Angry at Cruel Words

-Holmes' POV-

"My shirt!" Mr. Brown cried as the brandy soaked his sleeve.

I watched astonished as Watson continued walking. I had never seen him so rude. Usually I was the one to be disagreeable. I helped Mr. Brown mop up the spill and heard Watson go downstairs. I looked out the window and saw him leave. Part of me wanted to go after him, but I knew Watson needed time to calm down. I would see the client off swiftly and await Watson's return.

"That man is hardly the sort I pictured you associating with," Mr. Brown said.

I whirled on the man and pounded my fist on the table.

"If you ever talk about my friend that way again, Mr. Brown, I shall personally burn your store to the ground! I will not have you speak so towards him again! Is that clear?" I yelled.

He swallowed nervously and nodded.

"Good, now leave!" I said.

"But what about the man—"

"Write the facts down and send them to me!" I hissed.

He quickly got up and left, looking a little disgruntled. I sat down and waited for Watson's return. I got the letter from Mr. Brown, but hardly read it. I was in no mood for thinking over facts. I wanted Watson and I to be in status quo ante bellum.