"Mr. Holmes?"
"Come in, Mrs. Hudson!" Holmes called, looking up from the chemistry experiment he was bent over as she entered. "A visitor, is it?"
"Yes, Mr. Holmes."
"A client?"
Mrs. Hudson nodded. "A very pretty young woman, but a sad story. A missing husband is her problem, and I'm very much afraid this one will turn out to be another rogue and dastardly man who has run off on her though she refuses to believe it."
"Mrs. Hudson?" Holmes said, raising one eyebrow. "I've never known you to be so cynical before! Where has this new attitude of yours come from? And why are you grinning like there is some joke afoot?"
She shook her head, clearly amused by something. "I just have a feeling," she said, "that you'll need to thoroughly thrash this young lady's man when you find him. Leaving her all alone like that. For shame."
That was when the woman in question entered, and Holmes couldn't help but be a bit amused as well.
"My dear lady," he said as he pulled off his gloves and goggles and heavy chemistry apron, "I am, I assure you, completely at your disposal." He moved around the chemistry set and bowed to her. "Mrs. Hudson says your husband is missing?"
"That is quite correct," the lady said. "He disappeared nearly an hour ago. Mr. Holmes, you must help me. I fear he's in dire need of rescuing."
"I shall do what I can," he promised. "But I'm afraid, as Mrs. Hudson pointed out to me, your husband is a notorious rogue. You may give me the information you have, but I cannot guarantee an pleasurable outcome."
Mrs. Mary Watson stayed serious. "I believe I have all the information you may need, sir. His name is John Watson, and he was last seen being taken away by another man. John was supposed to have an early day and be home for lunch, but instead has been spirited away, perhaps kidnapped, for he would not abandon me willingly no matter how rougish you think him."
"And do you have a description of this other man who accosted him?"
"Even better. I have a name: Mike Stamford."
Holmes rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "In that case, ma'am, I'm afraid I have good news and bad news."
"The bad news first, please," Mary requested.
"My dear lady, are you quite sure you want the gruesome details?"
"I am not a squeamish woman, Mr. Holmes. Whatever fate has befallen my husband, I must know."
"Very well, then. The bad news is that Mike Stamford is a dark and dangerous man who kidnaps friends and strangers alike and holds them ransom for the price of lunch over the course of a few hours."
"Oh my! And the good news?"
"Ah, yes. The good news is I'm sure your husband will be released after he has paid for enough of his kidnapper's drinks. Despite the fact your husband is a ruffian, I have every reason to believe he is an honest one. You will never have to worry that he has left you for another woman or that you will find him in someone else's home. I'm sure he'll be returned to you in a few hours unharmed in body, if not in mind and wallet."
Mary laughed, her serious facade finally breaking. "Ruffian though John may be, I do love him. Won't you please go rescue him, Mr. Holmes? I'm so sorry to have to ask again."
"Of course I will," Holmes assured her. "Stamford is going to get suspicious soon, though. What is this? The third time in as many months I've bailed the poor man out with some made-up case? Stamford must be running out of other friends to trick into buying him a free lunch. And poor Watson feels he can't refuse every time, mostly because it was Stamford who introduced us. I'll have him home within the hour."
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes."
"Bring him here," Mrs. Hudson chimed in. "Mary and I will make some lunch."
Sherlock Holmes looked to Mrs. Watson, who smiled. "That sounds perfect," she said.
"Then consider it done," Holmes assured her. He bowed with a flourish, and left on his quest. It was a simple one which required no duels or bloodshed, only a polite interruption of Watson and Stamford's lunch and his hand on Watson's arm, dragging him out before Stamford could guilt him into paying like he had a long time ago when Watson had been injured and ill and was desperate for company. It had been money well spent back then, however, and John Watson himself would have been the first to say it, especially when he sat down with his wife and dearest friends and was reminded of all he'd gained from that small investment.
For the prompt from goodpenmanship: an unlikely client.
The author's apologies to all the Stamford fans out there.