My dear Watson,
It has now been ten days. I hope your sojourn in town has proved refreshing. I have known where you are for most of that time, of course - it needed no very stringent inquiries to establish you had taken the London train; there are many hotels, but only four you know well, and as I believe you to require familiar, yet
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I admit, I don't know exactly what Holmes did to prompt all this, but it was definitely crappy.
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I sort of had in the back of my mind a message that my godfather (in his mid sixties) sent while away from home to his wife via Facebook -- except worked out how to DO Facebook yet, so he actually just posted it to his wall. And it was amazingly sweet, saying, among other general routine things: "I'm lonely here -- I need you," and I was rather struck that it was still possible for a couple to have that sort of yearning towards each other, when briefly separated, after thirty years.
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I still cuddle this fic like a basket of cookies, hot cocoa and 100-proof rum.
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Oh, and it just melted me. Thank you.
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