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All your coffee are belong to Gabe!

Location: The Cravat
Time: N/A. (Though for all intents and purposes it is morning.)


This morning, as with many mornings, Gabe's first thought was one word. This one word was 'coffee.' He carefully extricated himself from his and Jeannot's bed, making sure not to wake his love as he did. He left the room quietly and went down the stairs, looking for any new room, hopefully one containing a coffee-maker and some grounds. As luck ((or possibly the BC's inherent MKCSR powers)) would have it, the first room he decided to explore was the kitchen, the coffee-maker on the counter like a gift from G-d. He only had to look through two cupboards before finding the coffee grounds and cups, and he set about making it, humming Chelsea Hotel #2 very loudly to himself. Once done, he sat upon the counter, impatiently watching it percolate.

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simplysidhe
Jan. 27th, 2007 10:28 pm (UTC)
Holmes woke up. This development was not one he approved of, particularly as he was lying on the floor without blankets or pillows. Luckily, years of his profession had given him the ability to sleep where ever he might need to. They had neglected, however, to give him the ability to wake up comfortably. Aching, he got up, refusing adamantly to look over his shoulder at Watson. With that uncomfortable, fuzzy feeling that comes from sleeping in one's clothes, he made his way as efficiently as possible down the stairs. Hearing voices from the kitchen, he poked his head in owlishly. "Oh, good morning," he said, owlishly blinking sleep from his eyes.

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holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
byronic_cravat
The Byronic Cravat

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