Sorry for the delay in posting, it has been a very busy holiday season! I'm still aiming to finish the challenge in time, though I may still be answering reviews and catching up on everyone else's stories even into the New Year. Anyway, on with the story!
Prompt from BookRookie12: "I need a sock. No, not a pair of socks. *A* sock, singular."
"What on earth are you looking for, Holmes?" Watson twisted around in his chair to look at Holmes, who was pacing up and down the room, hunting for something with increasing desperation.
"I need a sock," Holmes told him distractedly, still searching. He began lifting up items on the mantelpiece, moving them and then replacing them with a frustrated expression.
"Wouldn't your bedroom be a better place to look?" Watson asked.
Holmes ignored him, carrying on searching.
Watson blew out a breath of frustration. "If you really need socks, you can get some from my bedroom. I'm sure you already know where I keep them."
Holmes still ignored him.
"Or I can get a pair." Watson groaned internally at the thought of leaving his comfortable spot by the fire, particularly in this cold weather. The cold had always made his old injuries particularly painful, but when Holmes was in a mood like this, he often needed an outside distraction to break him out of it.
Slowly, Watson began to struggle to his feet, but almost immediately Holmes interrupted him. "No, not a pair of socks. A sock, singular. In particular, the sock of the late Duchess Albright."
Watson slumped gratefully back into his armchair, looking at Holmes with interest. "Was there something particular about the sock?"
"One or two points of interest," Holmes said, stopping his search to look at him, "on which, if my suspicions are correct, the whole case may rest."
"Then we will find it. You are the world's greatest detective, Holmes," Watson teased, eyes sparkling. "I'm sure you'll manage to find a sock."