A/n: I don't know what it is, but…there's something special in this one. I can't explain, but I love it!
"I was right, was I not, Watson?" Holmes grinned triumphantly, accepting his drink from the bartender and guiding me to a table in the sun. "I knew you'd like this place."
I nodded approvingly. "The design is wonderful, especially that wooden banister on the landing. Lovely carving... how long have you been coming here?"
Holmes' eyes had already fixed themselves on the tabletop; he ran his finger along the grain a few times, lips moving silently, before he dug out his measuring tape. I watched him, gradually becoming aware of the table behind us.
"It's just as well you don't get the Strand; the newest story by Dr. Watson is worse than ever. Treacle? Why, I could have spread it on my bread!"
My content smile grew stiff, and I set down my drink quietly, with an unsteady hand.
Holmes paused as my drink intersected his line of vision, and looked up. I could only look back miserably, feeling myself flush as the men grew even louder and ruder.
There was a clatter as Holmes threw down the measuring tape, stood up and strode past me, rolling up his sleeves.
I turned around quickly to watch.
"Pardon me, gentlemen," Holmes said icily. "I highly recommend you find a new form of amusement--unless, that is, you're in the mood for boxing."