Title: S for Spoons
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes (ACD)
Rating: G
Length: 545 words
Summary: All is not well between Holmes and Watson

When Inspector Lestrade entered our rooms one late autumn afternoon, he looked with some consternation from Holmes to myself and then back again.  Holmes may accuse him of being unobservant, but the inspector was immediately conscious that something was wrong between us.  In fact, one might say the atmosphere was almost frozen.

“Oh, hrmph,” he said, clearly lost for words.

Holmes looked up.  “Watson is feeling a trifle peeved,” he said by way of explanation.

I refrained from replying, aware that my language would be on the strong side.  Not that I was concerned that Lestrade would in any way be shocked, having been a policeman in London for many years that was hardly likely to be the case, but I did not wish to dignify Holmes with the vehemence of my displeasure when he seemed to view it all as a minor mishap.

Lestrade clearly felt that Holmes was understating the case, because he looked between us once again, and then started to make his apologies before making a hasty departure.

Holmes discerned this thought and hastened to add, “He’s upset because his playing of the spoons was deemed not to be very proficient.”

Lestrade looked as if he was going to laugh, but one look at my expression changed his mind.  “What exactly happened, Doctor?” he asked.

“Mycroft Holmes had arranged for us to be invited to join a certain party of gentlemen at luncheon today, as he was hoping his brother would be able to intercept a valuable document before it fell into the wrong hands.  All was going well until I noticed Holmes slip underneath the table.  I ignored him and hoped that anyone else who spotted his absence would assume he had temporarily left the room.  We might have survived, but suddenly Holmes tugged my trouser leg and whispered, ‘Quick, create a diversion’.  I realised that it was important to keep everyone’s eyes above the table, so I couldn’t risk pretending to faint, nor would it have been seemly to start an argument with my neighbour, a highly respected government minister, so failing all else, I picked up two spoons and began to play them, saying that I’d been thinking of using this as a party trick.”

“As far as I was concerned it worked very well,” Holmes took over my narrative.  “While the gentlemen at the table were laughing and making ribald comments at Watson, I was able to find the document and place it safely in my inside pocket.  I managed to crawl out from under the table, noticed only by brother Mycroft, and so stroll round to resume my seat.  We left soon afterwards.”

“And I will never be able to dine out again,” I complained.

“Oh, I’m sure Mycroft will put the word around that you were assisting me in a case, and everyone will consider you a jolly good sport,” Holmes replied.

I glared at him again, and finally decided to admit that there was a funny side to what had happened.  I shook my head and started to laugh, and Lestrade joined in.  Holmes didn’t laugh, but a smile quirked on his face.  I fear that this will soon be an entry in his commonplace book under ‘S’ for ‘Spoons, Watson’s attempt to play’.