuredly, it shall hurt me more than it does you.”
“I won’t stand for it!” He shrank backwards, outraged at the atrocity I meant to commit.
“Do hold still, there’s a good fellow,” said I, testily, approaching from the side, surveying my quarry.
“What if I object?”
He dodged, preventing the first stroke from making contact with flesh.
“Then I deem it overruled.”
“That’s very undiplomatic of you.”
“Watson,” I sighed with no little impatience, setting razor upon the sink’s edge, “one would get the impression I was attempting to commit the foulest murder against my fellow-lodger with the way you are carrying on over such a trifle.”
“The removal of facial whiskers is no airy nothing,” said he, resolvedly.
“We cannot infiltrate a Gentleman Forgers Club in our own personas, and that moustache of yours is likely to give the game away.”
Narrowly avoiding striking my head on the toilet tank under which my companion was perched in the cramped water closet, I moved stealthily forward.
“It can always be dyed ginger,” he suggested, desperately.
“I should much prefer to have you shaved.”
Watson shut his eyes in anticipation. “This is unconscionable butchery.”
*
Fandom: ACD Canon
Wordcount: 221
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Dr. Watson
Warning(s): None
Summary: Holmes has a clever plan which the doctor strongly objects to.
A/N: This was originally a scene I intended to scrap from an old fic that was far too verbose, but when I realized it was 221 words exactly, decided to make a few tweaks so it could be read as a standalone.
“This is intolerable, Holmes,” my companion protested as I stalked towards him with glistening razor, an evil glint in my eye.
“I daresay it cannot be helped. Assuredly, it shall hurt me more than it does you.”
“I won’t stand for it!” He shrank backwards, outraged at the atrocity I meant to commit.
“Do hold still, there’s a good fellow,” said I, testily, approaching from the side, surveying my quarry.
“What if I object?”
He dodged, preventing the first stroke from making contact with flesh.
“Then I deem it overruled.”
“That’s very undiplomatic of you.”
“Watson,” I sighed with no little impatience, setting razor upon the sink’s edge, “one would get the impression I was attempting to commit the foulest murder against my fellow-lodger with the way you are carrying on over such a trifle.”
“The removal of facial whiskers is no airy nothing,” said he, resolvedly.
“We cannot infiltrate a Gentleman Forgers Club in our own personas, and that moustache of yours is likely to give the game away.”
Narrowly avoiding striking my head on the toilet tank under which my companion was perched in the cramped water closet, I moved stealthily forward.
“It can always be dyed ginger,” he suggested, desperately.
“I should much prefer to have you shaved.”
Watson shut his eyes in anticipation. “This is unconscionable butchery.”
*