"Hm?" Watson shifted a little, wrapping his arm around Holmes to keep him close. His brain was fogged and sleepy in a post-coital haze, wonderfully content, and this was where he had hoped the evening would lead in any event. He couldn't quite grasp what Holmes was talking about. "Personally, I think you have quite a few things over Shakespear, but what do you mean?"

He kissed Holmes's forehead. The charming Miss Morstan wasn't even remotely in his thoughts. She really hadn't stood much of a chance, with this to hold his attention.