Disclaimer: I would say I don't own Sherlock Holmes etc., but you knew that already...
'About what you said to Phelps…'
'A little more specific, if you please, my dear fellow.'
'Don't prevaricate, Holmes. You know perfectly well what I mean.'
'That speech you made… about roses being, well, proof of a merciful God, and all that…'
'What about it?'
'Well… I just wanted to say… er…'
'My faithful Boswell at a loss for words? I must notify the Strand immediately.'
'Dash it, Holmes, just shut up for a moment, would you? I'm trying to pay you a compliment, and you're making it deuced difficult!'
'Thank you. I'll admit, I'm no stranger to your love of the dramatic, but… it's just so unusual for you to wax poetic like that over anything… I have to say, you took me quite by surprise… and…'
'It was beautiful, Holmes.'
'Er, thank you, Watson.'
'…oh, never mind… it's not important.'
'You want to know if there was any particular reason why I suddenly lapsed into poetic musings about flowers?'
'Well, yes, if you've no objection to…'
'To own the truth, Watson…'
'I have not the slightest idea. It seemed vaguely fitting at the time, but as to why, I really couldn't say. I must confess, I find that most disquieting.'
'The world's greatest detective cannot deduce the workings of his own mind? I must notify Scotland Yard immediately.'
'Seriously, Holmes? I'd say the answer is very simple – I'm rubbing off on you. You needn't look quite so horrified, either.'
'If I thought for a moment, Watson, that that childish conclusion was an accurate one…'
'Oh, come now, Holmes, you must admit it would only be fair. After years of assisting you on your cases, you expect me to know your methods and apply them. And in spite of all your negative comments about mawkish sensationalism, you've been familiar with my work for almost as long – I've seen your tattered copies of the Strand, don't bother denying it – so why shouldn't you be absorbing some of my methods? Considering your usual style of writing, it could only be an improvement – ow!'
'My dear fellow, I am so terribly sorry. I lost my balance for a moment.'
'Hmph, which explains why your foot landed on mine so heavily.'
'There, you see, Watson? I'll make a detective of you yet. Oh, and Watson?'
'If you dare to mention that sentimental lapse of mine to Lestrade or anyone else at the Yard…'
'Mum's the word, old boy.'
First published fanfic ever, yay! Sequel and brownies for those who R&R. For those who don't leave a review, pay no attention to that little red dot on your forehead. It just wants to be friends...