Who: Hermann Gottlieb and Sherlock Holmes. What: Sherlock arrives in town. Where: Town. When: Backdated to Saturday, December 19. Warnings: Low. Status: Closed | Complete
Sherlock sighed heavily as he once again found himself in the town of Madison Valley. And, once again, without John Watson. He had no idea what this town had against him, but he was not having it. He wanted to be back in London. He was actually happy in London. Well, as happy as a person like Sherlock Holmes could be. Sure, he had been somewhat happy here as well, but Watson was in London. As far as he knew, Watson still wasn’t here in Madison Valley.
Though there was someone here that he actually somewhat liked. Someone he had forgotten about while in London, but remembered as soon as he saw the familiar face coming toward him on the street. Fancy that. One of the few people he actually liked in Madison Valley making an appearance his first day back in town.
Unless, of course, it happened to be someone who looked like his friend. Yes, he was calling Hermann his friend. Just don’t think he’s going to admit it out loud.
“Hermann,” he said, as he approached. “Miss me?” he asked, with a smirk.
Hermann wasn’t exactly the most social of people -- or social at all, really, he left that to his girlfriend and his ward -- but even despite that, he’d managed to bond in one way or another with a scant few people over the past couple years. Even if he’d had some of those same people end up going home on him. Such was the way of Madison Valley.
Of course, the way of Madison Valley was also occasionally to yank people back at random.
The sound of someone saying his name quickly got his attention. “Well, well,” he said dryly. “Look who it is.”
“Well, well,” he said, a slight smile playing along his lips. That’s all you’re getting, Hermann. The possibility of a smile. “Look who it is indeed.” At least Hermann remembered him. So he possibly hadn’t been gone from Madison Valley for too terribly long. Or Hermann had a good memory. Both were quite possible.
“I hope you didn’t miss me too terribly much, Hermann. I know you must have been heartbroken.”
He was teasing, yes. Or, at least, trying. He should get something for that, right?
“Anything fun and exciting happen while I was away?” That was highly unlikely, but he could trust Hermann to tell him the truth.
Hermann had to think about it for a moment. “Alright, you were here for that whole 80s thing, which means… I think the only really interesting thing -- because I’m hesitant to call it fun or exciting -- was another one of those fun age incidents.”
Of course, Sherlock hadn’t really been gone long enough for much of anything fun or exciting to happen -- or rather, anything that would fit his definition of the idea.
It was much along the lines of Hermann’s own definition, honestly.
Sherlock arched an eyebrow at Hermann’s words. “An age incident?” He considered the possibilities for a moment. “Let me guess. A bunch of children who aren’t supposed to be children running around, plus some adults who weren’t supposed to be adults?” It was the only thing he could think of when Hermann referenced the age incident.
He sighed softly, “I suppose that’s for the best. I wouldn’t want to have missed anything too terribly exciting.”
There was then a smirk from the detective, “Well, besides everyone missing me and pining away for me.”
“Exactly,” Hermann replied. “I was lucky enough to have escaped it, though I knew a few that were affected.”
Daisy had been adorable, not that he’d ever actually tell her that. And seeing Owen had been a trip and a half because it’d been like seeing a more confident version of himself at that age.
“It’s good to have you back, for the record,” Hermann said, with as much sentiment as he generally managed for most people. “After all, I don’t have nearly enough people who’ll put up with me.”
“I would say it is good to be back, but… I believe we both know that would be a complete and utter lie.” Hey, at least he was being honest. No one could call Sherlock Holmes anything but honest. Because he was honest to a fault.
“But I am glad you are still here, Hermann.” That much was true. He usually enjoyed the other man’s company. On the rare occasions he didn’t? He made himself scarce. He generally did that with people. Except Watson, because Watson was the exception to nearly every rule.
“Is WAMM still around?” he asked.
“It is,” Hermann replied with a nod. “One of the founders just recently returned, actually.” He vaguely remembered Wes, though he’d never actually spoken to the man.
“And I’m certain they’ll be glad to have you back.” Even if they would all be listening to him bitch for a while.
“Of course they will be,” he said, confidently. What else was Sherlock Holmes if not confident? Everyone knew that, even those who had just met him. Hermann had known him for some time now, so he was certain the man knew that about him already. “As long as Leo doesn’t think I am trying to steal Veronica from him again.”
He definitely wasn’t trying to steal anyone away from Leo. He liked Veronica, yes, but not like that. He liked her… differently.
“I better have the same apartment I had the last time I was here. I do not like too much change. Not at once.”
“You, not like change? I’m surprised,” Hermann said with a smirk and an amazingly straight face considering he really was trying not to laugh.
He did have a sense of humor after all, sometimes. Even if, as a general rule, it was such a dry one that most people didn’t even realize it. Not that he cared, really. The people who mattered in some way knew how he was.
Not that he had many of those people.
“Oh, I know, you are shocked.” Sherlock had the ability to not crack a smile, even when he was joking. That made it very difficult for people to know when and if he was joking. That was one thing he liked about himself. His ability to completely confuse people.
“I know I am usually one to roll with the punches. Take whatever life throws at me and just go with it. The only exception is Madison Valley, it seems.”
He knew Hermann would realize he was lying. He hated change with a passion. Hermann would know that.
Hermann was impressed that he managed to get that statement out with a straight face, honestly -- even Sherlock, who had a very good deadpan expression, should’ve cracked at that one.
Then again, Sherlock. He could really stick the lack of reaction when he wanted to. Hermann was pretty much the same way, just one of the many reasons they got along.
“And you roll so well, too.” Hermann’s words were about as dry as was possible.
“I do, don’t I?” he asked, and snickered softly. “I am nothing if not adaptable.” He nodded at this, as though it were the complete truth. Which, as they both knew, it was not. That was likely why he and Hermann got along so well. Because they knew each other well. Hermann was one of the few who knew Sherlock well. Watson was one who likely knew the man the best, though.
Which was why Sherlock was angry that Watson was not in Madison Valley.
“I suppose I should go find my apartment. And brave Walmart to get food. ...that is not high on the list of things I want to do, let me tell you.” While he would have preferred to stay here and talk to Hermann more, he knew there were things he needed to do.
“And I suppose I need to see if WAMM will hire me back.”