2nd Dec: From Domina Temporis: A large bug is found in 221B Baker Street.
"God in Heaven!"
I jumped instantly from my chair at Holmes's exclamation - there was not much that could so shake his composure as to induce such a shaky, panicked cry - but when I saw the cause of his distress, I could not help but laugh.
"I fail to see what is so funny." He had curled up in his armchair, yanking the edges of his dressing gown up so there was no chance of contamination from the cockroach that scuttled harmlessly enough across the living room floor. "They are pests, full of disease. Where is your revolver?"
"Holmes," I scolded. "That will hardly be necessary."
He watched in unconcealed horror and, I liked to think, awe as I took the creature with my bare hands and dumped it out the window.
"Dear God."
"It's not as though you haven't touched worse!"
"Worse is debatable." He made to lower his feet back to the ground, but seemed to think better of it, the memory perhaps still lingering. "You are made of sterner stuff than I can fathom, Watson."
I could not help but glow a little at the compliment. The rest of the afternoon passed in a relaxed and mercifully insect-free fashion.
