Prompt: A mystery Holmes can't solve

From: sirensbane

….

Author's note: This is just a silly little piece I came up with. It has an equally silly backstory to it, which I will explain at the end. I hope you enjoy!

"The letter M, Watson. It is the most important letter to note."

"Ah, yes, the most infamous letter of the alphabet, Holmes," I reply, looking across at my friend and companion, Sherlock Holmes- who, even now, had the files of Moriarty spread across his knees. It was spewing all sorts of miscellaneous scribbles- all accounting for each and every vile deed that man had committed against humanity so far.

Some of the papers even brush against the detective's ankles, begging for attention to be paid to them- but all was in vain, for Holmes bore a concentrated gaze on the files right in front of him.

"Indeed, dear boy; I am merely updating my notes regarding the most recent case of Moriarty attempting to assassinate the gracious Queen." He informs me, without looking up at me.

"Rightly so, Holmes!" I reply, watching my friend's pencil dance across the flyleaf; before I in turn, resume my work on preparing another of Holmes' cases for publication. We work for nearly two and a half hours in silence on our individual projects; each silently thankful for the other's company.

…..

It was thus at 11:30 that night when I find my head drooping onto my chest for at least the fifth time in a row. Frustrated, I force myself to stir, in the hopes of reinvigorating my blood and resume my writing.

"Watson, go and get some sleep- you're not going to get any more work done tonight." Holmes drawls.

"Now steady on, Holmes- I just need to move a little and I should be fine."

"Watson- you have not written anything- let alone anything of worth- for at least 40 minutes. You will go to your bed willingly, or else." He tells me sternly, still engrossed in his files on Moriarty; though I do wearily note that some of the papers were stacked haphazardly across his chair and around the surrounding perimeter.

"I will finish this, and"-

Although my friend's facial expression remains as neutral as granite, I watch Holmes' eyes dart dangerously towards his prized Stradivarius, resting peacefully beside him. Intent rippled through grey irises, and I realize that the attempt to stay and finish my work will be futile.

"Very well, I will retire," I sigh, rising from my armchair. "Goodnight, Holmes."

"Goodnight, Watson. And leave your notes here," he adds masterfully, pointing towards the mantel. "I will refrain from reading them at this moment: but I will not have you stay up half the night over this sentimentality you write of our adventures."

Stung, but too tired to argue with Holmes, I surrender my writings to him. Nodding in satisfaction, he continues to sort his notes into indecipherable piles and mounds- and that was how I left him.

….

As the sun cast its beams of gold through my curtains the next morning, I shrug back the covers and wearily wash dress and shave, stumbling through the actions as though my body had assumed automatic control over my mind.

Once I was suitably presentable, I make my way into the living room, hoping breakfast and coffee- particularly plenty of the latter- would revitalize me enough to get through the day.

"WATSON!"

I throw open the door, alarmed at my friend's call. I was half expecting that someone had somehow snuck in and shot Holmes, and that I would find my poor friend bleeding to death on the floor next to the breakfast table.

But instead, I see Holmes standing at the table, with a face both as pale and as livid as I had ever seen it in the time that we had lived together here at 221B.

"Now Mr. Holmes, I must ask you to be reasonable!" Our good landlady protests, trying to mollify my irate companion.

"What's happened, Mrs. Hudson?" I ask in alarm.

"Oh, Dr. Watson, I'm afraid that some belligerent editor has decided to mock Mr. Holmes in the paper."

"The scoundrel!" I burst out, before I quickly calm again. "My apologies. What did he say about you, Holmes?"

"Read for yourself." Holmes answers grumpily. "I'm going to ensure no officer at Scotland Yard reads this!"

"What about Mycroft?" I ask; but Holmes had slammed the door shut, causing the teacups to ring.

"Oh, I'm afraid Mycroft Holmes was the one who sent the telegram regarding the… gaffe," Mrs. Hudson answers, trying hard to stifle a giggle.

"Whatever is so amusing, Mrs. Hudson?"

"Read the paper, dear."

And so, I did. And when I finished the article, I could barely contain the giggles.

….

It was nearly lunchtime before Holmes returned, looking both baffled and determined.

"Did you succeed in your inquires, Holmes?" I ask casually.

"No," he replies, sulkily, flopping into the chair opposite mine. "It turned out Mycroft got the paper into Scotland Yard well before I got there. Lestrade will mock me for evermore."

"And did you find out who or what was responsible for it happening to begin with?"

"Well, I questioned the editors; but they all swear that they had nothing to do with this mischief." Holmes answers, lighting his pipe. "I cannot make head nor tail of this, Watson."

As amusing as the situation was, I did feel a little sorry for my friend. After all, I had a feeling that I was responsible for this comical affair, but I was not letting on to Holmes about my guilt.

"I'm sure something will emerge." I reply, comfortingly, giving him a smile.

"You are right, Watson." He replies, brightening a little. "After all, what is a mere M?"

Considering his remark from the previous evening, I was more than ready with a dose of what Holmes calls my 'pawky humour.'

"Well, old chap, it could very well mean the difference between being a detective and being a gravedigger, Sherlock Holes." I answer solemnly, trying hard to refrain a smile from showing on my face.

….

He still doesn't know it was I who accidentally submitted a manuscript with the 'M' missing from his last name.

So that was how I learned that 'M' really is the most important letter in the alphabet- Moriarty was not involved in any way…

…..

:D

For some reason, whenever I type out Holmes' name, I often end up typing 'Holes' instead of 'Holmes' so that's basically the reason for this little piece in existence! (hehe, that wasn't even long!) But I hoped you liked it, and…

May the countdown begin!