lmao i think i'm the only ritchie-verse character here....but....

[betonit]

It was a dark and stormy afternoon –– the type where all anyone really wants to do is sit inside and grouse about the weather over a cup of coffee and the newspaper. John Watson, unfortunately, was doing quite the opposite of that (minus the grousing part – he was complaining quite a bit, albeit inwardly). It seemed that every Very Important Errand he'd ever had in his life had chosen to fall on this particularly nasty day, and so he'd been forced out into the blustery hellishness of the storm.

The morning hadn't started out all that bad, actually. The thunder and wind had put a slight damper on Watson's spirit but he'd shrugged it off and reassured himself that a spot of bad weather wasn't enough to ruin an entire day, and he set off with that idea set firmly in mind. Not forty minutes later, his mood was already souring. The rain was proving to be too much even for an umbrella and he was getting soaked just walking from carriage to shopfront. Each building he entered seemed to house at least one person willing to happily remark on his miserable state as they sat cozy and dry with their crackling fires and brimming tea cups. At one point a carriage passed too closely to a nearby puddle and Watson found himself with a pair of sopping wet shoes in turn.

It was understandable that he was fed up with everything and everyone by the time he returned from his errands that day. The last thing he wanted was to find Sherlock up to doing any number of the odd things he was prone to, or to be met by an officer begging for help on whatever new case was baffling Lestrade. He just wanted to read the bloody paper. Of course, things were rarely quite so easy, no matter how much one hoped.

"I'm back," he announced flatly as he stepped inside and shut the door.

[ooc: Open to everyone! This can be set post-game of shadows or pre-first movie or even "bizarre alien universe with dinosaurs and monsters" if you want, just let me know! Prose or action tags are fine – I just want to practice with this guy.]

Comments

Now there are two of us!

[insists]

Sadly, Mary didn't have a paper for him to read.

There was, however, a fire and a pot of tea. She'd arrived at Watson and Holmes apartment, hoping to tempt John out for dinner on her night off. Neither of the men had been home, but Mrs Hudson had allowed her to wait (a little scandalised that a single woman was going to wait in the house of two men!) and brough her some tea to keep the chill off.

"John!" She would have stood, if she hadn't had a cup of tea in her hand and a book in the other (borrowing one of Sherlock's books on poisons. It was fascinating). Her smile was bright but quickly melted into a frown. "...You look terrible."

asjdjskd ♥

[betonit]

If anyone other than Mary had been the one greeting him for the hundredth time with tea and fire and compliments to his awful state, Watson would have probably turned on his heels and left to avoid decking them. (a bit of an exaggeration, perhaps, but still!) Instead he was pleasantly surprised, but feigned straight-faced indignation as he removed his dripping hat and coat and replied, "So I've been told." His shoes made a delightful squelching noise with each step he took, which somehow diminished the sincerity of his faux seriousness. "What brings you here on this absolutely beautiful day?"

[insists]

She set the book and cup down and stood up to take his hat and coat. "The prospect of your company. I thought I might convince you to join me for dinner out."

She set the hat and coat next to the fire for them to dry and turned back to survey her soaked fiancee. His put-upon expression combined with the wet squelch of his shoes made it impossible to keep her own straight face. "But that can wait, I think."

[betonit]

Watson took two squishy steps and stopped next to Mary, finally dropping his act and cracking a smile. "Dinner would be lovely," he said. "But this weather – "

No matter how wonderful an outing with Mary sounded, the thought of venturing outdoors again was very off-putting. However, the idea of having a quiet dinner at home invaded by Sherlock was equally so. The good doctor found himself in quite a predicament for approximately three seconds before he made the very obvious correct decision.

"Actually, I think the rain is letting up a bit now." (It wasn't; if anything the wind and rain were howling more fiercely than ever.) "We shouldn't wait too long unless you'd like to bring an extra dinner guest. If you do, I suspect he'll be here within the hour. Otherwise I'll fetch a dry pair of shoes."

[insists]

What on earth was she supposed to do with such a wonderful fiancee? Leaning up, Mary gave him a quick kiss and she was quite startled by how cold he was. She took a hand in hers, the other reaching up to cup his face. "A dry change of clothes might be better still, dearest. Your hands and face are like ice." She might have moved a little closer to warm him up, despite the damp of his clothes.

The matter of another guest to dinner didn't worry her particularly. Unless Sherlock was in the middle of a case, of course. It seemed he didn't eat while thinking.

[betonit]

"There hardly seems a point when I'll be in this state again the moment I step outside," he joked, then gave her hand an affectionate squeeze as he continued, "You must share your traveling secrets with me –– I look like something the cat dragged through the gutter, and here you are as lovely as ever. It's hard to believe we've been out on the same day!"

[insists]

"I take the precaution of a carriage." She took his hands in hers in the hopes of warming them, a blush creeping across her face. She was hardly at her loveliest right now, but grateful for his compliment all the same.

"I'd rather have you warm and dry than out in that weather again." She brought his hands to her face and kissed the knuckles. "I'm sure Mrs Hudson can find a morsel or two to sustain us."

[betonit]

"A carriage!" John repeated the word as though it were a very new idea to him. (He had used one of his own, of course, but clearly the elements just held a particularly strong grudge against him.) "I shall certainly keep that in mind for next time."

He smiled as she blushed, and even more so when she pressed a kiss against his hand. "We can stay in," he said, withdrawing his hand from hers and cupping her face briefly before stepping away, towards the door. "If Sherlock does happen to return then he can join us if he likes. It shouldn't be a bother – I think he's determined to make things up to us after last time. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to find some dry clothes."