Food series 10

[le_russe_satan]

Title: Violet ice & Sushi.
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Holmes/Watson, slash
A/N:  violet ice and sushi ideas by nunewesen and pblazer respectively. 

 

Viola odorata.

‘Deep violets, you liken to The kindest eyes that look on you, Without a thought disloyal.’
Elizabeth Barrett Browning,

There was an full-length portrait of Franz Joseph I and his Empress consort, Elizabeth, in the hall, their eternally young faces gazing benevolently on each and every visitor. The proprietor of the small yet expensive hotel they were staying at was of Austrian extraction and delighted in educating his favoured guests in the peculiarities and history of his native country.
 
  For the past few days the man also delighted having Holmes as his guest, the detective’s somewhat peculiar and at times Bohemian manners no doubt reminding him of the ‘free spirit’ attitude of the beautiful Austrian Empress. Therefore it came as no surprise to Watson that on their last evening the dessert was brought in by the proprietor himself.
‘I had to insist that our chef prepare this wonderful dish for you, Mr. Holmes,’ beamed the man at Holmes, for all intents and purposes oblivious to Watson’s presence. ‘Of  course, they are only starting to bloom but we were able to obtain a small quantity of most delightfully fragrant violets. I chose them myself,’ with these reassuring words, he placed the dish with violet ice in front of Holmes and delicately nudged it towards him.
 
 Watson observing this scene with barely concealed amusement half-expected Holmes to refuse, but he accepted the proffered delicacy most graciously and hummed approvingly tasting it.
 The proprietor gazed upon this action with delight for a few moments then, snapping back to reality, he hurried away.
‘I rather think I should leave you here, Holmes, in the care of good Mr. Kreisel. I fear he has succeeded where I have not.’
Holmes raised an eyebrow.
‘Indeed, Watson?’
‘Yes, he manages to get you to eat without so much as having to say please,’ smirked Watson.
 Holmes turned to look consideringly at the proprietor, currently engaged in an amiable conversation with a married couple sitting nearby.
‘I wonder,’ he mused, ‘what else he could get me to do without so much as a please.’
 
Only by most judicious and insistent application of his hands and mouth was Holmes able to coax Watson into a better humour some time later.

Oryza saliva.

‘Same old slippers, Same old rice, Same old glimpse of paradise.‘ William James Lampton.

‘It is a native dish of Tokyo, my birthplace, or rather this particular variant is,’ explained Mr. Hanaya, a man who by some was considered an unofficial ambassador of Japan in Britain. The man undoubtedly was in the centre of the Japanese community in London, having achieved a certain prominence during the establishment of Imperial College of Engineering.
 
 A servant came in, his stance and walk humbler than any of his British counterparts. In a quiet, hushed tone he said something in Japanese and Mr. Hanaya rose.
‘I am very sorry, as I expected, though you have solved the case, Mr. Holmes, I still have some loose ends to tie up and one such loose end seems to require my immediate attention. Please, do not wait for me.’
 Mr. Hanaya left the dining room, followed by his servant and they were left alone. Watson shifted from the what their host called ‘sitting in seiza’, which was not doing his injured leg any good, into a more relaxed cross-legged position.

 ‘Well, I for one, am hungry…,’ Watson picked up the chopsticks and hesitated, unsure of what to try first. Only then he noticed that Holmes was eyeing the eating utensils with considerable distrust.
‘Something wrong, Holmes?’
‘I… I don’t know how one uses them,’ admitted the detective with a frown.
Watson put his own chopsticks down carefully.
‘It really is quite easy…’ he put an arm around Holmes, taking hold of his hand and carefully adjusting the long fingers into required positions, then using his free hand he put the chopsticks between them.

 Watson’s warmth against his side and the Doctor’s gentle guiding touch almost immediately sent a shiver through Holmes’s body: the case that dragged on for almost three weeks left them no strength or time to share anything but the merest of caresses.
  Usually, so unobservant when it came to solving cases, Watson was only too perceptive when it came to the reactions of Holmes’s body. His fingers slid along Holmes’s own, caressing every millimetre of skin, or so it seemed to Holmes, until the chopsticks clattered onto the table and the food was forgotten.