A Letter from Mary
Mar. 8th, 2018 03:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darnedchildSummary: If Watson had expected there to be less sniping and quick tempers, he was left sadly disappointed. The pointed remarks continued, but there was a new undercurrent to them. Or, perhaps, the undercurrent had always been there and he’d only just noticed. (The third and probably final chapter of the "A Letter to Mary" series.)
Rating: G
A/N - SAW3 Day Four – (Canon Compliant – The Abominable Bride) or (Non-Canon/Head Canon – Early Marriage/Parent!Lock {Little Kids})
This is the third (and probably final) part of what has apparently became a series of TAB inspired short fics. The series consists of “A Letter to Mary” written for the 2016 Sherlolly Appreciation Week, “Another Letter to Mary” for the 2017 Sherlolly Appreciation Week, and now “A Letter from Mary” for 2018. You’ll probably need to be familiar with the first two parts to understand this one. Sorry.
A Letter from Mary
The case of the suspicious death of a young man employed by a visiting foreign dignitary was brought to a close fifteen days after Holmes had initially been asked to consult.
Once the murderous band of thieves had been brought to justice, and the item they had stolen (which Holmes had refused to identify, much to Watson’s annoyance, citing a matter of international diplomacy) had been returned to the grateful Italian, Watson couldn’t wait to have a substantial meal and a good night’s sleep in a real bed. Days of traveling by wagon and living off cheese and bread had begun to wear on him.
After the memorable hour spent on the side of the river during their long pursuit—where he had bathed in the freezing water and strolled along the bank while Holmes and Hooper had their discussion in the wagon—if Watson had expected there to be less sniping and quick tempers, he was left sadly disappointed. The pointed remarks continued, but there was a new undercurrent to them. Or, perhaps, the undercurrent had always been there and he’d only just noticed.
Watson was curious as to Hooper’s reaction to Holmes’ revelation that he had known she was a woman from the start, but neither of his companions felt the need to enlighten him while they were still on the case. It wasn’t until they rented a pair of rooms at a small hotel—at the dignitary’s insistence that they wait for him to arrive to take possession of the box personally—that his curiosity was satisfied.
Holmes had stayed behind to speak to the manager of the hotel while Hooper and Watson tiredly made their way to their respective rooms. Watson immediately dropped onto one the beds and must have fallen into an immediate deep sleep, because he suddenly woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door.
Holmes was standing over a basin with his lower face covered in shaving soap. He gestured with the straight razor. “Could you get that?”
The man from the front desk was waiting in the hall, clutching several shopping boxes. “Delivery for Mr Holmes, sir.”
Watson took the boxes and dug around in his pocket for a coin to hand over. He shut the door and turned to his friend. “What’s this?”
His friend finished wiping the last remnants of soap from his face and ran a hand along his cheeks to make sure his skin was smooth. “I had someone send out to the local shops for a few things, including a new suit for this evening.”
“We’re going out then?” He had been hoping to have a quick meal at the hotel and an early evening.
“No, Watson. Feel free to walk about and enjoy the city if you wish, but you’ll be enjoying it on your own. I shall be asking Hooper to join me for supper.” Holmes took the boxes from Watson’s hands and set them on his bed. He flipped open the lids and pulled out a pristine white shirt. “I had a suit sent to her room as well.”
He looked up at Watson, his usual self-confidence lacking for once. “Was that the right choice? Should I have given her a dress? Something more feminine?”
Watson floundered for a moment. “Which do you think she would feel more comfortable in?”
“Suit, I think.” Holmes nodded to himself and continued to lay out his new clothes.
“Holmes.” Watson waited for his friend to look at him again. “Sherlock. Is she, that is, are you . . .”
“Yes. Yes, I believe we are.”
இڿڰۣ-ڰۣ—
My Dearest John,
I have received several letters from you over the course of the last two days. To my amusement, they have not arrived in proper order. I felt as if I’ve jumped to the conclusion of one of those weekly stories in the Strand without the benefit of the middle two chapters.
As you have requested, I am making arrangements to join you. It was very generous of Mr Holmes’ client to offer you the use of his villa. I have long wished to visit Italy.
To do so in the spring? To witness a secret wedding? To spend nights dancing under the stars with my husband?
How could I refuse?
I am most eager to finally be introduced to the oft-mentioned Doctor Hooper. I very much wish to welcome her to our odd little family. I dare say Mrs Hudson will be delighted to have another woman in the house, especially one who wears a moustache and trousers to leave the home.
I still cannot believe that our Holmes is getting married.
The impulsivity and secrecy of the event, I utterly believe of our dear Sherlock.
Though I have not shared a word of anything you’ve written with M, but we both know he has his ways. I shall be bringing a packet from M’s solicitors, which Mr Holmes the younger may wish to review. I am to mention that it pertains to Doctor Hooper, should our friend attempt to toss it aside without inspection.
There is still much to do if I’m to leave in two days’ time. I shall see you soon, my love, but never soon enough.
Your faithful wife,
Mary
Rating: G
A/N - SAW3 Day Four – (Canon Compliant – The Abominable Bride) or (Non-Canon/Head Canon – Early Marriage/Parent!Lock {Little Kids})
This is the third (and probably final) part of what has apparently became a series of TAB inspired short fics. The series consists of “A Letter to Mary” written for the 2016 Sherlolly Appreciation Week, “Another Letter to Mary” for the 2017 Sherlolly Appreciation Week, and now “A Letter from Mary” for 2018. You’ll probably need to be familiar with the first two parts to understand this one. Sorry.
A Letter from Mary
The case of the suspicious death of a young man employed by a visiting foreign dignitary was brought to a close fifteen days after Holmes had initially been asked to consult.
Once the murderous band of thieves had been brought to justice, and the item they had stolen (which Holmes had refused to identify, much to Watson’s annoyance, citing a matter of international diplomacy) had been returned to the grateful Italian, Watson couldn’t wait to have a substantial meal and a good night’s sleep in a real bed. Days of traveling by wagon and living off cheese and bread had begun to wear on him.
After the memorable hour spent on the side of the river during their long pursuit—where he had bathed in the freezing water and strolled along the bank while Holmes and Hooper had their discussion in the wagon—if Watson had expected there to be less sniping and quick tempers, he was left sadly disappointed. The pointed remarks continued, but there was a new undercurrent to them. Or, perhaps, the undercurrent had always been there and he’d only just noticed.
Watson was curious as to Hooper’s reaction to Holmes’ revelation that he had known she was a woman from the start, but neither of his companions felt the need to enlighten him while they were still on the case. It wasn’t until they rented a pair of rooms at a small hotel—at the dignitary’s insistence that they wait for him to arrive to take possession of the box personally—that his curiosity was satisfied.
Holmes had stayed behind to speak to the manager of the hotel while Hooper and Watson tiredly made their way to their respective rooms. Watson immediately dropped onto one the beds and must have fallen into an immediate deep sleep, because he suddenly woke to the sound of someone knocking on the door.
Holmes was standing over a basin with his lower face covered in shaving soap. He gestured with the straight razor. “Could you get that?”
The man from the front desk was waiting in the hall, clutching several shopping boxes. “Delivery for Mr Holmes, sir.”
Watson took the boxes and dug around in his pocket for a coin to hand over. He shut the door and turned to his friend. “What’s this?”
His friend finished wiping the last remnants of soap from his face and ran a hand along his cheeks to make sure his skin was smooth. “I had someone send out to the local shops for a few things, including a new suit for this evening.”
“We’re going out then?” He had been hoping to have a quick meal at the hotel and an early evening.
“No, Watson. Feel free to walk about and enjoy the city if you wish, but you’ll be enjoying it on your own. I shall be asking Hooper to join me for supper.” Holmes took the boxes from Watson’s hands and set them on his bed. He flipped open the lids and pulled out a pristine white shirt. “I had a suit sent to her room as well.”
He looked up at Watson, his usual self-confidence lacking for once. “Was that the right choice? Should I have given her a dress? Something more feminine?”
Watson floundered for a moment. “Which do you think she would feel more comfortable in?”
“Suit, I think.” Holmes nodded to himself and continued to lay out his new clothes.
“Holmes.” Watson waited for his friend to look at him again. “Sherlock. Is she, that is, are you . . .”
“Yes. Yes, I believe we are.”
My Dearest John,
I have received several letters from you over the course of the last two days. To my amusement, they have not arrived in proper order. I felt as if I’ve jumped to the conclusion of one of those weekly stories in the Strand without the benefit of the middle two chapters.
As you have requested, I am making arrangements to join you. It was very generous of Mr Holmes’ client to offer you the use of his villa. I have long wished to visit Italy.
To do so in the spring? To witness a secret wedding? To spend nights dancing under the stars with my husband?
How could I refuse?
I am most eager to finally be introduced to the oft-mentioned Doctor Hooper. I very much wish to welcome her to our odd little family. I dare say Mrs Hudson will be delighted to have another woman in the house, especially one who wears a moustache and trousers to leave the home.
I still cannot believe that our Holmes is getting married.
The impulsivity and secrecy of the event, I utterly believe of our dear Sherlock.
Though I have not shared a word of anything you’ve written with M, but we both know he has his ways. I shall be bringing a packet from M’s solicitors, which Mr Holmes the younger may wish to review. I am to mention that it pertains to Doctor Hooper, should our friend attempt to toss it aside without inspection.
There is still much to do if I’m to leave in two days’ time. I shall see you soon, my love, but never soon enough.
Your faithful wife,
Mary