The Houseplant
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of the affiliated characters or ideas--their creator is the remarkable Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
KS: This is kind of my response to KCS's "has no knowledge of practical gardening" prompt. As I tried to think of something to do, I randomly thought of The Houseplant Song, by Audio Adrenaline (Google the lyrics before reading this xD), and it somewhat inspired this fic. Just a little bit.
It's a sketchy little thing, so it's probably not very good at all, but at least I attempted ONE prompt. XDDD
Enjoy!
I had been at Baker Street for about two and a half weeks now, and I was quickly finding my new fellow-lodger to be quite a puzzle indeed. He was currently occupied in skilfully playing various airs upon his violin when our landlady Mrs. Hudson brought a potted plant into our sitting-room.
"A plant, Mrs. Hudson?" Holmes said, pausing in his musical musings as the lady searched for a suitable place for it.
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, I thought this room could use an extra bit of life in it," she said brightly, giving him and myself a warm smile. "But you might be careful, Mr. Holmes, that you don't kill it with all of that Wagner," she added playfully, and with a brush of her hands upon her apron she left us alone with the room's newest occupant.
"Hmph…" Holmes sighed quietly, "I do hope she has a good place to dispose of it when it dies."
"What, you don't actually believe your music will kill it, do you?" I asked incredulously.
"No, no, Doctor," Holmes said with a laugh. "I realise my occasional scrapings can be trying on one's nerves, but they aren't that terrible. No, most plants just seem to die under my care, and I doubt this one will be any different."
"Why is that? Do you perform chemical experiments on them?" I asked, glad for an opportunity to learn a little bit about the enigmatic man.
"Occasionally, but more often than not I either over-water them or under-water them, and they simply die."
"Oh come now, Holmes. It isn't that hard to take care of a simple plant," I laughed.
"Well, it slips my mind. I have far more important things to think about," he replied, loosening the hairs of his bow and putting it away. "I know very little on how to properly take care of plants. They vary too greatly…some need little water and much sunlight, some need plenty of water and little sunlight. It is not my business to know the difference, so I don't bother."
"Couldn't even tend to a garden, eh?" I asked jestingly.
"I wouldn't know the difference between a potato plant and a carrot plant," Holmes replied as he shut the lid of his violin-case. "I do make it a point to know as many varieties of poisonous and medicinal plants that I can, however, which I am sure makes up for it."
My eyebrows rose at this statement, and I was not sure what to say in reply. Holmes, however, seemed to be done with communicating and fell into his chair with his pipe, his eyes growing distant as a line of thought started.
It was later that night that I added yet another line to my list…
"Botany.—Variable. Well up in belladonna, opium, and poisons generally. Knows nothing of practical gardening."
KS: Sorry it's so short, but it's the idea I had. XD Thanks for reading, don't forget to review!