A/N: Captain Thorneycroft Huxtable was a character from a previous story, When Sherlock Met The Other One. He stayed at Baker Street for a while when he was being blackmailed, and formed a bond with both John and Sherlock. He is an army captain, all round good egg, and has the alias of `Vincent Starrett` to protect his anonymity.
John H Watson blogs:
Hi there everyone, thanks for all of the excellent (and informative) comments and messages regarding my current thread. Sherlock does, however, insist that he hasn't yet been technically proven to have been late. Although, Sally, your suggestion was (wildly) amusing, we must regretfully discount it. Therefore, my followers, I am able to once again throw open to the floor the question of The Late Sherlock Holmes – fact or fiction?...
Let the tales commence – I am truly greedy for your words …
JHW
Private Message: From Thornycroft Huxtable
Hi John, loving the Blog and missing you and Sherlock. Robin sends his love and loved meeting you both at the wedding. Since you are looking for `late` anecdotes about Sherlock, why not mention the time he was late to our wedding? Am sure you must both have some happy memories about THAT! Come for dinner next week, and bring Mary and Molly. Your wife cracks me up, and Robin is a little bit in love with Molly Hooper.
Best wishes, Thorn.
The Adventure of the Aromatic Detective
(with assistance from Capt. V Starrett*)
Regular readers of the Blog will most probably recall The Case of The White Rose and The Silver Bullet last year, and the involvement of Captain Vincent Starrett*. Captain Starrett has recently seen fit to jog my memory regarding The Late Sherlock Holmes Challenge, and I recount the following tale for you now.
A warm May morning saw me calling in at Baker Street to rehash some notes about the South American Bolas case with Sherlock. Mrs Hudson handed me the post to take up to him which he flicked through in approximately ten seconds, labelling each:
"Boring … boring … libellous … boring … oh, not so boring, but limited … oh dear…"
The final comment was afforded to a stiff and expensive looking envelope, lined with gold paper and richly addressed with a cursive hand.
"What`s the matter? Professor Moriarty invited you to a garden party?" The missive certainly had the look of an invitation. And indeed it was.
"You know only too well what I think of weddings," muttered Sherlock Holmes, tossing the offending item across.
"Oh, Vincent and Joseph* are getting married – that is brilliant!"
"Enchanting."
My friend can occasionally affect to be a little curmudgeonly regarding events of this nature, but I knew he had formed a fondness for Vincent, and was affected by his happiness.
"I`ll put you down as a `yes` then?"
"Humpphh."
"Or – that, if you prefer."
X
"Mummy, it`s sooo pretty!"
Benedict Holmes, held by his mother, reached up a hand to touch the twinkling fairy lights that were intertwined between shimmering vines and luscious bunches of grapes hanging glamorously from the roof. Everything was glowing and twinkling in the early evening dusk, resembling Titania`s bower – a place of magic and bewitching possibilities.
"Yes, my darling, it really, really is."
Molly Hooper`s uplifted face was highlighted by the glow of a thousand twinkles. The heavy scent of lilies and roses hung evocatively in the wedding gazebo of Captain Starrett and Major Joseph Hope* and an elegant string quartet played Delibes` Lakmé: The Flower Duet,as waiters circulated with silver trays of crystal champagne goblets.
"Classy, Molly, very classy," Mary Watson had sidled up, in possession of an aforementioned glass and a fidgety three year old.
"Gotta admire the taste of these army guys – I was expecting camo nets and a marching band."
Molly laughed, and placed Ben on the floor to run off somewhere inappropriate with Sholto Watson.
"We could maybe relax and hope their daddies catch up with them before the ceremony starts." Mary glances across and notices Molly has an oddly familiar tense demeanour, in sharp contrast to the sweetness of her sugared almond coloured dress and hair bow.
"Ah, he`s not here yet, is he? John said he was on his way half an hour ago!"
Molly`s marmoset eyes glanced down to her watch and she scrunched up her nose. Sherlock had assured her that the Billingsgate Swindler was a man who had absolutely no idea he had been rumbled, and it was merely a matter of turning up and catching him in the act at the fish market. He was five foot one and over seventeen stone, therefore Sherlock felt confident a full on chase was not going to mess up his wedding attending timetable too much.
A formality.
A tying up of a case.
Most likely too, a chance to show off a bit, but she knew how much he loved that…
Fifteen minutes before vows were said and rings exchanged, and things didn't look too hopeful for Sherlock Holmes seeing any of it.
"Ah, I`ll just record it on my phone and he can watch it later… can`t imagine why he hasn't texted though."
X
Sherlock was only dimly aware that he was wearing his morning suit as he ducked and rolled beneath the gutting table. A huge tray of freshly iced fish had already been clattered to the ground and a billion shards of ice made purchase extremely difficult (particularly if one was wearing leather soled wedding brogues).
"You can`t prove a thing!"
The shrill cry of Georges Von Kramm, fishmonger and part time swindler belied his diminutive stature and generous girth and Sherlock cursed himself for not immediately recognising the calloused knuckles and thick wrists of a bare-knuckle wrestler. As he crawled from beneath the table (home, incidentally, to a hundred or so fish heads), it was only Sherlock`s own martial arts and boxing training that afforded him time to duck beneath the substantial swing of a forty pound tail of semi-frozen cod.
"Von Kramm, you are wasting your time! I have emailed all the data to Gregson at the Yard. Cars are on the way…"
Sherlock hates being interrupted more than anything, but he found himself to be unable to continue speaking as a seventeen stone ball of fish-scented fury rugby tackled his legs, causing both accuser and accusee to sprawl helplessly across the wet and icy concrete, into a gelatinous and coagulating heap of fish guts piled up in the corner.
It was only as Sherlock Holmes garnered his captor in a head lock and heard the approaching siren and screech of brakes, did he finally begin to consider his prior engagement and the current condition of his ensemble.
Lamentable.
X
The famous and talented Vitamin String Quartet had struck up `All You Need is Love` by the Beatles and a fevered and excited air of anticipation fluttered through the seated guests. Benedict sat in his own gilded chair rather than his mother`s lap and Molly had her phone ready and waiting. Suddenly, her hand was jostled by the curly head of a three year old climbing onto her knee.
"Ben, careful – I told you, you can have Daddy`s chair now, as he isn`t coming."
"Silly mummy," whispers Ben, astonishingly aware a whisper was in order, "Daddy`s he-yah…"
Murmurings and mumblings along the row and Molly Hooper`s eyes widen to see Sherlock Holmes sliding across towards her, seconds before the groom got level with them on his ponderous journey up the aisle. Sherlock was causing a regrettable degree of consternation, and as he neared, Molly`s olfactory senses began to detect why.
"Oh my God, Sherlock, what is that SMELL…?"
A wave of brine soaked putridity washed over as he landed in the seat beside her. Benedict`s eyes were wide in horror as he reached up to his father`s hair.
"Daddy, why have you got bones in your hair? You smell horrible!"
Sherlock is ineffectually dabbing at his lapels with tissues, but Molly already knows that suit will never, ever be free from the rancid Billingsgate odour.
Both Sherlock and Molly`s eyes are set dead ahead towards the happy spectacle unfolding before them in a vain attempt to play down the debacle, but it didn't stop Mary Watson leaning forward from the row behind and whispering through her massively inappropriate grin.
"Don`t look now, Sherlock Holmes, but I think there`s something fishy going on around here!"
And there is a polite round of applause as the music stopped and Captain Starrett reached the side of the man he loves.
*Names have been changed to protect identities
X
The Adventure of the Aromatic Detective
Comments: (18)
CTH: Oh, well done Doctor Watson! Just how I remember it!
JHW: I thank you Captain, for jogging my memory.
Mary Watson: Not bad; cod do batter!
G Lestrade: Ha ha! Now Mary, there is no need to carp on about it!
Mike Stamford: I can`t believe Sherlock was anything less than smart.
Mary Watson: He was as smart as a kipper, Mike!
Sally Donovan: Now everyone, this is a thread I`m seriously hooked on …
JHW: I feel torn about teasing like this though – kinda stuck between a Rock and a hard Plaice …
G Lestrade: Oh, you Bass-stard!
M Hudson: Oh, now, everyone – you are being really mean, picking on Sherlock. He did catch that bad fish man, and still made it to the wedding before it actually started.
Sherlock Holmes: Thank you, Mrs Hudson, for once, the voice of sanity. Without you, England would fall.
CTH: Sorry Sherlock, I was to blame for the story – I hope you can forgive me.
Sherlock Holmes: I think, after what I did to your wedding bower, we can call it even.
CTH: Very gracious, thank you Sherlock.
Mary Watson: Sorry, John, but I think Mrs Hudson is right – Sherlock wasn't technically late for the wedding.
JHW: Damn you Morstan, who`s side are you on?
Mary Watson: Sorry – didn't mean to be con-tench-ous!
Sherlock Holmes: Am disabling now everyone – better luck next time John.
X
A/N:
Arcoiris: `cheeky` indeed - some fun was in order!
Black Night: Thank you for review - much appreciated (I love the comments too!)