A/N: I'm baaaack! Anybody miss me? No? Bummer.
Anyhow, I've been flat on my back for five days with the worst sinus infection EVER to lay grips on a miserable amateur author – 102 fever almost constantly, coughing and choking, the works (yeah, not a really comforting thing when you're writing near-death by choking in Vows…eeep!). Sooo, anyhow, I am back at last!
And being able to do practically nothing except sniffle and listen to the BBC SH adaptations for five days (couldn't watch Granada since I couldn't tell which of the two screens I was seeing was the real one) I started gathering ideas for this writing exercise I came up with using the familiar '221b'.
Challenge: Write a ficlet of exactly 221 words, the last word of which must start with the letter 'B'.
Anyone care to join me in the exercise, feel free to!
"You're late."
"Couldn't get Mrs. Cabernet out of my consulting room," I growled, collapsing wearily into the chair across the table from Sherlock Holmes.
"Who?"
"You wouldn't remember her. Stubborn old girl, insists she has everything from chronic pneumonia to consumption to today, a broken leg."
"What was it really?"
"Hypochondria. Sherry, please," I told the white-coated waiter who came to take my order.
Holmes chuckled lightly.
"I don't remember your practice being so busy in the old days, Watson."
"That's probably because I lost half my patients to Anstruther every time I went dashing off with you to heaven knows where," I replied dryly, scanning the menu quickly and giving my order, finally sitting back with a sigh.
Holmes scanned me carefully with that piercing grey gaze I had missed so badly in the last three years.
"You've been running yourself into the ground, old man."
"Perhaps," I sighed, " but you said yourself that work is the best antidote to sorrow."
"Well, yes, but not at the expense of your health, Watson!"
I glanced at the grey gaze and saw nothing but concern.
"Well, until two days ago I had no care whatsoever for my health, I shall freely admit," I replied tiredly.
"I've a solution for that, Watson, if you're willing."
Five days later, I was moving back.