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shernola · 2 months ago

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Im bored af again so part 2 electric boogaloo, book 3 let’s go. I should probably do book 1. Whatever. Book 3 is the one Watson is kidnapped in.

Enola is just like. Rehashing the events of the last book and everything and plotting ANOTHER fake identity (seriously girl. I think you have an addiction).

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Dr. Watson was the epitome of a gallant, sturdy English gentleman, willing to help anyone. I liked him tremendously, almost as much as I liked my brother—for, despite everything, I did adore Sherlock, although I knew him mainly through the very popular stories his friend Watson wrote about him, which I read as avidly as anyone in England.

…

Ever since, I had wondered how my brother had reacted when, returning to his rooms at dawn, he had discovered my burnt cast-off nun’s habit in his grate and a few items missing from his wardrobe. I imagined he had felt utterly chagrinned. Oddly, this thought did not make me smile.

Now, if it had been Mycroft…

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“Dr. Watson is the literal perfect guy and the epitome of what a man should be. I like him ALMOST as much as Sherlock.�� “Sherlock being upset does NOT make me happy. If Mycroft was pissed I wouldn’t care though.” I feel like I’m focusing on the comparisons to Mycroft a little too much for something focused on Sherlock, but the contrast is important. She has two brothers and Mycroft can suck a dick. The Brother aspect is not the reason she loves Sherlock.

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Enola is in the Watson Residence chatting with Mary Watson digging for info on John’s disappearance, and Sherlock comes in unexpectedly, and HOLY FUCK.

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I regret to say that I gasped aloud, both in terror and in admiration—those two emotions seem always to attend my dealings with my renowned brother. To me his craggy features were the most handsome in England, his grey eyes the most brilliant, and if circumstances were different… but there was no time for pointless dreams.

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ENOLA. ENOLA. WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN BY THAT. ENOLA ANSWER ME. ENOLA.

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If one is literally trembling with ill-mixed emotion, one might as well make the best use of it. Relieving Mrs. Watson of the necessity of remembering my name, I squealed, “Is this really Mr. Holmes, the great detective?” Simulating great girlish excitement, I hurried forward, smiling, nay, grinning like a skull. “Oh, I am so thrilled!” I squeaked, my voice a full octave above its usual level.

---

what “ill-mixed emotions” Enola. Why is pretending to be a fangirl in love with him the easiest expression of those “ill-mixed emotions” Enola. Good god this book is already more than I remembered.

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okay this next part is WAY after the last part mentioned, it went like 100 pages without a single Sherlock incident (probably realized she was acting a little too in love with him and overcorrected), but Enola has found Watson and has tricked Mycroft into going to save him and now she’s watching the reunions from a window

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Even better: Here came a hansom cab with horse most illegally at the gallop, and as the conveyance jolted to a halt, out of it sprang a tall, whip-thin man who shook his old friend’s hand again and again. Never have I seen my brother Sherlock happier.

Grinning with delight even as my heart ached—a familiar bittersweet feeling, that of enjoying affection from afar—I watched until they all went inside, the cab and the barouche drove away, and it became apparent that the moment of drama was over.

---

Not much to say here, just. watching from afar. The Yearning.

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and we’re at the end! Conversation between Sherlock and Watson!

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“In your goodness of heart you do not reproach me, my dear Watson, but I reproach myself for neglecting an obvious avenue of inquiry. You would be in Colney Hatch still if it were not for my sister.”

Although fully aware that Watson knows of his sister’s existence—they had, after all, both been present the night Enola, in a nun’s black garb, had burst into Watson’s house with a half-killed lady who required the doctor’s care—although there has been more than sufficient opportunity, this is the first time the great detective has willingly mentioned her to his close friend Watson. As the touchy topic is introduced, the good doctor is careful not to react, not even to blink.

“Ah. Your sister,” he says as if he and Holmes converse about Enola as routinely as they mention Holmes’s monograph on the identification of different types of cigar ashes. “What do you make of your sister, Holmes?”

There is a silence which extends for several moments as the great detective stares, focused on nothing within the gentlemen’s saloon at Simpson’s, his expression most difficult to read.

“I think,” he says at last, “that it is a great pity she will not trust in me.”

---

he wants her so bad. makes sure Watson acknowledges that his SISTER found him his awesome SISTER who is SO COOL and CAPABLE. I’m convinced that he fell for her when he found the burned nun habit in his fireplace last book. Even if he doesn’t realize. The Yearning.

#shernola

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landmine-enola · 2 years ago

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Come get ur update besties I'm on a roll

#shernola #sherlock x enola

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deadwolfdonoteat · 2 years ago

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I now know the pain of loving a rarepair with only 20 works on AO3. 😭

#21 works to be exact #i need more shernola #shernola

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dead-dove-diner · 2 years ago

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🐾, 🫘

Do you plan on writing for any fests or competitions?

i know better than to attempt to wrangle my ADD arse into gear to write for anything with a deadline 😖

Spill the beans. What’s a new project you’re doing this year?

WELL There's the Shernola fic, obviously- that's a couple of chapters so it'll take a bit of time. I also have some Witcher, Teen Wolf, and Star Wars WIPs that i'll hopefully be able to make a dent in. Bestiality, Incest, and Underage all the way to the finish line!

#DDD asks and answers

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cravingpepsimax · 2 months ago

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question: how open are you to listening to rants about incest ships from fandoms that have like. literally nobody in them and so I’ve got literally nobody to rant to. because I’m gnawing on the bars of my fucking cage right now over enola holmes/sherlock holmes (from the books AND the movies) and the last shernola fic was in fucking 2023 and the tag is a barren desert. and I need to scream into something that’s not a void.

i’m sat. tell me more i am Intrigued. i know absolute fuckall about this but i ❤️ incest so

#shernola #like granola ❤️

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cravingpepsimax · 2 months ago

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shernola anon here one last time. going out with a bang. i'm here to talk about my fankids.

so we've got 3 of them! a girl, a boy, and then another girl. the girl names are kinda weird HOWEVER. thats because Eudoria Holmes named Enola that because spelled backwards, it's Alone. and i wanted them to name their daughters similarly, except better words than Alone.

now behold, the children of Sherlock Holmes and his Totally Not His Sister Enola With A Fake Identity wife "Viola" Holmes

Evitressa "Evie" Holmes (17)

TALL girl. straight, sorta mousey-brown hair she keeps to her shoulders. dark-brown-almost-black eyes. big birthmark on her thigh thats never actually visible for anyone. thick ass glasses or else she's basically blind. ambidextrous. the most professional wardrobe of the siblings

not actually too big on detective stuff, but is SUPER into politics. she likes to be IMPORTANT. this is victorian england, however, so her opportunities are limited, but she's determined to end up in the history books before she's 20. probably gonna make it there tbh. uncle mycroft trembles in fear when he sees her walk into the building. also his favorite. pretends that she's the most normal person in the family but they've all seen her walk into a bar fight and walk out 10 minutes later having secured the support of everyone involved for her latest campaign. and that is neither something a normal person CAN do, or something a normal person would TRY to do. they think that if queen of england was an elected position, they'd already be the royal family. they're still keeping an eye on that just in case.

Dorian Holmes (14)

short and scrawny. dark brown hair like sherlock that he tries to style and fails miserably. pale brown eyes. was actually born without a left foot (halfway down the calf) but his parents are more than capable of getting him prosthetics. his favorite ones have hidden compartments. pretty casual, i'm-probably-going-to-get-dirty outfits.

inherited both his parents detective skills and passion, and is probably going to inherit the detective agency when they die (because theyre NOT just retiring). always getting into shit he shouldn't be but always wiggles his way out (usually by pulling the Who Me? I'm Just A Poor Disabled Child card). loves doing logic puzzles when he's not getting caught up in shit or stealing case files from his parents.

Desuma "Deedee" Holmes (10)

currently short but thats because shes 10. gonna be somewhere in the mid-range as an adult. long slightly curly dark brown hair thats always tied back in the quickest thing she can do with it (usually braid or ponytail). brown/blue heterochromia. double-jointed basically everywhere, she's very good at being frightening with it. one of those big red birthmarks on her shoulder. not the biggest fan of dresses and her parents are pretty good about that, but there are Occasions.

got the detective skills, but none of the case-solving passion. currently the biggest secret-dealer in the kiddy social circle of the neighborhood. will probably grow up into a gossip columnist or investigative journalist, something to do with media. gives evie tips on her ongoing projects that are always dead-on or are at least able to point evie in the right direction on her own. evie wonders how the fuck this child knows so much about politics. Nobody Suspects The Small Child Sitting In The Gutter Next To Town Hall!

okay i think thats all. i think i'm shernolad out. maybe. until i reread one of the books in like a month and immediately go running back into the ao3 tag like a bird flying into a glass window. <3

YESSSS OMGOMGOMG I LOOOOVE THEM muy Babies…

anon u should totally make a sideblog. i know nothing abt the source (beyond what you’ve told me) but i love these guys sm. aaaaa

#shernola

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shernola · 2 months ago

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so I’m rereading Book 3: The Case Of The Bizarre Bouquet and I’m making a post about it but like. I think this needs a separate post because I NEED to talk about this now and when I tell you my heart STOPPED

THE MOST HANDSOME IN ENGLAND. “IF CIRCUMSTANCES WERE DIFFERENT” THEN WHAT. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF “CIRCUMSTANCES” WERE DIFFERENT ENOLA. WHAT ARE YOUR “POINTLESS DREAMS”? Literally just fucking said “my brother is so hot but unspecified circumstances prevent unspecified dreams”. Just fucking SAY you want him goddamn Enola. Just say you want to date your brother but you can’t do that because he’s your brother. Holy fucking hell.

#shernola

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cravingpepsimax · 2 months ago

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hi yes hello shernola anon again. I’m back on my bullshit

another thing is like. I don’t know if this is something that was actually said in the books/movies (probably books, the movies don’t have much in the way of internal monologue) or if my brain is just straight up lying to me, but I’m 90% sure that Enola was like I wouldn’t be so opposed to marriage if my future husband was anything like Sherlock, but knowing Mycroft, that’s not what he’s going to arrange. And like. Girl?? ��My brother is the only person I can see myself happily married to”. Enola.

also. Watson is kidnapped in an Enola book and she decides that she HAS to solve the case. And unlike most of her other cases she’s poached from Sherlock, this wasn’t to Prove Her Worth. This was because she KNOWS what Watson means to Sherlock and she NEEDS to get him back. Despite this meaning that she has to literally rent the apartment DIRECTLY ACROSS THE STREET FROM 221B BAKER STREET. Of course it’s with a fake identity crafted specifically for this apartment, who do you take her for?

And she keeps putting her freedom on the line like that because she cares so much about Sherlock’s happiness, despite knowing full well that Sherlock is ABSOLUTELY going to be putting his whole effort into the investigation too. By “putting her freedom on the line”, I mean visiting Watson’s wife as ANOTHER fake identity, and then SHERLOCK comes in. And what does she do to make him not interested in this random woman who vaguely resembles his missing sister with a known proclivity for facial prosthetics? Pretends to be a fan who’s in love with him. ENOLA. And then she does solve it and get Watson back, and then there’s a moment of quiet longing when she’s watching out the window of the apartment she got ACROSS THE STREET.

and I don’t remember any specifics at the moment, but I’m pretty sure there’s at least a few times where Enola was in a Need To Trust Someone situation and defaulted to Sherlock. Like, Brain Off Need Trust, Find Brother Who I’m Participating In Mind Games With Who’s Trying To Hunt Me. Yes. Flawless plan.

they make me ill. and I’m still not even at the fan kids but now I’ve got work.

WHAT!!!

enola. girl. ngl this is kind of stan-coded #tbh

yeah man the only person i’d be happy getting married to is someone like my brother ? aight. ok

#shernola

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cravingpepsimax · 2 months ago

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OKAY SO FUCKING SHERNOLA. Enola Holmes is a book series by I think Nancy Springer I can’t be bothered to google atm but it’s one of those What If Sherlock And Mycroft Had A Sister things. But it’s so well done. Because there’s a massive age gap between the brothers and Enola, she was raised by their mother on the countryside and Eudoria Holmes was NOT the typical mother, she taught Enola to *gasp* be her own person!

but because their dad is dead, when Eudoria goes missing (not dead, that’s important to the story but not the incest so I’m not gonna elaborate) when she’s 14 or 16 it’s fuzzy, she’s put into the custody of Mycroft. However! Enola always admired Sherlock and his cases and wants to solve cases of her own. So when Mycroft tries sending her away to finishing school she just fucking breaks out or something (it’s been a hot minute since I read/watched the source material. Mostly read. The books have way more than the movies. Mostly because there’s like 10 of them and only 2 movies)

and she runs away to London where she establishes like 20 false identities and does a whole lot of shit, including but not limited to, starting a detective business and pretending to be the detectives secretary/wife who goes to scenes and “takes notes for her boss/husband”. Nobody has ever met the “detective”. She still gets business.

despite all this, Mycroft is still determined to get Enola into that finishing school so he can marry her off well. Sherlock is like Yeah yeah whatever will you shut up if I help. And so he helps Mycroft look. But the thing is that Sherlock can’t find her. She always has the leg up. He gets close sometimes, but she always slips away. He gets impressed. He has never met a woman who can match his freak so perfectly before.

enola and Sherlock start like. Having fun with it. Like it’s sometimes angst like I Wish I Could Just Be With My Brother And Not Have To Hide, but sometimes it’s also like Yeah I KNOW you figured out the secret code I use to write to mom so now I’m gonna make you go and stand in the rain for like an hour because you think you intercepted a meeting message. have fun fucko.

and by the end of it, Sherlock finally catches up to Enola and is like Holy Shit you’re incredible. Like it would be a disservice to existence for me to help shove you into finishing school. I’m gonna convince Mycroft to stop being such a bitch about it because you should keep matching my freak forever actually.

and he does convince Mycroft! And I don’t even think she goes into either of their custody, I think they just let her keep living under the 20 fake identities she crafted. But my Incest Perfect World I like to imagine that Sherlock did NOT end up convincing Mycroft, so now Sherlock knows about the fake identities but Mycroft doesn’t and eventually they’re like Well. Mycroft hasn’t seen Enola in like 5 years. There’s a perfectly good fake identity right there. What better way to prove that This Is Definitely Not A Fake Identity than marrying THE Sherlock Holmes.

also I imagine that kids-wise, Sherlock would refuse to even consider mixing his genes with anyone who would not be a benefit to his own. And he already knows that Enola is the perfect woman for him. So I have some fan kids too but this is already like a million words and it’s midnight and I’ve got school tomorrow woooo maybe I’ll come back tomorrow and talk more. We’ll see.

YESSSSS GOATED GOATED GOATED

smth about false identities and sibcest…. what is the connection

also sherlock being impressed is fucking crazyyy. he found someone that matched his freak (who is also his sister)

#shernola

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shernola · 2 months ago

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since most people following me probably know jack shit about the source material at this point, i'm rereading The Case Of The Left-Handed Lady because that's the only one I can find atm (book 2). knocked it out in a single afternoon because these are short af. below the cut is liveblogging of the shernola parts as i read it. probably gonna be very long but i'm already having fun so wheeee. Shernola Propaganda.

one single page in and we've got this conversation between Sherlock and Mycroft after an extended argument where Sherlock is already in support of Enola not going to finishing school.

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“Logic is not everything.” (this is Sherlock)

“Certainly this is the first time I have ever heard you say so!” No longer placid or comfortable, the stout man sits forward in his armchair, his boots (sheathed by impeccable spats) planted on the parquet floor. He demands, “Why are you so – so overridden by emotion, so affected? Why is locating our rebellious runaway sister different than any other little problem – ”

“Because she is our sister!”

“So much younger that you have met her exactly twice in your life.”

The tall, hawk-faced, restless one actually stands still. “Once would have been enough.” His quick, sharp voice has slowed and softened, but he does not look at his brother; rather, he appears to stare through the oak-panelled walls of the club-room to some distant place – or time.

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"Once would have been enough" for you to throw down with Mycroft about her, huh? (also. they didnt grow up together and have only met twice. those incest-bad connections in the brain have NOT formed for these two). Sherlock Holmes saying that Logic Isn't Everything because he loves his baby sister. Hm.

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and then it cuts to Enola's perspective, where she's already established a business for The Finding Of Lost People And Things, posing as Ivy Meshle, the secretary of the ACTUAL "guy in charge" who always just so happens to be out at the moment. and her first client is none other than John Watson, on Sherlock's behalf

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“Doubtless you know that I boarded for several years with Mr. Sherlock Holmes at the beginning of his astounding career, but as I am now married and in general practice as a medical doctor, I see far less of him than I did formerly. It has not escaped my notice, however, that since this past summer he has seemed uneasy in his mind, and over the past few months positively distraught, to the extent that he is not eating properly, nor sleeping, and I have become concerned for him not only as a friend but as a physician. He has lost weight, his colour is unhealthy, and he has grown quite melancholy and irritable.”

Busily noting down all this for “Dr. Ragostin,” I was able to keep my head lowered over my desk so that Dr. Watson would not see my face. A good thing, for I am sure dismay showed; tears formed in my eyes. My brother, paragon of the coldly logical mind, distraught? Unable to eat or sleep? I had no idea that he was capable of such depth of feeling. Least of all about me.

...

I shivered with fear.

Of my brother Sherlock, whom I adored.

He was my hero. He was my nemesis. I very nearly worshipped him. But if he tracked me down, I would lose my freedom forever.

Yet – he was distraught on my account?

I could no longer tell myself that I had hurt nothing except his pride.

...

My other brother, Mycroft, entered my thoughts only briefly; I did not care whether his pride were hurt. Although quite as intelligent as Sherlock, otherwise he rather resembled last night’s left-over cooked potato, cold and inert. He did not care for me enough to try to find me.

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"Sherlock is suffering because he's worried about me? Sherlock is showing emotions because of me? This is the worst news I've ever heard in my life." "I very nearly worshipped him." "Mycroft doesn't give a flying fuck about me. Potato man." Your bias is showing

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someone has attempted to garotte Enola as one of her OTHER identities, The Sister Of The Streets, where she dresses as a nonverbal nun and goes out helping homeless people

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But on this particular day, with the pain in my throat exacerbated by a lump that had arisen therein, I suddenly, achingly realised that I wanted – I wanted something. Or someone.

I wanted no longer to be alone.

Enola, alone, with no one to walk by my side.

With no one to confide in.

With no one to comfort me.

---

girlie you want your Sherlock.

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Sherlock has intercepted Enola's message to her mother and and tried to bait her into a trap. Enola figured that out, obviously, and instead takes this chance to break into his house (after watching him leave. obviously.)

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Striding off towards the British Museum, he passed me without a glance. Other than letting his forelock hang, he had not done anything to his face, and with a pang in my heart I saw that his hawk-like features did, indeed, look pale and harrowed, as his friend Watson had said.

Silent, suffering a queer inward pain, I watched him walk by.

I took a long breath and let it out again.

Then I moved on.

...

Mrs. Hudson tsked over the books and papers strewn everywhere. “Mr. Holmes is tidy in his dress and in his personal habits if not in his housekeeping,” she excused him. “He’s a real gentleman. Whatever your difficulty may be, he’ll do his best to help you with it, miss, and never mind whether you can pay him or not.”

Her words brought fresh tears to my eyes, for despite his trickery, I wanted to believe all goodness of my brother.

...

With a sigh of relief, I smiled. I had been right all along. Mum was safe in the country somewhere, and Sherlock was trying to outsmart his disgraceful younger sister. When he went home, he would find out who was smart.

---

breaking and entering successful! has stolen back the cipher book from their mom that he had stolen first and been using to read their messages!

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While I adored Mum’s handiwork, I found myself now turning my attention to my brother’s notations. He had pencilled them so lightly that I could easily have erased them, so that my cipher book would be once again the way Mum had given it to me. But rather to my surprise, I found that I wanted to keep Sherlock’s intrusions. I wanted to possess something of my brother, if only his small, precise lettering beneath my mother’s artistic flourishes.

Handwriting tells a great deal about a person in my opinion, both that which is plain to be seen and that which may be hidden. I had been thinking of my brother Sherlock as the great detective, incisive and commanding, but his handwriting was smaller than my mother’s. He did not think of himself as so very big. He might indeed be a bit shy in his way, as I was.

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Wants to keep something of Sherlock (specifically, "wanted to possess something of my brother" which has a very different vibe than "i want a memento of my brother"). Handwriting analysis of the annotations he left in the book he stole from her first. "he's just like me fr".

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Enola, as The Sister Of The Streets, encounters Sherlock, as a random homeless man looking for his "granddaughter" "Ivy", who he believes to be homeless. Luckily, he does NOT clock The Sister as Enola since she wears a veil and doesn't speak.

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The next morning Ivy Meshle, for the first time since her visit to Baker Street, reported to work without fear. No longer did that worthy secretary need to fret, for Sherlock Holmes did not seek her; he was on the hunt for a poor street vendor who had worn a waterproof.

So I felt better, yet worse, for I had heard a quiver of emotion – the genuine article, I sensed, not just an actor’s rendition – in my brother’s voice when he had described me as a skinny girl crying with wretchedness.

Surely he realised I did not actually live in poverty? He knew I had money.

But just as surely Mrs. Hudson had told him how miserably I had been weeping when she let me in.

Confound everything. Intent only on getting my cipher book back, I hadn’t realised how such news might affect him.

How, how could I safely reassure brother Sherlock of my well-being?

---

girl literally only gives a shit about Sherlock's emotions. fuck Mycroft, who's Mycroft, she doesn't know him. Sherlock, however,

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But I so badly wanted her to advise me about Sherlock. Without benefit of her greater wisdom, how might I take action? Send my brother a letter of reassurance? But – he was so confoundedly clever – what if he somehow traced it back to me?

Place a similar message for him in the newspaper personal columns?

But to do so, even in cipher, would be to make our family difficulties public. I could not risk damaging Sherlock’s pride even worse than I had already. Moreover, surely brother Mycroft – who so far, cold kidney pie that he was, had not much troubled me or my thoughts – surely Mycroft would see such a message as well, and what sort of hornet’s nest might ensue . . . I could not imagine.

I had no idea what to do.

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"hmmmm I COULD leave a coded message in the newspaper like I've BEEN doing to talk with Mom, but then MYCROFT might see it, and I don't want MYCROFT to know I'm okay. Sherlock needs to know I'm okay though because it's keeping me up at night." Enola, sweetheart.

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Enola has LOCATED the missing person, who was promptly garotted by a person Enola promptly stabbed. she then took Lady Cecily to Dr. Watson's place because yknow. this girl was just garotted she needs a doctor. Sherlock happened to be there when Enola arrived (as The Sister Of The Streets), and Sherlock and Watson are both way more interested in the garotted Lady than The Sister.

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And there was every reason for me to leave. Dr. Watson’s attention might turn towards me, or the attention of his friend might do the same; my brother might recognise me. Moreover, at any moment Lady Cecily might regain her senses and say my name, which like a fool I had told her.

Every nerve told me to flee.

Yet, instead, like an overlarge black moth drawn to a candle-flame, I ghosted into the room with the others.

With my brother.

...

The silence stretched, then broke. Watson broke it, his voice a bit strained. “I think it’s not her blood, Holmes.”

“I would quite like to know whose,” murmured the great detective. Then he spread his hands towards me in a pacific yet quelling gesture, and he started to protest, or cajole, “My dear Sister – ”

His dear sister.

Those words – how oddly they affected me.

“Do not condescend to me!” I hardly recognised my own quite distinctive, aristocratic voice bursting forth, as it never should have done, from under my veil. “I am in no need of assistance. On the other hand, Lady Cecily” – with a jerk of my weapon I indicated the still-unconscious girl lying on the sofa – “daughter of Sir Eustace Alistair, requires more care than I can give her.” Although she was unlikely ever to receive it – care for her alienisation of the psyche, her secret left-handed self. But if the police were on the way, there was no time to explain. I continued, “The villain who garroted her – ”

His voice glassy and cracked with – with incredulity, I suppose – my brother interrupted, “Enola?” His face had gone as keen and white as a fine carving in marble.

“Do not speak. Listen.” There was no time for melodrama; I had to finish what I was saying. “Please attend to what I am telling you. The garroter is [redacted bc it's a spoiler for if you're actually gonna read the book]. You are likely to find him at some surgeon or hospital, with the marks of my knife on him.”

I could only hope that Dr. Watson had taken in most of this, for my brother evidently had not. He responded in much the same way as before. “Enola?”

---

THE Sherlock Holmes. reduced to "Enola? my Enola? my Enola alive and not dead? my Enola obviously in a dangerous situation?"

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now, Sherlock knows that Enola is The Sister Of The Streets, and Enola has to abandon that identity. she also has to hide somewhere for the night because now the cops are after her because Sherlock called them and she's way too far from home. So she goes and hides in Sherlock's apartment. because she KNOWS he's spending the night roaming the streets after her instead of coming home.

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At dawn, the great detective climbs the stairs to his rooms, his step uncharacteristically leaden due to the fatigue and frustration of hours spent searching for a black butterfly that had paused for a few moments almost within his grasp before disappearing into the night, gone like a spirit – but his sister is no spirit, confound everything; she is a mere skinny broomstick of a girl, unequipped with wings, and could not possibly have actually flown away from the stony face of London; wherever could she have got to? Why could he not find her?

Head and shoulders bowed under the weight of his failure, he enters his lodging and closes the door behind him.

Odd. The sitting-room is quite warm, as if someone has been keeping the fire going all night. But that cannot be.

Yet it is. Glancing towards the hearth, he sees flames leaping merrily, and finds himself suddenly fully alert, for who – what intruder has entered here?

But even as he turns up the gas to have a look about, he strongly suspects, indeed even in advance of proof he knows, and chagrin as keen as a stiletto blade stabs his heart; he clenches his fists to keep from cursing aloud. In the fireplace he sees a substantial amount of charred black fabric, formerly a “nun’s habit,” no doubt. He can expect to find some garments missing from his supply of disguises. His oh-so-clever sister has made her escape after spending the night hiding in his own rooms, the one place he had not thought to look for her.

“The nerve of the girl!” he whispers between teeth set edge to edge. “The impudence, the effrontery, the sheer, unmitigated daring of her!” But as he glares at the evidence that, once again, his sister has outsmarted him, his hands relax along with his mouth, his thin lips twitch into a smile, and he begins heartily and almost joyously to laugh.

---

oh he's so into it. sapiosexuals. the both of them.

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anyways thats the book! as I said earlier, these things are SUPER short, I knocked this one out in a single afternoon. if you EVER find yourself wanting a quick read, please. please do it. You Will Not Regret Reading Enola Holmes.

#shernola

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