old fic and old lessons learned anew
Feb. 2nd, 2011 04:25 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
prof_pangaeasleep doesn't seem to be my friend tonight, so somehow i ended up flicking through the files in my computer and i found this excerpt from an old story i haven't worked on in years. i doubt i'll ever finish it, but right now, at four in the morning, that seems a shame. ah well.
Once, soon after he and Watson had first moved into their rooms in Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson had found him sitting on the stoop, contemplating some truly atrocious acts after having been foolish enough to surreptitiously attend a lecture by Professor Moriarty. It had concerned the usefulness of non-Euclidean geometry in physics. It was late, and damp, and cold, and he never knew why she had been awake at such an hour. She had found him sitting on the stoop and brought him inside, into the kitchen, and had made him tea, sat with him, talked to him about nothing, really, and, somehow, made him feel human again. He was so affected by this simple act that for some weeks afterward he felt as if he might be in love with her, a concept that frightened him immensely. It taught him the power of kindness -- its effectiveness as a tool and the necessity of shielding himself from its terrible effects.
He was young then; young and naive, for he truly thought that it would be possible to protect himself from the power of emotion, from the effortless dominion of love. Experience had taught him the folly of such pathetic arrogance.
Once, soon after he and Watson had first moved into their rooms in Baker Street, Mrs. Hudson had found him sitting on the stoop, contemplating some truly atrocious acts after having been foolish enough to surreptitiously attend a lecture by Professor Moriarty. It had concerned the usefulness of non-Euclidean geometry in physics. It was late, and damp, and cold, and he never knew why she had been awake at such an hour. She had found him sitting on the stoop and brought him inside, into the kitchen, and had made him tea, sat with him, talked to him about nothing, really, and, somehow, made him feel human again. He was so affected by this simple act that for some weeks afterward he felt as if he might be in love with her, a concept that frightened him immensely. It taught him the power of kindness -- its effectiveness as a tool and the necessity of shielding himself from its terrible effects.
He was young then; young and naive, for he truly thought that it would be possible to protect himself from the power of emotion, from the effortless dominion of love. Experience had taught him the folly of such pathetic arrogance.
