This choice: Visitors from the North Pole • Go Back...Chapter #5Sherlock Holmes Saves Christmas (In July) by: Sly F   Holmes was between cases and in one of his periods of lethargy and melancholy, alternating between aggressively practicing his violin and reclining across the sofa for hours on end, allowing 221b Baker Street to fall into a disarray I found quite intolerable.
I was attempting to rouse him to place things back in order when two feminine voices came from the other side of the door.
"Now, when we get in there, just let me do all the talking, Rayray."
"But I want to talk to them, too, Mimi! You know how I feel about intelligent men."
"Yes. Because they compensate for your deficiencies."
"I don't even know what that means."
"Exactly. You just proved my point, Rayray. I'll do the talking."
Then came the knock on the door that would start us on one of the most bizarre cases I have ever been a witness to.
"Enter," said Holmes.
The door opened and in walked two of the most becoming young ladies I have ever clapped eyes on, small and dainty as you'd like. They both wore bright red dresses beneath green velvet jackets and pointy green hats with white fur trim and purplish-red holly berries.
One had long, wavy golden hair the color of the noonday sun. Her round eyes were the color of fine chocolate, and prominent freckles like silvery stars sparkled across her rosy cheeks and the bridge of her small but sharply pointed nose.
The other had a more exotic beauty, with prominent cheekbones and a slightly more prominent nose than her companion's, and silky hair and almond shaped eyes both as soft and as dark as a calm winter night.
"Sherlock Holmes, I presume?" said the dark-haired beauty, addressing my friend.
"And you must be Dr. Watson," said her companion, fluttering her eyes at me while twirling her golden hair coquettishly 'round her finger. "I do love a doctor. I bet your bedside manner is impeccable."
The dark-haired girl cleared her throat.
"Mr. Holmes, my name is Mimi."
"And I'm Rayray," said the golden-haired girl, without taking her eyes away from mine.
"Those are quite unusual outfits," said Holmes. "You look as though you've come from the North Pole on behalf of Father Christmas."
"That's right!" exclaimed Rayray, setting her sights on my friend. "He got it right away. I told you this is our man."
Holmes raised his eyebrows, as taken off guard by the response to his quip as I was.
"Surely, you don't mean to suggest?" I said.
"We're elves," said Mimi. "Father Christmas's little helpers."
"Stuff and nonsense!" said I. "Either these ladies are attempting to pull our legs, or they are badly suffering from brain fever!"
"Brain fever's not a real thing," said Rayray. "Is it, Mimi?"
"Calm yourself, Watson," said Holmes, an amused smile on his face. "If our visitors have travelled all that way just to consult with me, we should at least hear what they've come to say."
"Thank you, Mr. Holmes," said Mimi. "If you won't help us, I'm afraid in half a year's time, there will be no Christmas."
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