December 1: "Hatpin" (from sirensbane)
A/N: Welcome back everyone! I'm so happy to be participating for my 10th year. An auspicious occasion! Big thank you to Hades for running it every year.
I'm feeling a little rusty (I haven't written since last December) and I couldn't really think of much of a storyline for this prompt. However, I did enjoy reading up a bit about the history of hatpins. Did you know that by the turn of the 20th century, it was common enough for women to use hatpins as impromptu self-defense weapons that in some places, their length was legally regulated? In 1910 in Chicago, a hatpin any longer than 9 inches would lead to an arrest and a $50 fine!
Anyway, I'm hoping reading everyone else's stories helps me get back into the Holmes writing groove. But for now, enjoy this:
"Well, what do you make of it, Watson?"
I was loath to stand from my comfortable armchair, so I twisted in my seat to peer over my shoulder and was taken aback when I saw an elegant and terribly tall woman standing in the door of Holmes' bedroom, dressed from head to toe in black. It took me a moment to register that it was my friend in women's dress. "Good heavens, Holmes. What is this about then?"
"What do you make of my appearance?" He flung his arms wide in a decidedly masculine manner, dark fabric straining a little at the shoulders.
"You're clearly in mourning," I replied as he crossed the room to stand before me. "Apprehending a criminal at a funeral, are we?"
"On the contrary," he replied, brandishing a lace fan, "I'm merely observing a criminal at a funeral."
"And I suppose you're attending as an inconceivably tall woman to remain inconspicuous?" I asked wryly.
"No, no," he replied, returning the fan to an equally black and equally stylish handbag. "The funeral will have enough attendees that I might blend in with ease in any number of guises. My quarry is a woman, so it will be easier to position myself within earshot if I attend likewise. I presume my height will make me intimidating enough to discourage approach that might lead to suspicion."
"And if you are suspected?"
"I have my charming manner," he replied, "and if that isn't enough—" He withdrew an ornate hatpin, much longer than I was accustomed to seeing, and flourished it. "An appropriate impromptu weapon."
I could only shake my head. "Whatever you say, Holmes."