Untitled Frenchfic
Chapter Three
by Alicia (aisumitsukai at home.com)
5/22/04
General Disclaimer
Nothing much happens here, but things'll pick up next chappie, or so I hope
Enjoy!
Chapter Three: Watson Enjoys Being Not Quite So Moral and Honourable.
Holmes sat cross-legged on his king-sized bed, silently praising 22nd
century technology. His matress was a beautiful thing. If only he
didn’t have to leave it for that bloody teamwork seminar. He was the
world’s greatest detective, to allow himself a little arrogance, and
he did not need teamwork seminars.
Sighing the sigh of abject self-pity, he stood up and fetched his
coat.
Humming quietly to himself, he stepped out of his room, digging in his
pockets for his ever-misplaced key card. If only they had normal keys
these days: he could put them on a nice big brass ring and stick them
to his mantel with a jack-knife, along with his mail. Then he’d never
lose them!
With a quiet ‘aha!’ he pulled out his card with a flourish, only to
jump back into his room as a metal cleaning trolley came zooming
around a corner, nearly running him over.
"Bleeding--" Holmes didn’t bother finishing his sentence but
hurriedly locked his door and ran up the corridor, even though he knew
there would be no one around the corner. As usual, he was right, and
the hallway was deserted. Frowning, he stepped into the elevator and
went down to join Watson and Lestrade for breakfast.
He found them sitting in the same table as he had chosen last night,
chatting amiably. Lestrade wearing suspiciously clean-looking clothes
for someone who had no luggage.
"New clothes, Inspector?" Sitting down, Holmes nodded good morning to
them.
"Yeah, I got up nice and early and hit all the really cheap secondhand
stores on the other side of town. I figured I’d start a new trend
or something on this side of the city, where women don’t wear shoes
unless they look like they used to be an animal and have eight cm of
heel on them." Lestrade grinned, proudly displaying rather
unprofessional, green, pseudo-plastic sandals. "Mind you, even the
secondhand stores here are more fashionable then the most expensive
ones back home."
"Don’t let Deidre hear you say that," Watson advised.
"Mmm. So, you guys looking forward to a fun-filled, educational day of
building towers with office furniture?" Lestrade waggled her eyebrows.
"We won’t actually have to do that, will we?" Looking pained, Holmes
waved a waiter over.
"Who knows." Watson responded. "But I wish you two luck with whatever
it is you will be doing."
"Whaddya mean you wish us luck. You’ll be doing it too." Lestrade put
in her order to the waiter, once again explaining that Watson wouldn’t
be eating.
"Oh." Watson put on an innocent face. "Didn’t I tell you? As a Yard-
programmed compudroid, I already have all the teamwork training I
need." His innocent face dropped, replaced by a huge grin. "I’m only
here because the President wanted to meet me as well. But don’t worry,
I’ll take lots of pictures wherever I go."
His companions gaped.
"And I always thought you were supposed to be an honourable, moral
person, Watson. My childhood dreams are crushed." Lestrade stared at
him.
"Yes, well, between the two of you I’ve had one too many ‘Look! It’s
ridiculously foggy outside! But we’ve no food! Watson, you must go out
and buy some!’ tricks played on me not to take advantage of this." He
grinned again as Holmes and Lestrade had the decency to look vaguely
ashamed.
"I can’t believe someone didn’t tell us this sooner!" Lestrade
slouched in her chair. "How on Earth did we not know this....?"
"Ah, well. At least one of us will enjoy this trip," Holmes smiled wryly
as the food arrived.
"Actually," Lestrade sat up straight again, and taking a bite of her
scrambled eggs. "This works out great! You’ll have so much free time
so you can go and buy Deidre’s underwear for me. I doubt I’ll have the
time... or the inclination... once things get into full swing."
Holmes choked on his crepe and Watson blinked.
Looking hopeful, Lestrade continued. "Please, Watson? I’d really,
really appreciate it."
"Absolutely not."
Lestrade snapped her fingers. "Well, it was worth a try."
Fear not! This is not some devious scheme of mine to get rid of Watson
for the rest of the story. I plan on giving him a nice big role to
compensate for all the times I *did* get rid of him. (I'm sorry
Watson! I love you, I really do!)
On to Chapter 4!
Back to Chapter 2
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