Ahhh I'm sorry I missed this when it was first posted! I'm only now catching up on this round of fics, and for some reason I didn't think to check the Ritchie fics for your work, even though I should have.
The first time I ever set eyes on Mr. Sherlock Holmes he was being shoved head-first out of a fourth-floor window. I was passing by St. Bart’s that night
lol I see what you did there. +1000 for using 'defenestrate' in a sentence. :D
The street lamp cast a small spotlight, appropriately theatrical.
Hee, I love your Watson voice here, and the way they met too.
The bloom of surprise in his eyes as he laughed is one I have never forgotten. “Good Lord,” he said. “Who are you, and where have you been?”
The lovely and long-awaited recognition of this almost made me cry.
In the months since Maiwand, I had become expert at making an organized retreat whenever fleeting social interactions threatened to solidify.
I love this line. It's so insightful about Watson's character and the nature of wounded loneliness.
Within a week, he broke into my hotel. I was out walking Gladstone at the time, but returned to find Holmes stretched across the settee in my small suite, his lock-picks carelessly strewn across the table.
“No,” I said.
This whole scene is perfect and made me grin continually.
Stamford’s smile edged toward a brighter grin, and I realised Holmes probably hadn’t had to bribe him to participate in this farce after all. There wasn’t a drop of cruelty in Stamford, but he had a relish for the foibles of his neighbors that reminded me of nothing so much as an Austen heroine.
This setup is delightful and made me laugh, a lot. I loved seeing Watson slowly settle into his new home and friendship with Holmes, and Holmes' kidnapping of Gladstone as a renewed barter. This is such a lovely story! It's fond but also a bit prickly, like Watson, and it feels like being invited into the warmth of their friendship. <33
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Date: 2017-06-28 05:15 am (UTC)The first time I ever set eyes on Mr. Sherlock Holmes he was being shoved head-first out of a fourth-floor window. I was passing by St. Bart’s that night
lol I see what you did there. +1000 for using 'defenestrate' in a sentence. :D
The street lamp cast a small spotlight, appropriately theatrical.
Hee, I love your Watson voice here, and the way they met too.
The bloom of surprise in his eyes as he laughed is one I have never forgotten. “Good Lord,” he said. “Who are you, and where have you been?”
The lovely and long-awaited recognition of this almost made me cry.
In the months since Maiwand, I had become expert at making an organized retreat whenever fleeting social interactions threatened to solidify.
I love this line. It's so insightful about Watson's character and the nature of wounded loneliness.
Within a week, he broke into my hotel. I was out walking Gladstone at the time, but returned to find Holmes stretched across the settee in my small suite, his lock-picks carelessly strewn across the table.
“No,” I said.
This whole scene is perfect and made me grin continually.
Stamford’s smile edged toward a brighter grin, and I realised Holmes probably hadn’t had to bribe him to participate in this farce after all. There wasn’t a drop of cruelty in Stamford, but he had a relish for the foibles of his neighbors that reminded me of nothing so much as an Austen heroine.
This setup is delightful and made me laugh, a lot. I loved seeing Watson slowly settle into his new home and friendship with Holmes, and Holmes' kidnapping of Gladstone as a renewed barter. This is such a lovely story! It's fond but also a bit prickly, like Watson, and it feels like being invited into the warmth of their friendship. <33