The Victorian adventure continue between Sherlock Holmes and John Watson, as Mike Stamford tries to play matchmaker once more! This is part of the mydogwatson‘s Sherlock December Ficlets of 2017! She also has a new series that can be found here:  2018 Advent Ficlet Challenge and as always, leave mydogwatson some comments, she’d love to hear from you! [Art by arashicat at deviantart.com!]

A Teaser from Thin Ice, the full story can be found here: Thin Ice

I did not move from the divan. I was alone in the parlour, save for the uneasy company of my own darkening mood.

It was impossible not to hear Watson up in his room, whistling a cheerful tune as he divested himself of his second-best suit and donned…well, I could not imagine what he might be donning, actually.

I had reacted with equanimity early this morning when Watson announced that he would not be in for luncheon, as Stamford had invited him to take the meal with him at his club and Watson had accepted, despite the inconvenience caused to me. Apparently, my important plans for the day were of no consequence. It happened that my scrapbooks were in dire need of updating and Watson was a dab hand with a brush and pot of glue. I credit his surgeon’s fingers for the fact that he always made a much neater job than myself of pasting items of significance into my alphabetised volumes.

But no, apparently it was more important to go eat mediocre beef and soggy Brussel sprouts with Stamford than it was to sit in our cosy rooms and assist me.

The news had quite spoiled breakfast, which was usually a time when I could freely indulge in a bit of observing and then cataloguing a variety of Watsonian expressions, while he was engaged with the Times and the marmalade. But with his announcement, my mood soured, which he did not even seem to notice. Things had not improved one whit after his return from the club, when he cavalierly announced that after being gone for two hours and seventeen minutes over luncheon [that a small stain on his left cuff proved to have been as mediocre as predicted] he would be going out yet again this evening.

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