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“Holmes, this is just disgusting.”
“Truly it is, Watson.”
“Then why are we playing it?
“Because we need to break away from our routine.”
“You mean yours.”
“Same thing.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Watson, don’t let that newspaper throw you off center.”
“It wasn’t’ your face on the cover.”
“It could have been. It has been. Many times.”
“Past does not count. Present does. And at this moment it’s my bloody face, not yours!”
“Did you eat yet this morning?”
“You know perfectly well I have.”
“It’s just a photo.”
“Well, it bloody well wasn’t. It was mine!”
“Grumbly Bear!”
“Whoops!” Watson whispered to Holmes. “She’s been there the whole time, hasn’t she?”
Holmes smiled. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been too distracted to notice.”
“Liar.”
“Prove it!”
Watson hissed angrily, and then when a dainty hand caught his shoulder and pressed, he sighed unhappily. “I can never win sometimes.”
Mrs. Hudson bent over and kissed the top of his head. “You’re too busy counting the times you’ve lost to appreciate the things you’ve won.”
He looked up at her.
Her face was radiant. Her eyes dancing with mirth.
“Walk. Now.”
“I...”
Holmes rattled the fireplace screen with the poker. “Oh, so sorry.”
“You did that on purpose.”
“Now why would I do that, Watson?”
“You two are ganging up on me!”
Mrs. Hudson snorted angrily. “Very well then, be a grumbly bear. I shall take the walk by myself then and if by chance some handsome stranger comes up and mugs me, I shall think only of you with my dying breath.”
Holmes laughed.
Watson didn’t.
