(Untitled)

[isaprofessional]

It should be important to note that Holmes' last visit to the magical bar at the end of the universe put him in the body of a woman.

And while that was certainly an interesting experiment in gender differences, he was inevitably very grateful to discover, upon ducking back through his door into the comforts of 221b Baker, that he had retained his

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[morethanprops]

Moist has some charming proof that it wasn't just a dream, because he acquired a rather fine silk scarf from that night.

When he spots Holmes from where he's working, he grins and puts away his work before walking over with a glass of whiskey and a knowing look in his eye,

"You look comfortable."

[isaprofessional]

There's a moment, perhaps, between the haze of pipe smoke around his head or the lingering remnants of the brandy on his tongue, where he has to return to memory in order to make that mental connection.

"Yes," he manages, the pipe bobbing from the corner of his mouth. "Quite."

[morethanprops]

So Moist takes a nearby chair and says innocently,

"I think you left your scarf behind when you hurried out that night."

[isaprofessional]

Holmes mutters something unintelligible into the contents of his glass tumbler.

There may also be some shifting in the chair involved.

[scots_wolf]

There's a tall blond-maned man slouched all over one of the couches near the fireplace, sipping scotch, and looking up at Holmes when he sits down.

[isaprofessional]

That is, without question, a very large man.

Holmes may be a fighter, but he considers the likelihood of making it out of a match with this one with all limbs still in working order.

[scots_wolf]

It is a very large man. Tall and broad.

At the moment, he doesn't look likely to fight at all. He is full of lassitude, lazing on his couch, then looking up at Holmes with idle curiosity.

[isaprofessional]

Holmes is already sussing out the situation, though judging by the man's body language and lack of tension, he hardly seems ready to begin a brawl.

He's not about to let his own guard down so easily, though.

[27_53]

Mr. Holmes, please forgive the paper airplane that sails past your head.

(To be honest, Skellig did not think this one would fly. The various sheets of paper crumpled on the table he's sitting at near the fireplace attest to his previous failures at liftoff.)

[isaprofessional]

Holmes' head may not move, but his eyes do - trailing from one side to the other to track the flight of the paper plane, watching with mild curiosity as it skitters across the floor and settles after a small length of time.

His gaze eventually lands on the plane's original point of ascension, and he gives the man a small, acknowledging nod.

[lady_bols]

Alex found herself in the bar again, in the middle of the night. She's thankful she's wearing the nice silk pyjamas and her good dressing gown. The slippers are still a bit on the ratty side. It seemed her subconscious mind found this place eminently more interesting than staring at the ceiling, battling insomnia.

And if it's strange to imagine a fireplace going in the middle of July, well, her mind is a strange place. A mug of tea and she starts to feel human again.

She sees the gentlemen settle into one of the other chairs and gives him a slight smile. Something about him seems familiar.

"Hello."

[isaprofessional]

Her manner of dress is interesting enough - she may, in fact, be the first person Holmes has ever seen to visit the bar wearing clothes strictly meant for sleeping - though perhaps, in her world, the fashions of the day are strikingly different.

Holmes, however, is not a man who dwells on issues of fashion. He does return the smile, though. Manners are something he occasionally indulges in.

"Evening, ma'am."

[lady_bols]

He speaks and her dark eyes go wide, a smile blossoming on her face.

"Oh thank heavens, an Englishman. I was beginning to despair."

[isaprofessional]

His own expression brightens at her response.

"There is a distinct lack of us around, I've noticed."

[52_dropoff]

Charlie notices the renowned detective. As well as that the renowned detective seems to be busy. He nods a hello as he walks nearby.

[isaprofessional]

Holmes also nods in reply.

"Evening, friend."

[52_dropoff]

"Hello, Mr. Holmes. I'm not interrupting, am I?" Charlie would feel funny not being more polite than usual. Which is rare for him.

[isaprofessional]

There are those whose presence would serve as an intrusion.

Charlie, however, is not one of those.

"Hardly. Please, sit."