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.
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.
Comments
"Hopefully not, because if he is," Gabe warned, "I'm not sticking around to disarm him, and if he hurts Jean I will hurt you." He smiled, though he wasn't really joking. "On that note, you lose pistol privileges the second you start going through withdrawal. We don't want you shooting anyone, yourself included."
"Oh, yes," Holmes groaned, beginning to regain something of his good humor. "That, I am quite looking forward to." He shrugged wryly. "It will mostly likely do me good."
"Oh, probably," Gabe agreed. "But that doesn't mean it's not going to be nasty. Hopefully Watson's medical profession will force him to stop throwing shoes at you at least long enough hold your head over the toilet." He fully intended never to let the Left Shoe Incident die.