Then / Now
"My question, Mrs. Hudson, is twofold. First what, and second why?" Holmes and Watson both eyed the contents of the breakfast tray dubiously.
"It's spinach, Mr. Holmes. Chopped up very small and scrambled right into the eggs."
"That accounts for the colour, if not your reasoning."
"Spinach is good for you, of course. Eat up, my dears." She toddled off back down the stairs.
"I'm sure it's nothing to do with the overabundance of spinach plants in her window garden," said Watson dryly, taking a seat at the table.
Holmes smirked. "Nothing at all."
"At least the ham look safe."
How had he done it, and with what? That was what John wanted to know. He stared at the bowl into which he'd cracked a pair of eggs. The yolks were green rather than the traditional yellow he'd quite logically expected.
"Yes?" came the call from the other room.
"I'm making ham and eggs for breakfast."
Sherlock was beside him in the kitchen instantly. "Perfect!"
"So they're meant to be that colour?"
"Will it kill me?"
"Don't be stupid."
"Right." He cracked two more eggs. "You're eating with me, then."
"You most emphatically are."