The Greek Interpreter: Art in the Blood

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Canon story: The Greek Interpreter
Title: Art in the Blood
Author: impulsereader
Rating: G

*****

A gift and a curse. Each of the Holmes brothers is keenly aware of his strengths and weaknesses. They must be, lest one of them be consumed completely, lost at the last. As things stand they carefully dabble; a dash of this virtue mixed with a pinch of that vice produces a pleasing result. Indulgence trumps balance for this pair.

The Blue Carbuncle: Our Footfalls Rang Out

[impulsereader.livejournal.com]

Canon story: The Blue Carbuncle
Title: Our Footfalls Rang Out
Author: impulsereader
Rating: G
A/N: A proper 60 plus a 100-word ‘extended play’ version. I was inspired by the gorgeous description of Holmes and Watson’s journey through London that night. As presented by ACD: It was a bitter night, so we drew on our ulsters and wrapped cravats about our throats. Outside, the stars were shining coldly in a cloudless sky, and the breath of the passers-by blew out into smoke like so many pistol shots. Our footfalls rang out crisply and loudly as we swung through the doctors' quarter, Wimpole Street, Harley Street, and so through Wigmore Street into Oxford Street. In a quarter of an hour we were in Bloomsbury at the Alpha Inn, which is a small public-house at the corner of one of the streets which runs down into Holborn.

*****

Despite the bitter cold of the night there was no thought of a cab. It had been too long since they last paced the streets of London side by side. The pleasure was not to be given up this evening.

“I began to think you would not remember me in your holiday rounds.”

Watson turned his head, startled. “Never, Holmes.

*****

Despite the bitter cold of the night there was no thought of a cab. It had been too long since they last paced the streets of London side by side. The pleasure was by no means to be given up this evening.

“I began to think you would not remember me in your holiday rounds.”

Watson turned his head, startled. His companion’s profile was in shadow, the gaslight doing more to conceal his expression than illuminate.

“Never, Holmes. Still, I did not expect you to value such a visit overmuch.”

“Dear fellow, it matters not why you visit Baker Street.”