Prompt from TemporarilyAbaft - Sure, Holmes has got some irregular habits – tobacco in a slipper, for example. What's a strange eccentricity of the doctor's?

The Curious Habits of Doctor Watson

Dr. John Watson came through the door to the flat he shared with Mr. Sherlock Holmes late one snowy December afternoon, shaking the accumulation off his bowler and pulling his flannel muffler from around his neck.

"Beastly weather, Holmes," he commented and hung both items on the stand behind the door. "Holmes?"

Watson peered around the sitting room, but his flat mate was not in evidence. On Holmes' writing desk there was a stack of correspondence and a fresh sheet of paper with Holmes' ink pen lying diagonally across it. Watson stepped over to the doorway that gave onto Holmes' bedroom and looked inside. The detective was not there.

"Holmes?" Watson called a little louder. "Are you in, old man?"

"Up here, Watson," Holmes called down from Watson's room above.

"What are you doing in my room?" the doctor asked, though not in an accusatory manner.

"I was looking for your spare pot of ink," Holmes said as Watson stepped in. "I ran out and needed to refill my inkwell."

"Oh," Watson chuckled. "It's under the bed. No, no. The head of the bed."

Holmes fumbled for a moment and then came out with a large bottle of ink. He nodded his thanks and was on his way out the door when a thought struck him.

"Watson?"

"Yes, Holmes?"

"Why do you keep your spare ink under the bed?"

"Habit, I suppose," said the doctor and turned to examine his mustache in the mirror over his dresser.

"Habit?" Holmes asked. "When did you develop this habit?"

"I thought you were the detective, Holmes," Watson chuckled.

Holmes considered for a minute, reflecting on all of the things he knew about his friend.

"I would say it began when you were a boy," said Holmes, finally. "Schoolboys often need to keep such items from being, shall we say, borrowed. The more trouble it is for one of your friends to find the item they are looking for, the less likely it is to be borrowed."

"That's very good, Holmes," Watson said with a grin. "Only at my school we each had a desk with a lock. I kept such items in mine."

Holmes frowned at that and squinted at Watson questioningly.

"I began keeping my ink under my bed when I became an army surgeon," Watson told him. He was feeling rather pleased that his friend had deduced incorrectly for a change and felt that if he explained the real reason, Holmes would not brood over it for quite so long. "Among the first things I discovered upon reaching my quarters was the lack of living space. I sent many of my things back to my parents' home simply because there was no room for them."

"And that's when you began putting your ink under your bed?" Holmes asked dubiously.

"Oh, no, Holmes," Watson smiled. "When the army went on campaign."

"You put your ink under the bed so that no one would abscond with it while you were gone?" Holmes asked, groping for the correct explanation.

"No, Holmes," Watson said in a patiently admonishing tone. "The servants were quite trustworthy. Everyone else went with the army. But on campaign, you see, even officers must live in tents from time to time. Our tents were cramped. My cot was against one wall and Murray's was against the other. My writing desk, such as it was, was outside under a fly. It was Murray's idea to store my papers, pens and ink under my cot. Since the head of the cot was closest to the tent flap and my desk was just outside, I put my writing materials at that end."

"I see," Holmes said with a satisfied and approving nod. "Very orderly and logical."

"And just an old habit," Watson said with a smile.

"Yes. Well, I'll let you get freshened up, shall I?" Holmes said and turned to go, but paused again, looking back over his shoulder.

"What is it, Holmes?" Watson asked, the corner of his mouth curving up slightly.

"I was wondering why you put your spare pens on the lintel of your door," said Holmes.

Watson chuckled and sat down on his bed, ready to explain every detail of his old habits if it took all night. This was rather fun.