From Wordwielder - White Christmas
"It has been far too long since I saw a white Christmas," Watson mused one evening in our Baker Street living room. It was the 22nd of December, and there had been several flurries of snow that day. "Why, the last must have been in Aberdeen!"
My curiousity was piqued. It was rare for Watson to speak of his upbringing. Indeed it was only in January of this year, when I complimented his accent as he recited a poem on Burns night, that he had revealed to me his Scottish heritage. I was truly vexed, and he far too amused, saying that his elocution lessons must have indeed paid off.
"How old were you?" I probed, for he had lapsed into a thoughtful silence.
"I would have been... goodness, about 13?" He huffed a laugh. "Much has changed since then. I would never have believed it."
"Indeed, you can almost pass for an Englishman."
His moustache twitched in a mischievous grin. "Almost? As I understood it I had fooled even the great Sherlock Holmes!"
I chose not to comment on that. "Do you miss the colder climes of Scotland?"
"I miss the people, on occasion. London can be a very lonely place, if the circumstances deem it so." I suspected he was referring to his time convalescing before we had roomed together, so chose not to comment on that either. "After my time in Afghanistan I think the cold would be too much. The Irregulars would at enjoy the snow though, it truly is great fun."
His tone had turned wistful and I let him return to his thoughts and memories. I could not help but wonder, when he referred to people, if he meant the Scottish population in general - who I am told are somewhat warmer than us Southerners - or someone more specific. I watched as he pulled out his pocket watch and checked the time. It was a habit he had developed only recently, and the watch itself a recent acquisition. I had my suspicions about its previous owner, for it was clearly a battered heirloom, but I would not be able to make any concrete conclusions until I got a closer look.
I picked up my violin and began to tune it. I would have to solve the mystery of my reflective flatmate later.