Work Text:
Generally, Holmes attempted to at least wipe down his violin each day. The oils of one’s skin built up on the wood over use, and if one became too overzealous in the matter of rosining a bow, white dust speckled the belly of the violin.
“Left for too long, it can damage the varnish,” he said a little mournfully, gazing upon the instrument resting in his lap. “I fear I have been a little neglectful of late. Although as the weather has been cool rather than warm, I doubt the rosin has melted into place.”
“Yes, indeed, but you will certainly be happier if you tend to it sooner rather than later.” Watson collected the soft cloths which Holmes generally used for this purpose. “Would you prefer to work there, or at the table?”
Holmes did not particularly wish to work anywhere at all. He had been between cases of late, and was somewhat glum as a result. Indeed, that was the very reason he had not been tending to his violin of late, too understimulated to bear many of his usual tasks.
However, this must be done, and he would feel better for having done it. So, he agreed to Watson’s proposal of the table, and moved there with his instrument.
There was some buildup of rosin on the strings as well, left there there when he played earlier in the day. That, too, should have been wiped down at the time, but he did so now. More white dust drifted onto the violin itself.
But now that he was in the process of cleaning, it no longer intimidated him. He took up a different cloth and wiped down the remaining length of the strings, ridding them of the oils of his fingers.
Next, he slid the cloth under the strings themselves, and ran a long swipe down the fingerboard. Once that was clean, he turned the instrument and scrubbed down the neck.
As this cloth was now a little grimy, Holmes accepted the fresh one that Watson offered him and began to wipe down the whole body of the violin. Aside from the accumulation of rosin between fingerboard and bridge, the rest was largely clean save for fingerprints.
Next, it would be necessary to clean his bow as well, dusting the long curved stick with another clean cloth. With Watson’s steady company, the task no longer seemed overwhelming.