I peered into the little bowl in front of me with hesitation. Holmes stood in front of me, impatiently tapping his shoe.

"Hurry up, Watson! Davidson will be here soon and we need to be ready to arrest him! Eat your breakfast fast, man!"

I tipped the bowl and showed him the slush inside. "Holmes, does this look the least like food? I plan to be alive to greet our criminal, you know."

Holmes glared at me and tapped the bowl with his pipe. "It is perfectly good, Watson. Mashed potatoes with cream."

"Mashed potatoes with cream? For breakfast?!"

Holmes raised an eyebrow. "Yes, why not? It should be quite healthy."

"Cream, Holmes?! Have you gone utterly insane?"

"Of course it is not the only ingredient in there" he continued as if I had not spoken. "I added some broccoli for the nutritional effect and some peas."

I picked out a small squished slice of something from the terrible concoction and gingerly held it out to him.

"What on earth is this?"

"Oanges."

"Oranges?!"

Holmes blinked at the horrified tone in my voice. "Of course, Watson. We must keep up the health requirements, should we not?"

I closed my eyes, dreading the possibilities. "What else is in there?"

"Well, some apples, along with the oranges and a dash of milk and some of last night's left over pudding-"

"Holmes, I threw that out! It smelled awful!"

"Waste not; want not, my dear Watson."

I buried my face in my hands in utter despair. "This is the last time I let you make breakfast, Holmes." For the thousandth time, I wished Mrs. Hudson had not gone to visit her sister.

I saw Holmes stiffen as we heard the tread of quick footsteps outside the door.

"Quick, Watson!" He hissed "Get your-"

There was a crash and Davidson stood framed on the doorway, a terrible leer on his face, taking in the scene in front him.

"Well, well gentlemen, how nice to see you are enjoying your very last breakfast."

With the agility of a cat, Holmes threw himself on Davidson. I sprang up and watched with horror as the two men struggled on the floor.

Davidson managed to free himself and was drawing his arm back when my mind finally decided to act.

I seized the first thing I found on the table and threw it on his face. It smashed onto his face, and with a thrill of horror, I realized it was Holmes's 'breakfast'.

Holmes wriggled out of Davidson's grip and both of us looked on in horror as Davidson, swaying slightly, finally saw fit to collapse on the ground.

I turned him over gingerly and shuddered with loathing as I saw majority of Holmes's cooking had gone straight into his mouth.

I made a quick sign of the cross and murmured. "Rest in peace."

"Oh"

I turned to see Holmes peering into the cooking pot in which he had been cooking.

"I appear to have dropped in some tobacco accidently." He looked at me with amusement. "Good thing you didn't eat it, eh, Watson?"

I sent a prayer of thanks for deliverance to the Almighty.