Just so you know, these are a series of insane drabbles. Some will be cute and bromancy (i'm not so good at slash but some of them are written by Wessi who may demand some, but if you don't like i will notify you in the chapter intro so you don't have to read) but most chaps will just be insanity/vague crackfics. We [Wessi and I] just started have conversations which start "I just had an idea for an awesome drabble" and we decided to finally write some down. Please don't hold our crazy-and-out-of-charactier-writing-ness against us. they're just a bit of fun. Hope you like!! XxXxX
Watson was sitting at his desk, trying his very best to concentrate on his patients notes. It wasn't going very well. It had been a long, trying day. In the fifteen minutes he had been sat at his desk, only three lines had been added to the half a page. His progress was not being helped by having Holmes studying himself in a mirror that he had set up there a few minutes after Watson had started trying to work. Sometimes he was sure the detective didn't want him to have a job. After watching Holmes scurry out of the room and return a moment later with Watson's top hat, Watson shook his head and stared at the paper, doing his best to ignore him.
"Do you think this hat looks strange to you, Watson?" he asked after a moment, modelling it for him.
Watson didn't even look up, "Can't you see that I'm busy Holmes?"
Holmes slumped a little and regarded Watson with a slightly tilted head, "Is there something the matter, old boy?"
The doctor scribbled something a little violently on his paper, "Perfectly fine Holmes," he snapped, "Why do you ask?"
"No reason," he replied, quietly, then set his features, "If you would please help me with this one thing then I shall leave you to your work with no further distractions. I promise," he bowed slightly.
Watson rubbed the side of his face and let the pen fall from his hand, "Fine, just a minute."
The detective smiled as he turned back to the mirror, "I am trying to work out why this hat doesn't look quite right."
"Just a suggestion, but could it be because that it my hat," Watson commented, raising his eyebrows.
Holmes hummed tunelessly and then after a moment he removed the hat and placed it on Watson's head. He frowned deeply and took a step back. Watson sighed and waited patiently as Holmes studied him, looking up from under the rim of his hat.
"What goes into hat design?" he mused, reaching out and taking Watson's cane from where it was leaning against the wall, "Height, diameter, rim breadth," he used the cane as a pointer as he spoke then descended into muttering.
Watson sighed again, "Why have you suddenly decided my hat looks odd? Have you taken something this morning?"
Holmes was still frowning at the hat, his face set in all seriousness, "Really Watson, you believe all of my revelations are drug induced."
"That's because, more often than not, they are. Usually the result some damn dosage too big for your body to cope with," Watson grumbled then looked down at his work, expertly managing to keep the hat in place for fear Holmes would erupt in a tirade of annoyance which would only prolong his new interest.
Holmes blinked, "Too big..." he grinned then pointed the cane at Watson, "My dear boy that's it!"
Before Watson had time to look up again, Holmes had run from the room.
"Holmes! Where are you going?!" Watson called after him. But the only response was the door closing somewhere downstairs. After a moment, Watson's shoulders slumped, he sighed and removed his hat. Today was just not a good one.
It was almost dark before Watson finally heard the front door open and close and footsteps up the stairs. He laid his paper to one side and watched as the door opened. Holmes came through excitedly, Watson's cane in one hand and a large box under his arm. He grinned and handed them both over silently.
Watson took them tentatively, set his cane on the floor and holding the box on his lap, eyeing it suspiciously, "Is there something dangerous in here Holmes?"
"Would I do that to you, Watson?" he clasped his hands behind his back, "It's perfectly safe. I'm just curious as to your reaction."
Watson frowned then gently lifted one side of the lid and peered in. The frown deepened as he removed the lid completely, "Why did you buy me a top hat for a child?" he asked, lifting it out and holding it in one hand.
"Two corrections to your question before I answer," Holmes replied, taking the small black hat and studying it, "This is not a hat for a child, it is for an adult. A child's hat would be slightly bigger, as you could probably tell," Holmes demonstrated by only just being able to fit his hand inside the hat, "And second, it is not for you in the sense that I'm giving it to you," he drifted off and stared at the hat.
"Are you going to answer the question then?"
"Hmm? Oh right, yes. Well, I have noticed that you often become somewhat melancholy for reasons I'm not sure you wish to discuss. Today for example. So, I have been trying to come up with an idea which would improve your mood without forcing you to talk. It's been an ongoing project."
Watson was no more enlightened, "So you bought a tiny hat?"
Holmes smirked, "Because the revelation came to me while I was genuinely looking for why your hat looked odd. I shall show you, what I came up with. And I wager that I can bring a smile to your face."
Watson watched, confused but intrigued as Holmes placed the hat on at a slight tilt and raised an eyebrow. Watson regarded him for a moment, then sniggered. He looked ridiculous.
Holmes grinned, "Now you see. Tiny hats make everything better."