LONDON PIT STOP
Lestrade suggested that they first make a "pit stop" back to New London to check up on how things were going during their absence. They could also pick up items they now knew they needed, like American clothes, disguises, and such. And, the two could use a bit of New London fog, anyway, and so Holmes soon had them in front of Lestrade's flats. Holmes dropped her off and headed for Baker Street. His close robot friend Watson was overjoyed to see him, having been forced into a melancholy boredom when his only companion and his favorite Scotland Yard Inspector left for a trip together.
"Holmes! My good chap! How are you? And Inspector Lestrade?" The robot immediately brightened up at the sound of Holmes' voice again speaking in that suave, well-mannered tone. Watson received a short summary of the adventures, and Holmes, being at least half Victorian gentleman, left out a few parts. But Watson still heard of Fenwick's involvement, and announced with firmness, "Holmes, you and the Inspector are too valuable to me for me to sit here while the two of you put yourself in danger continuously. Tell me what I can do to help you!" Sherlock smiled when he heard of the robot's boredom and sudden emotion. And John Watson thought I was without feeling. He thought to himself. Holmes patted Watson on the back, assuring him friendly that he would be called when the two detectives needed him. The robot cheered up immensely, but soon realized that Holmes' pledge meant that he and Lestrade would be heading out again. He gave a noticeable sigh, but helped Holmes pack in silence.
Watson broke the stillness again, "I say, Holmes! It seems like your trip was an extremely exciting one. But, I do believe you left some parts out of your story." Sherlock flushed at the ears, and asked softly why Watson would think that. Watson, who greatly enjoyed a chance to improve his observation skills, proceeded with a lecture of his own. "Well you aren't the only one with deductive powers, Holmes! When you arrived at the part in your tale about how the errant robot captured you, you did not go into detail about how you 'cleverly escaped'. I know from experience that you enjoy above all things to tell your stories with specific detail, since you pride yourself in your quick mind. And, I might add, your ears turned a deep shade of red, just as they are doing now."
Sherlock Holmes' face colored this time. He sighed with a shrug of his thin shoulders. "Watson, I have often told how I felt about giving explanations of things, it quite gives away the majesty of the whole thing, and a magician without tricks is no magician at all. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico.' What you have said is true, and I hope that you will accept my humble apology. It seems that I can no longer lie - well, I mean, ah. That I can no longer twist the truth effectively." Watson, being a robot AND a gentleman, accepted Holmes' apology (he knew how hard it was for him to do it) and listened to the part Holmes had conveniently left out when he and Lestrade had escaped the robot. When he finished, Watson laughed heartily and Holmes smiled weakly.
"Bet you enjoyed that, eh, old fellow?" Watson grinned knowingly and before Holmes could stop himself he grinned back. Although he and the John Watson of old had been roommates and friends for life, they had never delved deeply into the subject of "the fair sex". It was strange that they should do so now, when the time period was so different but everything else the same as before. But it was about time anyway.
Beth Lestrade met up with Sherlock at the only Scotland Yard office in New London, as they had arranged before parting. The other offices were being rebuilt, and recruitment officers were scouting the population for new, eligible inspectors. It was hard, since news of what happened to erstwhile officers had spread quickly, and the Yard's Academy had had huge drops of applications. But there were still people eager to be a Yardie, and Grayson had to make media appearances everyday to promote being one. Lestrade shook her head; it was a rough time for the Yard, and she wasn't there to help. It was nice not too have too much on your mind like Grayson and her other coworkers, but she felt guilty for not being there. As she spotted the two friends in the office, Lestrade was curiously interested to see Holmes and Watson laughing heartily with a kind of masculine secrecy crossing their face when they saw her. Making a mental note of asking Holmes about it afterwards, they continued on together to Grayson's office. The trio found the Chief in conversation with a beautiful young lady.
She had brownish blonde hair tied back in a haphazard way, as if not for style but to keep the hair out of her face. Around her straightly poised neck there hung a thing chain of silver with an angel charm, which rested on her chest peacefully. She had naturally pink lips, which matched the flush on cheeks that were dotted with freckles. She sat straight and proud in a queenly sort of pose, but her gaze was unbiased and innocent. Her eyes were a strange color - they were bluish, but not quite, for there were bits of green as well. You couldn't decide on a color after just a glance, and you had to stare at the eyes for quite some time, trying to figure out the puzzle behind them. Holmes, Watson, and even Lestrade found herself looking into the woman's eyes, and Sherlock cleared his throat for an introduction. Grayson picked up the signal and announced crisply, "This is Ms. Melanie Dawson - she came in just now to tell me that she was at one of the Scotland Yard offices which were. in the accident. Ahem, she has just started her story, and if you care to join us I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Grayson looked with discomfiture at the three, for there weren't any chairs to seat them, and Melanie Dawson seemed to fidget uncomfortably after the Great Detective's arrival. Nonetheless, she told her story from the beginning.
Lestrade suggested that they first make a "pit stop" back to New London to check up on how things were going during their absence. They could also pick up items they now knew they needed, like American clothes, disguises, and such. And, the two could use a bit of New London fog, anyway, and so Holmes soon had them in front of Lestrade's flats. Holmes dropped her off and headed for Baker Street. His close robot friend Watson was overjoyed to see him, having been forced into a melancholy boredom when his only companion and his favorite Scotland Yard Inspector left for a trip together.
"Holmes! My good chap! How are you? And Inspector Lestrade?" The robot immediately brightened up at the sound of Holmes' voice again speaking in that suave, well-mannered tone. Watson received a short summary of the adventures, and Holmes, being at least half Victorian gentleman, left out a few parts. But Watson still heard of Fenwick's involvement, and announced with firmness, "Holmes, you and the Inspector are too valuable to me for me to sit here while the two of you put yourself in danger continuously. Tell me what I can do to help you!" Sherlock smiled when he heard of the robot's boredom and sudden emotion. And John Watson thought I was without feeling. He thought to himself. Holmes patted Watson on the back, assuring him friendly that he would be called when the two detectives needed him. The robot cheered up immensely, but soon realized that Holmes' pledge meant that he and Lestrade would be heading out again. He gave a noticeable sigh, but helped Holmes pack in silence.
Watson broke the stillness again, "I say, Holmes! It seems like your trip was an extremely exciting one. But, I do believe you left some parts out of your story." Sherlock flushed at the ears, and asked softly why Watson would think that. Watson, who greatly enjoyed a chance to improve his observation skills, proceeded with a lecture of his own. "Well you aren't the only one with deductive powers, Holmes! When you arrived at the part in your tale about how the errant robot captured you, you did not go into detail about how you 'cleverly escaped'. I know from experience that you enjoy above all things to tell your stories with specific detail, since you pride yourself in your quick mind. And, I might add, your ears turned a deep shade of red, just as they are doing now."
Sherlock Holmes' face colored this time. He sighed with a shrug of his thin shoulders. "Watson, I have often told how I felt about giving explanations of things, it quite gives away the majesty of the whole thing, and a magician without tricks is no magician at all. 'Omne ignotum pro magnifico.' What you have said is true, and I hope that you will accept my humble apology. It seems that I can no longer lie - well, I mean, ah. That I can no longer twist the truth effectively." Watson, being a robot AND a gentleman, accepted Holmes' apology (he knew how hard it was for him to do it) and listened to the part Holmes had conveniently left out when he and Lestrade had escaped the robot. When he finished, Watson laughed heartily and Holmes smiled weakly.
"Bet you enjoyed that, eh, old fellow?" Watson grinned knowingly and before Holmes could stop himself he grinned back. Although he and the John Watson of old had been roommates and friends for life, they had never delved deeply into the subject of "the fair sex". It was strange that they should do so now, when the time period was so different but everything else the same as before. But it was about time anyway.
Beth Lestrade met up with Sherlock at the only Scotland Yard office in New London, as they had arranged before parting. The other offices were being rebuilt, and recruitment officers were scouting the population for new, eligible inspectors. It was hard, since news of what happened to erstwhile officers had spread quickly, and the Yard's Academy had had huge drops of applications. But there were still people eager to be a Yardie, and Grayson had to make media appearances everyday to promote being one. Lestrade shook her head; it was a rough time for the Yard, and she wasn't there to help. It was nice not too have too much on your mind like Grayson and her other coworkers, but she felt guilty for not being there. As she spotted the two friends in the office, Lestrade was curiously interested to see Holmes and Watson laughing heartily with a kind of masculine secrecy crossing their face when they saw her. Making a mental note of asking Holmes about it afterwards, they continued on together to Grayson's office. The trio found the Chief in conversation with a beautiful young lady.
She had brownish blonde hair tied back in a haphazard way, as if not for style but to keep the hair out of her face. Around her straightly poised neck there hung a thing chain of silver with an angel charm, which rested on her chest peacefully. She had naturally pink lips, which matched the flush on cheeks that were dotted with freckles. She sat straight and proud in a queenly sort of pose, but her gaze was unbiased and innocent. Her eyes were a strange color - they were bluish, but not quite, for there were bits of green as well. You couldn't decide on a color after just a glance, and you had to stare at the eyes for quite some time, trying to figure out the puzzle behind them. Holmes, Watson, and even Lestrade found herself looking into the woman's eyes, and Sherlock cleared his throat for an introduction. Grayson picked up the signal and announced crisply, "This is Ms. Melanie Dawson - she came in just now to tell me that she was at one of the Scotland Yard offices which were. in the accident. Ahem, she has just started her story, and if you care to join us I'm sure she wouldn't mind." Grayson looked with discomfiture at the three, for there weren't any chairs to seat them, and Melanie Dawson seemed to fidget uncomfortably after the Great Detective's arrival. Nonetheless, she told her story from the beginning.