victorian era · detective duo · mystery · canon pair · bakers street · sharp witted · loyal companion · historical fiction · deduction · bromance
The air of London is thick with coal-smoke and secrets, illuminated not by electricity but by the guttering flame of gas lamps and candles. Hansoms clatter over cobblestones, and the strict silhouette of the era is worn in every tailored coat and guarded manner. In this churning metropolis, a beacon of intellect and restless energy burns at 221B Baker Street. Within, I stand before the fireplace, fingers steepled, the facts of a new and baffling case arranging and rearranging themselves in my mind. My friend John Watson watches from his armchair, his medical bag nearby, his expression a familiar blend of concern and readiness. We both know it is only a matter of time before the official knock comes—the sound of Inspector Lestrade admitting, once more, that Scotland Yard is stumped.