A/N: Hey friends! Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it. I seem to have dropped off the map for most of the month; I've not been doing my best mental health wise - heck of a year and all that. So I regret not being able to read all of your wonderful entries! I hope you're all doing as well as possible. As for my own writing here, I've decided to get creative and still see if I can still address all of the prompts these final few days of December if I do them in combination. Enjoy the ride with me! :)


December 4: "The Hot Chocolate Conundrum" (from Michael JG Meathook)

December 9: "Sherlock Holmes uses his sense of smell to solve a mystery" (from goodpenmanship)

December 15: "Sherlock Holmes makes upgrades to his laboratory" (from goodpenmanship)

December 16: "Snow storm" (from mrspencil)

December 18: "Listen to 'Joy' by Poppy Rose and write a story inspired by it" (from Hades Lord of the Dead)


Winters day, blue sky

Sunshine but it's negative five

What a beautiful morning

– from "Joy" by Poppy Rose


The morning was frigid but clear when Watson left for his rounds. Mrs. Hudson was visiting her sister, and would not be back for a couple of days. Having just completed a particularly exhausting case, Holmes slept until the sun was as high in the sky as it would go in midwinter, though it was invisible once the heavy clouds not rolled in shortly after Watson's departure.

A cold bit of bread would do for breakfast, he thought, as he stole down to the kitchen in his robe and slippers. The kitchen equipment was strictly off limits, ever since, well, multiple incidents, which will not be recounted here. But no matter. He returned to the sitting room, bread in hand, munching steadily. He had new lab equipment to set up! A Bunsen burner, and a few new beakers and flasks, purchased just before that most recent case began. He glanced out the window to see the snow falling thick and fast.

Half an hour later found Holmes' equipment set up, and the man himself in a chair by the fire, reading. Then, a ring at the bell— several rings, in fact. And Holmes would know that faint raucous noise anywhere: the Baker Street Irregulars! He went down to the door and let them in. The dozen-odd boys followed him joyfully upstairs.

"Mr 'Olmes! Mr. 'Olmes!" exclaimed a little red headed lad. "Could we have some hot chocolate? It's mighty cold out there."

Holmes hesitated for a moment, and Wiggins chimed in. "Cor, Tom, Mr. 'Olmes isn't allowed in the kitchen on account o', well, multiple incidents."

"I am allowed to be in the kitchen, Mrs. Hudson simply prefers that I not use any of her cooking or baking implements," Holmes amended. "But no matter— I have the perfect solution. You boys can still have your hot chocolate." He fetched the cocoa from the kitchen, and set some water boiling in one of the new flasks over the new burner.

Some time later when the boys were settled (or at least as settled as they were capable of being), Wiggins spoke up again. "We've got a bit of a mystery for you, Mr. 'Olmes," he said, his tone playful.

"And what might that be?" Holmes asked, mixing another mug and handing it eagerly to a waiting Irregular. Even the world's greatest detective could only heat so much water at a time using a chemistry set.

"We've brought you a gift," said Tom.

"Ah!" replied Holmes. "And I'm to deduce what it is, I suppose?"

Wiggins nodded. "No clues either."

Holmes cocked his head and slowly ran his gaze across the eager boys, some slurping hot chocolate and others (who had already finished their mugs) fidgeting with this or that, all eyes expectantly on him.

Just then, the door opened and Watson entered, covered in a light dusting of snow, which he brushed off his shoulders. "How wonderful to see you boys!" he exclaimed. "And Holmes, I see you've gotten creative, since being banned from the kitchen after those, well, multiple incidents."

Holmes smiled. "Naturally. Would you like a mug, my dear fellow?"

"Certainly," Watson replied.

"Now," said Holmes, "while you boys have done a marvelous job hiding all traces of this gift from your persons, I'm afraid there's one thing you did not count on."

"And what's that?" asked Wiggins.

"My sense of smell is excellent. It was very sweet of you to bring me my favorite kind of pie—apple."

There was an explosion of noise— some of the boys cheering or clapping, others groaning in mild disappointment that they had not thought of that possibility, and Tom, in the back of the group, revealing the carefully wrapped up pie from inside of the grubby satchel that was hidden behind him. The boys passed it to Holmes who flashed a smile and set it graciously upon the table where he worked.

The last of the water had come to a boil and Holmes poured mugs for himself and the good doctor.


In this moment time blissfully content

One hundred percent

This is joy, joy

– from "Joy" by Poppy Rose


A/N: Fun fact! I've had hot chocolate in a beaker. I didn't use a Bunsen burner to heat it, though. Maybe someday…