This Game Was Designed to Hurt

The Disastrous Dinner

Evelyn Turner wondered how she had been dragged into this situation. Her best friend, arguably her only friend, and roommate, Mary, had somehow convinced Evelyn to accompany Mary to dinner with her future husband, Dr. John Watson. Well, Dr. John Watson and his friend, the infamous Sherlock Holmes. Evelyn had no intention of ever meeting Dr. Watson if she could help it, feeling as though he was taking away her best friend, but Mary had had enough and was finally forcing them to meet.

Evelyn and Mary had been picked up by Dr. Watson, and the three endured an incredibly awkward carriage ride before arriving at The Royal. The three walked into The Royal and Watson announced the reservation to the host before being told that a member of the party had arrived early. As they approached the table, they noticed Holmes sitting down in what looked to be a meditative state.

"Holmes," Dr. Watson greeted. Holmes merely hummed in reply and opened his eyes. "You're early."

"Fashionably," Holmes stated as he snapped his pocket watch shut. He then stood up to greet the doctor and the two women who were with him.

Watson began the introductions, "Miss Mary Morstan." He seemed proud to be presenting his future wife, the affection for her was clear on his face.

"Oh my goodness. What a pleasure. For the life of me, I don't know why it's taken him so long to introduce us properly," Holmes greeted before kissing the back of Mary's hand. He then looked over to Evelyn in curiosity. "And who might this be?"

"And Miss-" Dr. Watson began to introduce her before Evelyn cut him off.

"Doctor Evelyn Turner," she held out her hand to Holmes and he took it and delicately kissed the back.

"A pleasure," he murmured. He stared at her for a moment, still looking quite curious, before they all sat down then and Mary struck up a conversation.

"Really the pleasure is all ours," Mary stated. "It really is quite a thrill to meet you, Mr. Holmes. I've heard so much about you. I have a pile of detective novels at home..." Mary began to look bashful, "Collins, Poe."

"It's true," Dr. Watson stated. Evelyn nodded in agreement.

Mary continued, "It can seem a little far-fetched though, at times. Making these grand assumptions out of tiny details-" Holmes cut her off then.

"That's not quite right is it? In fact, the little details are by far, the most important." He looked to Dr. Watson as an example, "Take Watson-" This time Mary cut Holmes off.

"I intend to," Mary jested while staring at the doctor. Holmes merely gave a chuckle, though Evelyn knew there was no humor to it.

Holmes continued, "See his walking stick over there? African snakewood. Hiding a blade of high tensile steel," Holmes partially unsheathed the blade before putting it back. "Few were rewarded to the veterans of the Afghan war, so I can assume, he's a decorated soldier. Strong, brave," Watson adjusted his clothing and sat a bit straighter, "born to be a man of action, and neat, like all military men." Holmes wasn't quite finished though, "And now I check his pockets. Ah, a stamp from the boxing match. Now I can infer that he's a bit of a gambler. I'd keep an eye on that dowry if I were you," Holmes cautioned Mary.

"Those days are behind me," Watson stated sternly. Holmes, however, seemed determined to make John look bad.

"Right, behind you. It's cost us the rent more than once."

Mary could see what Holmes was doing, and in an effort to spare Dr. Watson from Holmes' torment, as well as test the detective a bit, Mary replied, "Well with all due respect Mr. Holmes, you know John very well. What about a complete stranger? What can you tell about me?"