I'll be in my blanket fort....

Agatha Christie’s Poirot 8x01 Evil Under the Sun

Primarily based on these images

But also because I want Holmes and Morticia to speak French, and for him to fence with Gomez, and teach the kids about poisons and criminals

Holmes folded down the top of the newspaper he was reading so he could see me. “A letter from whom?”

“Not sure.” I turned it over to study it as best I could. The envelope was thick and expensive, postmarked from America. The ink was rich and black, and it smelled unexpectedly floral, with an odd sulphuric note underneath. “Looks to be a woman’s writing, I’d say.”

“If you would.” He held out a pale hand. I passed him the envelope and he neatly sliced it open with his pocket knife. A single page slipped out onto his breakfast plate. He unfolded it with a flick of his wrist, then smiled. “Ah! Morticia.”

“Morticia?”

“Addams. She is my second cousin.”

I was immediately intrigued, for Holmes so rarely talked about his relatives. It had taken several years after our meeting for him to bring up the subject of his elder brother, who lived and worked barely an hour’s walk away. I wasn’t surprised that a second cousin in America had gone unnoted until now.

“Unusual names run in the family, I see.”

Holmes smirked. “Her grandmother was my great-aunt Séraphine, who met and married a quite singular gentleman named Algernon Frump while travelling. They settled over in the States many years ago, and dear Morticia now resides there with her husband.”

“Why does she write you?”

“She is arranging a sort of family reunion on All Hallow’s Eve. Apparently it has been far too long since we have all seen each other.”

“How long is that?”

“Several years at least. It was certainly before you and I met.” 

“And will you oblige her?”

“I suppose I will.” He folded the letter and placed it neatly back in its envelope, tucking it into his inside pocket. “You’ve been angling for a holiday, my boy. Would this satisfy you?”

“Wouldn’t it be terribly rude?” I asked, startled. “She has invited you, not me.”

He tutted. “Nonsense, Watson! Morticia knows we live together, of course.”

“How?”

“She will have read your book.”

“Oh! Well that is kind of her. But a family reunion, Holmes, I am not—”

this one has been passed around recently from the mayo clinic and that actually makes me so happy because how many of transfeminine people are aware of what their options even look like?

I may joke about Hastings not having two braincells to rub together.

HOWEVER.

There is this scene near the end of 2.4 The Cornish Mystery where Hastings uses his surroundings to bluff out the murderer by saying he hired the two guys loitering across the street to watch him, & thus helps Poirot force a written confession out of the guy.

Hastings knows what small English towns are like and he absolutely uses that to his & Poirot's advantage.

It's scenes like this where Hastings reminds us: he's a man of ACTION, he thinks quick on his feet as long as there are no beautiful women within a 0.5km radius to distract him, at least and he is certainly not stupid when it comes to strategy.

It's times like this when I absolutely understand how Hastings became an army captain. He is fantastic at using his surroundings--whatever's right in front of him right now--to make snap judgments and strategic, spur-of-the-moment decisions, which is something you NEED in an army captain.

And this little bluff of his impresses Poirot a lot!! So much so that he genuinely praises him to his face & Hastings will probably be riding that high for the rest of his life

The hilarious part is, Hastings is also very hung up on fairness, so he feels VERY much compelled to tell the lawyer that he & Poirot promised the murderer a head start of 24 hours if he signed the confession...

It's scenes like THIS that remind us he's ALSO a big softie who wants everyone to play fair/play by the rules. Which. Unfortunately doesn't always happen. He wants to see the best in everyone, though, and that endears me to him SO much.

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