Sep. 22nd, 2012 08:04 pm
lightconductor: (let me tell you this)
Follow-up to this.

It had all come out. Though he'd been aware of the existence of the Hulk, vaguely, for some time, now he -- and everyone else -- knew the true facts of the matter. There'd been a public message, and an apology, and it was all very plain.

Not quite so, to Watson. While publicly calling Bruce out was certainly an option, and his anger made that rather tempting, it was not wise, and certainly unduly cruel. Even in his anger, he wasn't that. So it was that he was now in front of Bruce's door, and he was pounding insistently. If Bruce was in, then he damn well was going to open the door for him.

"Banner! Banner, if you're in, I am going to speak with you."
lightconductor: (Default)
The library was quiet, peaceful, and Watson had settled down in a comfy easy chair with a few thick books, medical texts, psychology texts, whatever had struck his fancy. He was flipping through them idly, occassionally humming in interest, or frowning. A century of medical progress was more than a little daunting at times, miles beyond what he had learned in medical school.

But it was no less fascinating.
lightconductor: (I am trying to deduce)
Watson's brain hadn't quite caught up with the reality of his situation. That they were in danger, he understood. That Moriarty was behind it, he grasped easily. That it was necessary to flee the country, he could not argue with even if he wasn't happy about. And it was easy to understand why he had to take this convoluted route to the station, separate from Holmes, even if he didn't naturally fall into step with whatever Holmes's latest plans were.

But here he was, at the station in one piece, still with the feeling that he only knew half of what was going on, or even less than half, and there was no sign of Holmes. Their compartment was occupied, too, by some Italian priest who seemed to speak little English, if any at all, and could not be made to understand he was in the wrong compartment.

Where was Holmes? Watson was beginning to feel more than a little desperate. Had something happened? Was this part of their escape plan? Had there been a last minute change? Ought Watson to get off the train and see if he could, somehow, manage to track him down? Should he stay on the train and wait to see if Holmes rejoined him later on?

He had no idea, but his heart was pounding away in his throat.

The train was pulling out of the station, then, and Watson was craning his head, searching for sign of Holmes, and seeing nothing. He hardly looked at the priest across from him, clutching at the sides of the window in his anxiety.
lightconductor: (Default)
This is a follow-up to this thing Rachelle and I have been carried away by which follows the return of Holmes and Watson to their own time after having escaped/released/whatever from the resort. Big chunks of what happens here is pretty much what happens in The Adventure of the Empty House, including the Catallus (idek), but hey, why mess with a classic?

He thought it must be the Catallus that kept that chance encounter in his mind. )


lightconductor: (Default)

September 2012

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