Who: Watson and anybody at all, please. Please? :)
Where: The lounge
When: Ah. Early afternoon? Yeah, okay. That works.
Summary: Watson sneaks off to try to get some writing done.
The last few days had been a bit... overwhelming, to put it mildly. Not in a bad way, mind. In fact, barring the current circumstances of their imprisonment here, Watson would have been hard-pressed to name very many better days. He still, however, found the need to sort things out in his mind, and he decided to accomplish this in the way he often did: by sitting down and writing out his thoughts until they made some modicum of sense.
With that in mind, Watson had slipped away by himself, with a pen and a bound notebook, to find a quiet place where he could write without the immediate risk of Holmes peering over his shoulder. He ended up in the lounge, where he settled himself down in a chair near a small table which would, he felt, serve quite well as a makeshift desk.
Soon enough, he was scribbling away, feeling quite cheerful.