The First of December
Dec. 1st, 2015 12:01 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
capt_facepalmTitle: The First of December
Author:![[info]](https://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif?v=1)
capt_facepalm
Rating: PG
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD-Compliant Gaslight)
Characters: , Dr John H. Watson, Mrs Hudson, Mr Sherlock Holmes, others mentioned
Summary: A sweet vignette
Warnings: (none)
Word Count: 1005
Author's Notes: Written for WAdvent 2015 at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
watsons_woes
Dr John Watson returned to the Baker Street lodgings he shared with Mr Sherlock Holmes and closed the door against the driving rain. The day had started with an early call for the doctor and he had not taken into account the seasonal variability of early December. All he wanted was a dry suit of clothes and a warm fire by which to relieve his chill and to have his tea, but he still had one final errand to complete.
‘Mrs Hudson,’ he called.
‘In the kitchen, Doctor!’
‘Here are the things you asked me to pick up: a dozen eggs, a tin of Fry’s Cocoa (medium-sized), vanilla extract, and half a pound of almonds.’
‘Thank you, dear... Doctor Watson, you are soaking wet! And, no doubt, famished too. Although I am grateful for the cocoa, and need it for this recipe, you should have left off getting these when the weather turned. Go change into something warm and I’ll make your tea. Sorry, but you will have to have it in the kitchen. The sweep and his boy are doing the south chimney so there’s no heat on upstairs.’
Teeth chattering, Watson nodded and went up to his room. As he passed the landing on his return, he could hear voices coming from the sitting room. It seemed that the sweep and his boy were arguing.
Watson gave a polite knock and briskly opened the door. Two grimey characters knelt by the cold fireplace . Both looked at him expectantly, the whites of their eyes in sharp contrast to their coal-tar complexions. The elder scowled. ‘Wha’ choo want, guv?’
‘Just to know when you will be finished. It’s gone evening and the house is cold,’ Watson replied.
‘We’ll be done when we’re done and not a moment earlier, mister,’ the old sweep growled.
‘Impertinent fellow,’ Watson mumbled.
The boy tried to suppress a giggle as Watson closed the door.
Back in the kitchen, Mrs Hudson had put the kettle on and was measuring out the ingredients for an old family recipe when Dr Watson returned.
‘I say, Mrs Hudson, is it wise to leave those scalawags alone upstairs? Might they not abscond with the silverware or something?’
‘Don’t mind them, Doctor. They’re safe enough. Now, don’t make such a face. The water’s not yet boiled. In the meantime you can help me make these squares.’
Watson looked at the ingredients assembled on the table.
‘I hope that’s not salt,’ he said, indicating a bowl of white crystals.
‘Of course not. It’s two cups of sugar. This recipe only calls for a half teaspoon of salt. Here, measure out one half cup of milk while I soften this quarter pound of butter. Now, tell me about your day.
Watson recounted his early morning call which turned out to be false labour. Mrs Rosen’s second child was in no hurry to enter the world and the midwife wanted a doctor's confirmation. Watson had waited until well after noon just to make sure and he expected the same could happen the next morning too. Another two home visits, a trip to the chemists’, and Mrs Hudson’s errand rounded out the day.
‘You will make yourself ill if you overexert yourself,’ Mrs Hudson chided as she added the milk, salt, and sugar to the butter. Watson shrugged. He preferred to keep busy.
‘What is the contraption that you are using?’ he asked
‘Have you never seen a double-boiler before? The boiling water in the lower pan allows whatever you are cooking in the inner pan to come to a boil and yet it keeps it from burning. Now, take that cocoa and add seven tablespoons of it while I keep stirring.’
Watson did as commanded and the sweet aroma of chocolate filled the room. His stomach gurgled in response.
‘You stir while I set the tea to steep,’ said Mrs Hudson, handing the spoon to Watson. ‘No sampling just yet!’ she added when she saw her lodger eying the chocolate-laden utensil.
Watson stirred the chocolate until Mrs Hudson returned and handed him a cup of tea.
Once the chocolate mixture had boiled for a few minutes, Mrs Hudson dropped a little into a small bowl of cold water.
‘You know it is done when it can form a small ball,’ she said and showed Watson her technique.
A loud clatter could be heard from upstairs. Watson started.
‘I don’t trust those sweeps. They sound like they might break something. Holmes will be furious if they upset his chemicals.’
‘Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m sure it will all be fine. Now, I’ve let this cool for a few minutes and I need you to measure out one and a quarter cups of oatmeal, and the same amount of the coconut.’
‘Coconut? Is that what I could smell earlier?’
‘Yes. I grated it yesterday and let it dry overnight in the warmer. Now, I’ll just mix this all together and press it into this nine inch pan. Once it has cooled, I’ll cut it into squares.’
‘Surely these will not last until Christmas.’
‘No indeed! Half are for the ladies at the church. We have a meeting tonight to discuss the Christmas arrangements. The rest are for you and Mr Holmes.’
There was a crashing sound upstairs. Watson stood to leave, determination on his face. Mrs Hudson stood in his way.
‘Please, Doctor, it's fine.’
‘But...’
‘You know how much Mr Holmes likes to dress up and fool us with his costumes?’
‘Yes, but... Oh!’
‘Let him have his fun, dear.’
Later that evening, with the chimney swept and a fire heating the sitting room, Dr Watson and Sherlock Holmes sat in their armchairs enjoying Mrs Hudson’s chocolate confection.
‘So Watson, did you recognise me as the chimney sweep, or did Mrs Hudson figure it out?’
Watson shook his head and grinned. ‘No, Holmes, I did not recognise you at all. But in the future, you should take better care disguising your accomplices. Your boy was wearing the same boots I bought for Wiggins last week.’
‘Ah, yes. It always comes down the little details. It is so hard to account for everything.’
Author:
capt_facepalmRating: PG
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD-Compliant Gaslight)
Characters: , Dr John H. Watson, Mrs Hudson, Mr Sherlock Holmes, others mentioned
Summary: A sweet vignette
Warnings: (none)
Word Count: 1005
Author's Notes: Written for WAdvent 2015 at
watsons_woesDr John Watson returned to the Baker Street lodgings he shared with Mr Sherlock Holmes and closed the door against the driving rain. The day had started with an early call for the doctor and he had not taken into account the seasonal variability of early December. All he wanted was a dry suit of clothes and a warm fire by which to relieve his chill and to have his tea, but he still had one final errand to complete.
‘Mrs Hudson,’ he called.
‘In the kitchen, Doctor!’
‘Here are the things you asked me to pick up: a dozen eggs, a tin of Fry’s Cocoa (medium-sized), vanilla extract, and half a pound of almonds.’
‘Thank you, dear... Doctor Watson, you are soaking wet! And, no doubt, famished too. Although I am grateful for the cocoa, and need it for this recipe, you should have left off getting these when the weather turned. Go change into something warm and I’ll make your tea. Sorry, but you will have to have it in the kitchen. The sweep and his boy are doing the south chimney so there’s no heat on upstairs.’
Teeth chattering, Watson nodded and went up to his room. As he passed the landing on his return, he could hear voices coming from the sitting room. It seemed that the sweep and his boy were arguing.
Watson gave a polite knock and briskly opened the door. Two grimey characters knelt by the cold fireplace . Both looked at him expectantly, the whites of their eyes in sharp contrast to their coal-tar complexions. The elder scowled. ‘Wha’ choo want, guv?’
‘Just to know when you will be finished. It’s gone evening and the house is cold,’ Watson replied.
‘We’ll be done when we’re done and not a moment earlier, mister,’ the old sweep growled.
‘Impertinent fellow,’ Watson mumbled.
The boy tried to suppress a giggle as Watson closed the door.
Back in the kitchen, Mrs Hudson had put the kettle on and was measuring out the ingredients for an old family recipe when Dr Watson returned.
‘I say, Mrs Hudson, is it wise to leave those scalawags alone upstairs? Might they not abscond with the silverware or something?’
‘Don’t mind them, Doctor. They’re safe enough. Now, don’t make such a face. The water’s not yet boiled. In the meantime you can help me make these squares.’
Watson looked at the ingredients assembled on the table.
‘I hope that’s not salt,’ he said, indicating a bowl of white crystals.
‘Of course not. It’s two cups of sugar. This recipe only calls for a half teaspoon of salt. Here, measure out one half cup of milk while I soften this quarter pound of butter. Now, tell me about your day.
Watson recounted his early morning call which turned out to be false labour. Mrs Rosen’s second child was in no hurry to enter the world and the midwife wanted a doctor's confirmation. Watson had waited until well after noon just to make sure and he expected the same could happen the next morning too. Another two home visits, a trip to the chemists’, and Mrs Hudson’s errand rounded out the day.
‘You will make yourself ill if you overexert yourself,’ Mrs Hudson chided as she added the milk, salt, and sugar to the butter. Watson shrugged. He preferred to keep busy.
‘What is the contraption that you are using?’ he asked
‘Have you never seen a double-boiler before? The boiling water in the lower pan allows whatever you are cooking in the inner pan to come to a boil and yet it keeps it from burning. Now, take that cocoa and add seven tablespoons of it while I keep stirring.’
Watson did as commanded and the sweet aroma of chocolate filled the room. His stomach gurgled in response.
‘You stir while I set the tea to steep,’ said Mrs Hudson, handing the spoon to Watson. ‘No sampling just yet!’ she added when she saw her lodger eying the chocolate-laden utensil.
Watson stirred the chocolate until Mrs Hudson returned and handed him a cup of tea.
Once the chocolate mixture had boiled for a few minutes, Mrs Hudson dropped a little into a small bowl of cold water.
‘You know it is done when it can form a small ball,’ she said and showed Watson her technique.
A loud clatter could be heard from upstairs. Watson started.
‘I don’t trust those sweeps. They sound like they might break something. Holmes will be furious if they upset his chemicals.’
‘Don’t worry, Doctor. I’m sure it will all be fine. Now, I’ve let this cool for a few minutes and I need you to measure out one and a quarter cups of oatmeal, and the same amount of the coconut.’
‘Coconut? Is that what I could smell earlier?’
‘Yes. I grated it yesterday and let it dry overnight in the warmer. Now, I’ll just mix this all together and press it into this nine inch pan. Once it has cooled, I’ll cut it into squares.’
‘Surely these will not last until Christmas.’
‘No indeed! Half are for the ladies at the church. We have a meeting tonight to discuss the Christmas arrangements. The rest are for you and Mr Holmes.’
There was a crashing sound upstairs. Watson stood to leave, determination on his face. Mrs Hudson stood in his way.
‘Please, Doctor, it's fine.’
‘But...’
‘You know how much Mr Holmes likes to dress up and fool us with his costumes?’
‘Yes, but... Oh!’
‘Let him have his fun, dear.’
.oOOo.
Later that evening, with the chimney swept and a fire heating the sitting room, Dr Watson and Sherlock Holmes sat in their armchairs enjoying Mrs Hudson’s chocolate confection.
‘So Watson, did you recognise me as the chimney sweep, or did Mrs Hudson figure it out?’
Watson shook his head and grinned. ‘No, Holmes, I did not recognise you at all. But in the future, you should take better care disguising your accomplices. Your boy was wearing the same boots I bought for Wiggins last week.’
‘Ah, yes. It always comes down the little details. It is so hard to account for everything.’
.oOOo.
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