Prompt from Ennui Enigma: Use the words: snow, star, violin in a story.
Watson was tired. After several long days at his practice dealing with a sudden flu outbreak, he'd hoped that tonight he'd be able to rest, but when Holmes had asked for his company on an adventure, Watson couldn't bring himself to refuse. He'd brought his gun in case the adventure turned dangerous, but at the last few hours had been more boring than anything else, waiting to see when a particular character would arrive at the house they were watching.
Despite his tiredness, the snow gently falling through the window was still enough to make him smile. "Doesn't the snow look nice tonight, Holmes?"
Holmes didn't look away for a moment, gaze intent on the house opposite. "By morning, the snow will be nothing more than grey slush, more suited to sending patients to your door with fall injuries than anything else."
Watson didn't take offence at his friend's pessimism, knowing it came from frustration at the continued absence of the man they were watching for. He should have arrived over an hour ago, yet they continued to wait, Holmes unwilling to miss him if he was simply late.
Watson's eyes fluttered closed, and he opened them again with an effort, casting his mind about for something to distract him from how much he wanted to be in bed. His eyes landed on the fog creeping in across the London sky. "No stars will be visible through that fog coming in."
Holmes looked at the weather and scowled. "And neither will our man." He jumped up, extending a hand to help Watson up, his old war wound having grown stiff with the cold. "Let's go, Watson! We'll have to return tomorrow night."
Watson groaned internally at the thought of another long night, but knew he would come anyway. Perhaps tomorrow night he could persuade Holmes to play his violin, and finally get some sleep.