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Home sweet home

((New post, because it is good for the universe. I would like to applaud all of the Cravat's fine members for not making a home/Holmes pun, nor yet a Holmesosexual pun. Not yet.))

Location: The Cravat
Time: Out of time

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson stumbled out of the portal, Watson still a little wide eyed at the prospect of time travel, Holmes retaining his famous composure. They stood in wait of the others, avoiding each other's eyes.


Jan. 15th, 2007 06:42 am (UTC)
"Holmes said we had a room upstairs and that there's a cot for us to set up," Gabe replied. "I think now may be a good time to do it, and that way everyone has some privacy." He paused and then amended himself, "Provided our room has a lock, so that Holmes isn't able to interrupt again." He then realized of whom he was speaking and amended further, "Provided it has a lock he can't pick, if such a lock actually exists."
Jan. 15th, 2007 06:46 am (UTC)
"I regret to tell you that I very much doubt that it does," Watson said politely. "I believe your room is upstairs. The cot will be within the closet." He ran his eyes perceptively over the closet's inhabitants. "I think I should leave, and let you find it. If you need assistance, do not hesitate to call." He shut the door, and sighed. Holmes would be proud of his intuition.
Jan. 15th, 2007 07:09 am (UTC)
Jeannot smiled kindly at Watson, pitying the poor man, stuck here in an unknown place without his wife, and with his highly-volatile former lover who was apparently off sulking somewhere else. He was grateful, however, to be left alone with Gabe, and took the opportunity to kiss him more gently, in penitence for being so hasty earlier. "I wasn't lying when I said that I was hungry, you know," he told him with a smile. "I just didn't say what I was hungry for." He grinned at Gabe, forgetting quickly about the world outside the closet.
Jan. 15th, 2007 07:33 am (UTC)
Gabe laughed. "I knew exactly what you meant," he said, kissing him again and wrapping his arms around him. "And you've only whetted my appetite, though I think we should probably set up our room now, even if only to prove to Watson that we possess some sort of restraint. Besides, I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself further."
Jan. 15th, 2007 08:15 am (UTC)
Jeannot grinned and kissed Gabe's cheek, the look in his eyes promising more kisses once they were safe in their own room. "Then let us find this cot now," he suggested, and looked around, quickly spotting one of the folding beds in one corner. He went over and tugged at it, hoping not to cause an avalanche. Fortunately, it came out of its spot rather easily, and he smiled at Gabe again, triumphant, in a much better mood now that it was just the two of them. "Help me carry this, aimé," he requested, voice light.
Jan. 15th, 2007 08:43 am (UTC)
((Perhaps we should start a new post soonabouts, partners in crime? My browser is starting to rebel, and this post has a good hundred on the one beneath it. Whenever's best, of course.))

Gabe opened the closet door now, so that neither of them would have to put down the cot to open it later, and took one end of it. It wasn't so much heavy as hard to maneuver, and the extra pair of hands would certainly make things easier. "I'm at you beck and call, bel," he said, smiling, and picked up his end. "Let's go."
Jan. 15th, 2007 08:54 am (UTC)
((Good place to end it, I think. I was just pondering that. New post indeed.))
Jan. 15th, 2007 08:56 am (UTC)
((Yes. I'm on it.))

Jeannot picked up his end cautiously, until he was reassured that it wouldn't fall apart, and followed Gabe out of the closet. They took the stairs carefully, and though the cot was not heavy, he was grateful when they reached the top and were able to set their burden down. Jeannot looked around the upper level, seeing that it was no more comfortable-looking than the lower, and saw that one of the two doors was open. Guessing that Holmes was sulking in the other, he pointed to the open room. "That one is ours, I think," he said, and helped Gabe to carry the cot the few more steps into their room.

((New post ahoy!))


holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
The Byronic Cravat

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