Day 22 - From Hades Lord of the Dead: Listen to the song "Stolen Dance" by Milky Chance and write a story inspired by it.
A/N: A happier interpretation of the song, but I felt that Holmes and Watson deserved it.
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It was cold and dark out when we returned from investigating the latest case. Holmes was deep in thought, a frown on his face. Though we had uncovered a great deal of information, more questions had been raised than answers, and if Moriarty was indeed the culprit, it would be a long time before the case came to a conclusive end.
The lights were on at 221B, and warm air that smelled of Mrs Hudson's savory mincemeat pies greeted us as we stomped the snow from our boots in the entrance.
"I've kept your supper warm," Mrs Hudson yelled from the kitchen, over the sound of Miracle's playful yapping. "I'll bring it upstairs in a few moments."
Holmes and I trudged up the stairs, shedding our overcoats as the warmth reached us. The fire was still smoldering, and I added a few twigs and small logs to coax it back to life, as Holmes checked on his bees. Once a few tiny flames started licking up the sides of the log, I joined Holmes at the window.
Mrs Hudson brought our supper up shortly, a generous spread of mincemeat pie, steaming soup, and half a loaf of freshly baked bread. "You'll catch your death of cold one of these days staying out at all hours in the cold," she grumbled as she set down the food and swept back out of the room, her little dog happily at her heels the entire time.
My stomach began to grumble as I realized just how hungry I was. Later, after we had eaten our fill, I sprawled out on the armchair in front of the now roaring fire, and Holmes began tuning his violin.
"A man can consider his life a delightful one if he has this to come home to," I observed.
"It is gratifying to spend a time like this with those who care about you," Holmes admitted.
