A line in one of PGF's (as yet unpublished) oneshots inspired this, so many thanks for letting the bunny chew on me for a while:
Rain had been drowning the city for over a week, imprisoning his new acquaintance – no, more than that now – indoors, and by this point the poor fellow's bull-pup was about to choke itself on its own lead. He had no desire to be chewed to bits by it, and so had tactfully left it growling about the flat.
More out of whim than plan, in his semi-monthly foray into the local pawnshops (looking for items to aid in his disguises), he espied a handsome leather-bound volume of drivel that was selling for one-third its market value and impulsively added the item to his merchandise.
He returned home, dripping but thoroughly self-pleased; and after dumping the clothing and wigs in the middle of the sitting-room floor rooted through the pile for the buried paper-wrapped package, much to the invalided Doctor's amusement.
"What in the world are you going to do with this?" the latter asked dryly, holding up a beplumed (and obviously antiquated) item of headgear.
"No idea, but it's rather interesting, don't you agree? Where the devil is it…"
"It is hideous, that's what it is," the soldier declared.
"I've no intention of making it a indispensable component of my wardrobe, Doctor – ah!" He scrambled gracefully to his feet, holding the parcel aloft.
"And what is that?"
"It's for you," he muttered awkwardly, shoving the package at his new friend before pointedly busying himself about the room.
He could feel the stare of his fellow-lodger's astonishment, and felt his ears begin to burn. He was still rather new at this, and well aware of his clumsiness.
Paper-crinkling caused him to cautiously sneak a peek back over his shoulder, and the fellow's beaming countenance and smile sent a bizarre feeling of warmth through him that banished the chill of a miserably wet afternoon.
"My dear Holmes, this was entirely unnecessary," the Doctor protested, running a finger along the handsome binding.
"Most of that romantic claptrap is," he retorted, though ridiculously pleased by the reaction.
He received a by-now familiar tolerant eye-roll. "I meant your thoughtfulness in getting it, not the book itself."
"Oh…" That was novel. Fascinating. "I thought…you might want something to do if the rain keeps up," he finished somewhat lamely.
"Yes, indeed," the man replied ruefully, casting a sour glance at the dripping windowpanes. "Thank you very much, Holmes."
He squirmed uncomfortably and bobbed his head in a quick nod.
"Clark Russell," the Doctor read the spine thoughtfully. "Ever read him?"
"Good heavens, no. Never."
"Nor have I," he replied eagerly, entirely ignoring (or more likely not noticing) the detective's obvious disgust, and curled up in his armchair to begin.