Still on the side of the Angels

by deducethatsherlock

It's high summer in England and the middle of what the English call the silly season, and there is not a whiff of crime around to occupy Sherlock Holmes. Not feeling quite himself and uneasy about the lack of mental exercise he is getting, a surprising opportunity comes his way but first he has to come to trust his new client, who has to use a unique way of getting his attention.

26. Chapter 26

Chapter Twenty Six.

Half an hour later, both women were sitting comfortably in Sherlock Holmes living room, chatting as if they had known each other all their lives, and while Cassia shared memories and passed on various messages from Mrs Hudson's dearly departed loved ones, she sketched a portrait of the older woman on her pad.

That was how Sherlock Holmes found the pair an hour and a half later as he wandered, bleary eyed and still half asleep, into his living room, raking fingers through his unruly, sleep touselled hair and yawning loudly.

"Did you forget something, dear?" Mrs Watson was regarding him with a rather amused look on her face, Holmes realized as he moved deeper into the room. "Or do you want me to kiss it better?

"Mmmm?" He frowned, trying to push the fog of sleep from his brain, running his tongue over his dry lips.

"Trousers, dear," Mrs Hudson smirked and Holmes suddenly glanced down at his bare legs.

Damnation!

A hot wave of colour suddenly bloomed on his cheeks as Holmes realized that Cassia Ingram was sitting there trying to fight back a grin, and he quickly turned on his heels and marched out of the room, leaving both women chuckling at his receding back.

Holmes returned a few minutes later with his trousers now securely in place, belt fastened, waist band button done up and zipper closed, and a look of disdain on his face, by which time Mrs Hudson had made him a mug of tea.

"Good to see you've stopped snivelling, Mrs Hudson," he growled as he took the mug from her.

"Tuck your shirt in, dear. You look like no-one owns you."

Holmes heaved a deep sigh of exasperation, but set the mug down and ran his hand around the waistband of his trousers securing his shirt tails inside.

Cassia Ingram could not help smiling as she watched the exchange.

This was familiar territory to both of them and they were comfortable with each other.

"What did you do to your leg, dear?"

"Nothing. Isn't it time for the evening paper?"

"Time you learned some manners. You're not too old for a clout round the ears, young man."

"Newspaper, Mrs Hudson."

The older woman ignored Holmes gruff tone and now turned her attention back to Cassia Ingram.

"I had a lovely time, dear. Thank you so much. We'll have to do it again some time."

"Here," Cassia Ingram carefully tore the sheet of paper from her sketch pad and handed the portrait over to the older woman.

"Oh my, that's lovely. You're very good dear. Look, Sherlock. Isn't she clever?"

Holmes barely looked at the charcoal sketch as he sat down in his chair, careful not to pull the material of his trouser leg against the tight, sore burn on his leg, and reached out for his mug of tea.

"See you again, dear. And you, Sherlock, mind your manners. Ladies present, remember," she chastised as she left the two young people together to set out on her evening chores, shuffling along painfully slowly because her hip was giving her jip.

"And what the hell are those bloody willies doing in my fridge! On second thoughts, I really don't think I want to know..."