Log in

Previous Entry | Next Entry

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.


Jan. 29th, 2007 11:32 pm (UTC)
Watson smiled back, albeit slightly shakily. "Yes, I suppose they do tell you that. It is rather silly, isn't it? But as I said - clinical mental disorder. It is believed to be - the love of men by men, I mean - to be a disease, always immoral, always degrading, and often fatal. Although your friend - what is it? Chrétien? - sounds very pleasant, I sometimes wonder if he would make a better doctor than the ones who taught me these things."
Jan. 29th, 2007 11:47 pm (UTC)
"Chrétien, a doctor?" Jeannot shook his head thoughtfully. "I do not think so. He is, himself, often ill." He looked down again, sobered by the thought, and was quiet for a moment before he looked up again and smiled at Watson. "Perhaps, though, he knows more about love than these doctors who taught you, although he is very young."
Jan. 30th, 2007 01:05 am (UTC)
"I think perhaps he does," Watson said, rising. He felt inexplicably calm. Sticking his hands into his pockets, he grinned almost triumphantly at Jeannot. "Shall we go?"
Jan. 30th, 2007 01:15 am (UTC)
Jeannot stood up and smiled, glad that Watson was behaving more rationally, now that he had sorted things out for himself. "Certainly," he said, "if you are ready." He laughed suddenly, his good humor restored. "And... if you can find your shoes."
Jan. 30th, 2007 02:00 am (UTC)
"Oh yes," Watson said, looking wryly down at his stocking encased feet. "There's one by the door, I think, and the other's on the bed." He reached for and retrieved the second, then searched for the first.
Jan. 30th, 2007 02:02 am (UTC)
Jeannot spotted the other shoe and went to fetch it for Watson. He handed it to his friend with a smile. "There you are," he said lightly. "And now we can go." He waited at the door, a bit impatient to return to Gabe and breakfast.
Jan. 30th, 2007 03:51 am (UTC)
"Thank you," Watson said with relief, taking the shoes and sitting down for a moment to lace them. After a moment, he bounded back up, seeming a bit too excited to go downstairs. "And on we go. Once more unto the breach."

((Yes, they quote the same bits of Henry V. They're practically married when they're not angsting all over everything.))
Jan. 30th, 2007 03:55 am (UTC)
((Aww. <3. Love them to bits, truly.))

Jeannot laughed, surprised at the phrase. "M. Holmes said that, before," he remarked as they started down the stairs. "Is it poetry, that you both know it?"
Jan. 30th, 2007 04:06 am (UTC)
"Yes, it is." Watson smiled broadly at this reminder of his rapport with his friend. "Shakespeare, as it were. From Henry the Fifth. 'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, or close the wall up with our English dead.'" Remembering that he was speaking to a Frenchman, he tactfully did not continue. "To the kitchen, then?"
Jan. 30th, 2007 04:11 am (UTC)
Jeannot smiled. "My friend Chrétien loves the plays of Shakespeare," he said absently, leading Watson toward the kitchen. "Here is the kitchen," he informed his friend happily.
Jan. 30th, 2007 04:21 am (UTC)
"Ah, excellent," Watson declared, reaching for the doorknob. "And I'm sure your friend Chrétien and I would get along rather well -" He caught sight of Holmes, and abruptly shut up. You must excuse him, epiphanies have this sort of effect.


holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
The Byronic Cravat

Latest Month

May 2007

Page Summary

Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by chasethestars