It was just past nine one morning when Holmes entered their sitting room. The dining room table held the remnants of breakfast. A quick glance at the side table showed the decanter was empty, as well as two used glasses sitting next to it. They really had consumed that much alcohol last night. Holmes eyes then traveled around the rest of the room, landing on Watson. He was sitting quietly by the window, reading. Holmes started. The movement was noticed by the Doctor, who quirked an eyebrow with a small smile before turning back to his book. Holmes had not expected him to go through with what had been a drunken bet. He wasn t even sure what had prompted him to make it I propose, Watson, that if you shave your mustache and wait two weeks before allowing it to grow back, I will refrain from playing my original compositions on my violin until it is fully grown back. Only Bach, Mozart and the like. The Doctor had gone through with it, blast him! Now Holmes was obligated to hold up his end to hold up his end of the bargain. With a slight smile, he picked up his Strad and began to play.