"What utter rot," Watson scoffed. He found himself watching Holmes kiss his wrist, his expression fond, faintly wondering. It was still so precious to see this, to experience it. "Why should I object? I am not so foolish. I shall always place a few hours work in priority over anything as frivolous as some quiet reading."

Watson smiled. He sat up enough to flick the remains of his cigarette into the fireplace, neatly over the grate, and settled back down, not having removed his other hand from Holmes's grasp. "No, I merely wish to be certain that you are not taunting me with plans you have no intention of following up on."