Dec 11's prompt was from cjnwriter: A character makes a drastic change that shocks others.

Silliness, mostly. Enjoy!


I approached Baker Street cautiously, picking my way around the ice. The door was unlocked; I stepped inside, sighing at the immediate warmth.

"Mrs. Hudson? Holmes?"

I took off my coat and scarf, hanging them by the door. My boots dripped puddles onto the floor. I wiped them on the mat, guilty.

The clicking of polished shoes came around the corner. Mrs. Hudson appeared.

I smiled. "Hello, Na-"

She screamed.

"Who are you? How did you get in here?" She came closer, brandishing a feather duster with a considerable amount of violence. "I'll have you know that we are personal friends with the Captain of the Scotland Yard. I suggest you leave at once."

I backed a few steps away, putting my hands up. "Nanny, it's me. Watson."

Mrs. Hudson frowned. "Watson who?"

"John Watson!" I cried. "For Heavens' sake, I live here!"

Mrs. Hudson's eyes narrowed. She looked me up and down. "You don't look a thing like John Watson. He has a moustache."

"I had a moustache, I just shaved." I stepped forward and she jabbed me with the feather duster, sending dust flying into my face. I sneezed and spluttered. "N-Nanny, please. Just send for Holmes."

"And leave you alone to help yourself to our home? Unlikely, sir." She seized my arm and dragged me up the stairs. "Holmes!"

Holmes's long-suffering sigh was audible through the door. "What is it this time, Mrs. Hudson?"

She swung the door open and thrusted me inside. "This young rouge just appeared in our entryway. He claims to be Doctor Watson. Do you recognise him?"

Holmes was smoking and reading. He set down his book, holding his pipe in one hand, and examined me. For a moment, his face was written with confusion.

"Watson?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "Yes, Holmes, it's me."

His expression cleared and he stood. "Capital. I would have hated to go through the trouble of dispatching the impostor." He circled around me twice. "You look different. What have you changed?"

"I shaved. That's all."

Holmes grinned. "Oh, of course! I see it now. Hm... The moustache suited you better, I must say."

"Thank you," I said dryly. "Now. I received a message on my way here. Lestrade needs us at a crime scene."

Holmes clapped his hands together. "Wonderful. We can leave at once."


Holmes and I trudged away from the crime scene.

After three, "We can't have civilians here, Holmes!"

Two, "What are you doing? Who is that?"

And one, "He can't be Doctor Watson! He's hideous!"

We'd been kicked off the scene.

I kicked at a rock dolefully. "I'm sorry about the case, Holmes."

He waved it off. "Don't trouble yourself. If they really need me, they'll come back." He eyed me sideways, wry. "You'd best get to work on regrowing that moustache, though, old chap."

I sighed, my smile sheepish. "Yes, I guess I had better."