Prompt: From Chapter 1 of SIGN, I quote: "My practice has extended recently to the Continent," said Holmes after a while, filling up his old brier-root pipe. "I was consulted last week by Francois le Villard, who, as you probably know, has come rather to the front lately in the French detective service."
Have Holmes and Le Villard meet, either for the first time or at a different time; I've always wanted to see Holmes meet something of a rival other than the usual Dupin and so on.

A/N: I've gone through way too many drafts of this, beginning with something rather melancholy and introspective, and ending with something entirely different. While I think that the drafts have only improved as I've written them, I'm afraid I could not quite keep Holmes IC for the duration of the ficlet--I started to miss Watson and got distracted, doing some damage that I went back to and didn't know how to repair. I did my best, but my vision of Holmes is a bit out of focus for part of this. I'm afraid this is because my dad was watching the dramatized versions of PG Wodehouse's series about Bertie Wooster--Hugh Laurie is amazing!--and the atmosphere was less than usual for writing SH stories... But anyway... I don't think I could possibly write another draft, so we're stuck with this.

"It is a most delicate matter, Mr. Holmes," said Le Villard urgently through a heavy accent. "You must understand this--I am taking it on faith that you are an honourable man, and you will not tell anyone of what passed between us here, today."

Holmes wished he had his pipe. He wished he was back in Baker Street, too, as he found his rooms infinitely more comfortable to work in than this odd little cafe, but Le Villard had been most insistant. Holmes had considered turning the case down, but decided to meet with the man at the last moment. Still, he did not see why it was necessary to take their business outside Baker Street. Or the sense of urgency. The man was acting as though the case was of some great international importance, when in fact it was rather a simple matter involving a will. It always seemed to be wills.

Francois le Villard was really rather clever. He had an excellent talent for observation and deduction--a little less so than Holmes himself, but certainly far more than ordinary men. His dedication to justice was admirable, as was his determination. It was a pity that he did not have the extensive knowledge of crime that made Holmes himself so adept at seeing the patterns that emerged through criminal activity.

It was also rather a pity about the man's Nose.

Holmes knew perfectly well that his own nose was rather large and not his best feature, but this man... his Nose (which was quite deserving of the capital letter) was something else entirely. It was not so much disproportionate to his face as a separate entity altogether. He would not have been the least bit surprised if the Nose simply walked off Le Villard's face and pulled up a chair next to them. It was similar to seeing a victim of some terrible accident--you knew you shouldn't be staring, but you just couldn't look away.

"The case does hold several points of interest, I confess," said Holmes languidly. "This will, you say, was certainly the same document, kept in the same envelope?"

"Yes, because the creases corresponded perfectly, and there was a smudge of ink left on the inside," said Le Villard, nodding his Nose.

"So it would have had to be, of course, someone in the household who is not only familiar with where the documents are kept, but with the man's handwriting." Holmes steepled his fingers. How on earth did a man get a Nose like that, anyhow? That such a great, bulbous thing could ever appear on a human visage was somewhat unsettling. Thank heaven for my father's nose. He wondered vaguely how Le Villard had gotten through his school years with a Nose like that--perhaps it had not reached its full magnificence until his adult years. One could only hope so, as otherwise he would surely have been dreadfully unbalanced as an adolescent. The man must find it difficult enough to deal with now, of course--he was a genuinely good detective, but it was so difficult to tear one's attention away from the Nose.

Holmes realised that he had not been listening. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I said, this does not clear up the matter of who is to profit from the changing of the will," said the Nose.

"Because it was not altered in anyone's favour." Holmes gave a small smile. "In that case, you must eliminate the idea that the crime was perpetrated for financial gain. I doubt that the fellow who committed the crime meant for the servant to die, but I suspect he may have expected to be seen--placing the light in the window, after all, when he knew full well that the young lady would be up and about around that time." Holmes pulled out his notebook and scribbled down two case names. "I suggest you have a look at these--one at Riga in 1857, and the other at St. Louis in 1871. I daresay you may find them useful."

Le Villard took the piece of paper and, after glancing at the names again, slipped it into his pocket. "Have you any other advice to give me concerning this case?" he asked.

"Only that you pay close attention to the effects of this incident on the members of the family," Holmes responded. No doubt that would set the fellow on the right track. Le Villard was looking slightly confused, from what Holmes could see of his face around his Nose--apparently the cases were not familiar to him, but he would, no doubt, find the connection.

They sstood and said their farewells. "You will, of course, keep our business between ourselves?" Le Villard asked again, as he shook Holmes' hand.

"Oh, of course," said Holmes cheerfully. "Do let me know how the affair works out, will you? This case was certainly not without merit."

Le Villard nodded one last time to Holmes. "I shall indeed."

His Nose turned and left the cafe, Le Villard following close behind.

A week later, Holmes recieved a letter from France. Le Villard had been successful, and was altogether too appreciative of his help, expressing his gratitude in the grandest of terms. Holmes smiled as he read it--Le Villard overestimated his assistance. He himself was promising to be quite adept at the profession.

Holmes skimmed over the letter. Near the end, Le Villard expressed his hopes that they could work together more often in the future. Although Holmes was quite pleased with the other man's skills in the field of detection, he found it difficult to imagine working with him regularly. No doubt Holmes' own eccentricities would drive the fellow to insanity. And in any case, he doubted he could do his most effective work with the Nose constantly in his line of sight.

"Anything come for me, Holmes?" asked Watson as he entered with the paper.

"I'm afraid not, old fellow."

Watson shrugged and sat down with the paper. After a while, he became aware of Holmes staring at him. "What are you looking at?" he asked finally.

"Just your nose," said Holmes.

"Well, what about it?"

"Nothing about it." Holmes chuckled to himself. "There's absolutely nothing about it, my dear Watson."

Watson stared at his friend. "Are you quite all right, Holmes?"

"Perfectly, my dear Watson, perfectly. I have just become more appreciative of your visage of late."

Watson rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, Holmes."

A/N: Ahahahahaha, that was weird. In my earlier drafts I went more into the fact that Holmes was meeting with someone of his own profession, and there was more rivalry involved. But I had way more fun with this one, and anyway, the others weren't working out. Bizzare, but way too fun to write XD