Prompt: the return of an old client in need, from mrs pencil
A/N: Turned this one on its head a bit...
The dullness of life without a case is a problem for which I have never found a solution, more so since Watson had left Baker Street some months ago for the pleasures of married life.
I could not very well begrudge him his happiness, save for my general belief that matrimony is illogical and unnecessary for the rational person, but I did admit that his choice of bride was an excellent one. That did not make the increased boredom easier to bear, for Watson had always been ready for a good conversation or a stroll in the park. He has always been able to bring me out of my worst moods.
But no matter. I should have to adjust, and surely there will be a case soon.
Almost as soon as I finished the thought, Billy announced a visitor. A case, surely! Something to alleviate the ennui of life, for a few days, at least.
But the visitor, when she entered, was not a client at all. Or rather, she was a former client. "Miss Morstan - excuse me, Mrs. Watson," I said, gesturing her to a seat. "I confess I am surprised to see you. I trust you do not need my assistance again?"
Mrs. Watson laughed gently and shook her head. "No, at least, not in the matter of a mystery. I am seeking your assistance, but for something rather more mundane." Now she blushed, seeming nervous. "I was afraid it was too trivial to ask you, but I cannot think of anyone else who would be able to help me."
Watson has said before that I sometimes intimidate people, and I have never seen a better example than this moment. Of course I knew that I can do so, it is an extraordinarily useful ability in a detective, but I had no wish to have the same effect on my dearest friend's wife. I sat back, deliberately appearing relaxed. "What can I help you with?"
"Well, it is silly," Mrs. Watson continued. "But I find myself unsure of what to get John for a Christmas gift. I suppose I should not be, as we were only just married after a short engagement, but I suspect you know better what he would appreciate."
A problem! Not the one I had expected when a visitor was announced, but something to occupy my mind all the same. "You have come to the right place," I assured her. Indeed, Watson had often remarked upon my well-chosen gifts, which to me seemed simplicity itself. Some simple observation is all that is required to determine what someone is likely to make use of.
"I thought perhaps a book, but John has so many and has read more," Mrs. Watson said. "I could not be sure of getting him something he had already read."
"I agree," I said. "I learned long ago not to gift Watson books, for the same reason." Even the most gifted observer could not be expected to remember all the books he had read. "Accessories for reading, however, were always useful. I never knew someone who could go through bookmarks like Watson."
Mrs. Watson brightened. "I learned tatting at boarding school and have always wanted to improve my skills. Perhaps bookmarks would be a good way to do both."
"Watson would no doubt appreciate that more than anything one could buy," I said, truthfully. My dear Watson is a sentimental fellow - oddly enough, given the professions he has chosen and his penchant for adventure - and he would treasure something heartfelt made by his wife, no matter how simple it was.
"He is also running low on writing materials," I said. "Notebooks and the like. He does run through them, and certainly would appreciate it."
"A beautiful notebook is easy enough," Mrs. Watson said. "I am so glad that he and I both value simple things."
"You are indeed well-matched," I said, which is true, for I had seen it from the first. However much I objected to matrimony in general, it suited the Watsons magnificently.
"I am not taking any gift ideas from you, am I?" Mrs. Watson asked suddenly. "I would not want to make your Christmas shopping more difficult."
"No, no," I said. "I never give Watson writing supplies, or else he will think I approve of those dreadfully romantic tales of my cases he writes."
To my surprise, Mrs. Watson laughed. "He has told me of your disagreements on those stories. I cannot agree with you, for I very much enjoyed them, but of course, it is your livelihood he writes of."
"Indeed," I said. "I also have no talent for tatting, so rest assured, the ideas I have given you are safe."
"I must thank you, then," she answered. "I shall make good use of your suggestions, and hope that John will give me equally good ones when I ask him the same about your gifts."
This I had not expected, though perhaps I should have. Mrs. Watson gave me a knowing look. "Did you think you would not be invited to Christmas? Neither John nor I have any family, and you are his dearest friend. After bringing us together, of course you shall be invited to our table for Christmas."
"There is nothing for it then but to thank you, and to accept," I said. "I shall bring my violin for caroling," I added.
Yes, things change, but not always for the worse. I shall have to see about getting Mrs. Watson a Christmas gift - she had done me a service by bringing not one, but two problems to my attention! I shall not be bored for some days at least.