[He’s patient; waiting and observing those who come and go. There are many little details in the individual that could give him entrainment in deducing their daily habits, enough that it might keep his mind occupied until his companion arrives — though she does not keep him waiting terribly long.

There she is, not looking at all how he imagines her to really be beneath that rather convincing disguise. How funny that this is how they meet face-to-face for the first time, still leaving an air of mystery between them. After all, she very much looks the part, grey-haired and hunched over, hobbling with the use of a cane as though she were a decrepit yet somehow lively thing, all the same. Determined to be here.

Holmes smiles congenially, though it is impossible for him to not hike up a brow even slightly when he catches the glint in her eyes. Ah, so she’s enjoying herself.]

Oh, you’ll have to forgive me, grandmother. You know I keep a busy schedule, and the ferry always makes me feel incurably queasy.

[This isn’t true, but if they’re making stuff up, then why not. Holmes hooks his arm with hers, unimpeded by the height difference as he leads her up the stairs. Already, the establishment feels abuzz with anticipation.]

I’ll be sure to make it up to you soon enough. Tell me, how was the trip? Not terribly exciting, I assume?

[Legitimate question. Any trouble on the way?]