Scribbled this random idea on the back of a church bulletin tonight whilst I was bored in an over-dramatized business meeting. (shrug) Yes, it is completely random.
Sherlock Holmes was to collaborate with Inspector Lestrade at the close of the latter's meeting; said meeting was running long. Had the detective known the ten minutes would turn into thrice that, he would have waited elsewhere. As it was, he was trapped and fidgeting, listening to the Yard's Shortest drone onward. Watson sat, infuriatingly calmly, beside him, occasionally sending a warning glare when the detective cleared his throat too-loudly.
Holmes was halfway through a very unflattering caricature of Lestrade when the pencil was snatched from his twitchy hands and sent scribbling across the opposing page.
Stop rolling your eyes every time the man makes a point. It's quite rude, you know.
Wasting my time is more rude, Doctor. If another constable asks Lestrade a question of the last idiot's calibre, I shall throw my pocket-knife at him.
Open?
He shall be glad there is a Doctor in the house.
I didn't bring my bag.
Good, then there will be one less imbecile to grace these revered halls. Do you suppose I could hit Constable Cummings from here with a spitwad?
Without being caught? No. Stop that sniggering, Lestrade's glaring at us.
Let him. Do you still have that horrid Mrs. Hench to tend this evening?
Unfortunately, yes.
Let the old trout see Anstruther, and go to dinner with me.
You buying?