Happy Valentine's Day everyone! I had been thinking of a V day fic, but then realized a Valentine's Day murder didn't really fit the whole lovey, cupid stuff. So how about this little fluffy story instead? I think it's rather adorable.
Oh, and Elspeth is my own little character, should she reappear again?
"Would you care for another cup of tea, Mr. Holmes?"
Mrs. Hudson's granddaughter, Elspeth asked politely. Elspeth had been spending a school holiday in the care of her grandmother, but Mrs. Hudson had had to do the week's shopping and had left the blonde, blue eyed little girl of seven in the care of her two bachelor tenants.
It hadn't taken more than ten minutes to deduce that while Elspeth was more or less in awe of the broody detective, the feelings of infatuation were not returned by the later. While Holmes regarded the books on the shelves with a cool gaze, Elspeth had stared adoringly.
"Mr. Holmes, would you care to join the doctor and I for a tea party?"
"A what?" Holmes nearly dropped the book he was holding and stared first at the little girl then at me. "Watson, you agreed to this?"
"Well," I said haltingly. "We were given the task to look after the little girl, and I found it only polite to agree."
Holmes scowled in my direction before composedly placing the book back on the shelf. "I'm afraid I haven't time for a tea party. My presence is required elsewhere at the moment."
Elspeth's large blue eyes begin to fill with tears. "Oh, but Mr. Holmes! I do wish you would join us! It would hardly be any fun at all without you. And Mr. Bumble was so looking forward to hearing of one of your cases."
"Mr. Who?"
"Her stuffed rabbit." I explained. "I've been told he is quite a fan of your work."
"Then read one of your stories." Holmes said carelessly. "Their romantic witticism is perfect for company."
"No, no!" Elspeth interjected before I could retort. "While Mr. Bumble and I adore Doctor Watson's stories, he would much prefer an account from you personally."
I thought I caught a faint look of pride before it was quickly extinguished and replaced with a glum look. "Very well," Holmes consented with a well placed sigh. "I suppose I could enlighten you with a bit of my work. Purely educational I assure you. Stuffed rabbits must be made well aware of the danger that lurks on London's streets."
Elspeth clapped her hands joyfully. "Oh yes! How very true! Now, if you would all join me over here, I have a lovely place set for us."
While Elspeth and I chatted away on the various topics that tend to surface at such occasions, Holmes sat somewhat impatiently and half listened as Elspeth and I discussed the poor health of her stuffed dog. I had just prescribed plenty of water and lots of rest for the creature before Holmes rather rudely slammed his tea cup against the table.
"Is this all you two can talk about?" He cried. "The dog is made of fabric! It would drown if she tried to give it water!"
Elspeth regarded the detective with a cool gaze that she has obviously learned from him. "I do believe, Mr. Holmes, that Doctor Watson holds a bit more knowledge on the subject of treating patients than you. If you would care to wait until we are finished discussing the topic, we would gladly hear one of your stories."
"Excuse me?" Holmes spluttered as I took a sip of tea to hide my grin. "I was not informed that I was to be the last resort of entertainment! I was told you and that stuffed rabbit had invited me to your party and that I was to be the guest speaker. Making me go last is hardly polite."
"Oh you are quite right." Elspeth agreed, in a quite grown up voice. "Where are my manners? Mr. Holmes, you may tell us a story now."
Holmes's smug grin faded at the word 'story' but he rose from the table and lighting his pipe, began:
"It first came to my attention, some months ago, in fact, Mr. Bumble couldn't have possibly been more than a baby at the time of this occurrence, of a case extraordinary, so beautiful in its web of secrets that I failed to come to a complete understanding of its intricacies until it was almost too late. You see, I was lying face down in the mud in one of London's backwater alleys that the answer finally came to me. But I am falling into Watson's habit of telling a story backwards. Let me start from the beginning…."
When Mrs. Hudson returned from her errand, she found the house's occupants spellbound as the detective, wild eyed and gesturing with excitement rehearsed one of his cases as only he could do.