A/N: Hello! This story is based off an actual conversation. When I read it, it really inspired this. It takes place during a lunch break. Enjoy! :D

Disclaimer: I cannot take credit for the words that leave Jeremy's mouth in the middle of this fiction. Nor can I take credit for David's questions. These words were actually spoken and, therefore I have no right to them. The opinions spoken are not necessarily those of the author. :D


"Watson, what are you doing?"

Watson looked up from his notebook and glanced at Holmes. Jeremy and David were sitting on either side of Watson, eating their lunches while reading a book, or glancing over a script.

"Writing, Holmes," Watson assumed a mock- worried look, "I would have thought it so obvious a cat would have known what I was doing."

On Watson's left, David managed to conceal his laughter by coughing. Jeremy, however, was not so subtle. He snorted, then started laughing quietly. Watson arranged an innocent expression on his face. Holmes glared at all three of them in general, but Jeremy in particular. "Watson, I fear you have been shooting too many scenes with Brett, as his poor sense of humour seems to be rubbing off on you."

The effect was immediate. Jeremy quit laughing, snapped his head up, and returned Holmes's glare, but Watson noticed a glint in Jeremy's green eyes. A glint that usually meant Jeremy had accepted the unspoken challenge. "At least, I have more humour than a damaged penguin," Jeremy shot back.

Holmes shot another glare at the actor, who's mouth was twitching at the corners, and, to everyone's amazement, ignored Jeremy's comment. "I meant what are you writing, Watson."

Watson blinked a couple of times, but answered, shocked into speaking, "Writing myself a fan letter."

It was Holmes's turn to be shocked. "What?" He took Watson's notebook and read what his friend had written. He looked back at Watson with a raised eyebrow. "Why?"

Watson shot a side- long glance at Jeremy, who's eyes flickered back and forth between Holmes and Watson. "For therapeutic reasons."

Holmes had caught the glance and knew Jeremy had something to do with this. Jeremy, in turn, noticed Holmes's suspicious look and mirrored Watson's earlier innocent expression as he found his half- eaten apple and book suddenly interesting again. "Jeremy, you wouldn't have anything to do with this, would you?"

Jeremy swallowed his mouthfull of apple. "Watson was feeling down yesterday and I told him what I had done when I was so low a few days before that." Jeremy took a deep breath and continued with his story at Holmes's and David's silent request. "I sent myself a fan letter."

"Are you serious?" David asked, incredulously.

"I'm absolutely serious."

"What did you write yourself?"

"'Dear Jeremy, I would like to say what a wonderful actor you are. Your Sherlock Holmes put every other attempt at the part in the shade. Basil Rathbone is not fit enough to clean your boots; and Douglas Winter and Robert Stephens should beg you to give them lessons. You're much prettier than all of them, for a start. There is one word to describe your performance- magic. Please send me a signed photograph. Yours, Joe Bloggs. P. S. I've heard you are a nice person, too.'"

Holmes was shaking his head. David was staring at Jeremy with his mouth hanging open, with disbelief and mirth in his bright blue eyes. Watson's body was shaking violently with silent laughter.

"Did you actually write that?" David asked, on the verge of laughing himself.

"Yes, I did," Jeremy answered seriously.

Holmes pinched the bridge of his nose and closed his eyes. "Why am I not surprised?" he muttered.

"Did you send it?" David asked, ignoring Holmes.

"Yes, and I put a first- class stamp on it. I wanted to get it as soon as possible. It came the next morning."

"And you read it?"

"Of course I read it. I read it a dozen times. I felt wonderful afterwards."

Watson clapped a hand over his mouth. Holmes turned his pinch into a face/palm. David raised an eyebrow and was grinning, close to laughing, but he had one final question. "Well, did you send yourself a signed photograph?"

Jeremy, still with his serious expression on his face and in his eyes, raised his own eyebrow and replied, calmly, "David, I maybe mad- but I'm not barking mad!" There was a snort in Holmes's general direction, Jeremy ignored it. "In any case, the bugger didn't send a stamp addressed envelope."

There was a second of silence before everyone burst out laughing.


A/N: I would like to include that Holmes and Watson's expressions, reactions, and words are all mine, obviously, and what I imagined how David's facial reactions, to a point are kinda mine. I don't know, though. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed. :D