Appreciation
Jul. 8th, 2015 12:19 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
violsvaFor Watson's Woes July Writing Prompt #7: Unwanted Attention.
“You hate it,” I said at last, after Inspector Stanley Hopkins had left almost bubbling over with joy at the successful conclusion to his case, and even more at the scraps of attention Holmes had thrown him. “Why do you put up with it?”
Holmes shrugged and stared at the fire. “He is a fine detective,” he said. “And he brings interesting cases, and you know how important that is to me.”
“So does Lestrade.”
“You don’t think Scotland Yard’s young talent should be encouraged, then?”
“Holmes -!” I said, then relaxed myself. “Not when you clearly despise him.”
He winced. “I hope it isn’t that clear to him.”
“It should be!” I said. “Have you not told him you don’t -”
I stopped, for I was approaching a subject Holmes and I had never spoken of – deliberately never spoken of. This conversation already had come closer to the subject than we had in years – since before my marriage.
“I have told him I have no interest of that sort,” said Holmes. “He has not asked anything of me since.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to put up with him fawning over you.” He flicked his eyebrows upwards. “For God’s sake, Holmes, I know it bothers you. You could simply tell him to tone it down or else you won’t assist him.”
“It’s simply not so much of a hardship, Watson. I can put up with it quite easily.”
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to!”
Holmes looked at me for a long moment, and then he smiled quietly. “I barely notice it, if the case is interesting enough. I can simply ignore him. But you dislike the thought of me being required to do even that.”
“Of course I do,” I said. “You’d object to any of your clients being in such a position.”
He smiled a little more. “Perhaps I’ll talk to him, then.”
I took out my pipe, knowing better than to press him further. I felt his eyes on me, though, and could almost hear his smile, still directed at me.
We didn’t talk about the matter. But I was almost certain that I was the only man of my type he had never had to say anything to on the subject. I knew what he wanted – nothing of that kind – and what I wanted – his happiness – and that was all I had ever needed to know. I was his friend, and for anything else I had always known I would have to look elsewhere, and never blamed him for it.
Now also on AO3.
“You hate it,” I said at last, after Inspector Stanley Hopkins had left almost bubbling over with joy at the successful conclusion to his case, and even more at the scraps of attention Holmes had thrown him. “Why do you put up with it?”
Holmes shrugged and stared at the fire. “He is a fine detective,” he said. “And he brings interesting cases, and you know how important that is to me.”
“So does Lestrade.”
“You don’t think Scotland Yard’s young talent should be encouraged, then?”
“Holmes -!” I said, then relaxed myself. “Not when you clearly despise him.”
He winced. “I hope it isn’t that clear to him.”
“It should be!” I said. “Have you not told him you don’t -”
I stopped, for I was approaching a subject Holmes and I had never spoken of – deliberately never spoken of. This conversation already had come closer to the subject than we had in years – since before my marriage.
“I have told him I have no interest of that sort,” said Holmes. “He has not asked anything of me since.”
“That doesn’t mean you need to put up with him fawning over you.” He flicked his eyebrows upwards. “For God’s sake, Holmes, I know it bothers you. You could simply tell him to tone it down or else you won’t assist him.”
“It’s simply not so much of a hardship, Watson. I can put up with it quite easily.”
“I know you can, but you shouldn’t have to!”
Holmes looked at me for a long moment, and then he smiled quietly. “I barely notice it, if the case is interesting enough. I can simply ignore him. But you dislike the thought of me being required to do even that.”
“Of course I do,” I said. “You’d object to any of your clients being in such a position.”
He smiled a little more. “Perhaps I’ll talk to him, then.”
I took out my pipe, knowing better than to press him further. I felt his eyes on me, though, and could almost hear his smile, still directed at me.
We didn’t talk about the matter. But I was almost certain that I was the only man of my type he had never had to say anything to on the subject. I knew what he wanted – nothing of that kind – and what I wanted – his happiness – and that was all I had ever needed to know. I was his friend, and for anything else I had always known I would have to look elsewhere, and never blamed him for it.
Now also on AO3.
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Date: 2015-07-09 09:16 am (UTC)(no subject)
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