I return with catch-up fics! Sorry for the dropping in and out.
Canon Story: His Last Bow
Author:
shouldboverthis
Rating: G
Warnings: None
I have grown rusty in my dotage. It should have been as easy to remove the bastard American ‘slang’ from my mental attic as it was to remove the wretched beard from my chin, but to my horror, I found the words of our American cousins and the sounds of their flat vowels dropping from my mouth for months.
Canon Story: The Lion's Mane
Rating: G (Implied Holmes/Watson)
Warnings: None
To my sorrow, Watson could never be persuaded to share my little cottage with me in our declining years as I had long hoped. A lasting sense of propriety governed his actions, for what might have seemed natural--the sharing of a flat by two men of limited means—would appear odd for two comfortably situated retired men.
Canon Story: The Mazarin Stone
Rating: G and PG respectively
Warnings: Suggestion of impropriety in second and Holmes/Watson
Author's Notes: Two, unrelated
How many times have I, his dearest friend, been the victim of Holmes’ ‘practical jokes’? I fear that it has aged me terribly. I have warned him that someday this penchant for revealing his solutions to clients in the most dramatic way possible will send some poor soul into an apoplectic fit and he will have blood on his hands.
***
Though there were rumors about Holmes’ engagement of Billy as a live-in pageboy in which the word pederasty featured in hushed tones, I knew that there was nothing in them. Rumors had abounded about our relationship as well when we shared the flat. I knew for a fact that Holmes’ taste ran towards a more mature, military type of man.
Canon Story: The Missing Three-Quarter
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Author's Notes: Two, unrelated
How delighted I was that Holmes found a better use for his syringe in the case I came to call ‘The Missing Three-Quarter,’ than its previous purpose. For in using it in aid of a case, I knew that he had truly exorcised its hold and it had become but one more tool in his arsenal, no longer his master.
***
Holmes on a bicycle is a remarkable sight, for he seems to be made entirely of jutting angles: pointy-toed shoes on the pedals, bony knees rising and falling, sharp elbows sticking out like a wind-up contraption, long back in a straight line as he leans forward over his handlebars, completed by his beaked nose like the prow of a ship.