Disclaimer - I do not own the brilliant characters created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and only partially own the other main characters, as this fanfiction is partly based on a film called "Black Orchid" starring Ronald Howard - aka - Sherlock Holmes in the 1950's tv series :) sigh
Hi, for anyone who reads this story, this is my first attempt at a Sherlock Holmes story. I'm a big fan of mystery and detective stories, primarily Sherlock Holmes. I'd like to apologize for any inaccuracies in characterizations, and the time period depicted in this story - I don't know if they had telephones back then. If not . . . um, please forgive me hard-core Holmes fans. Thanks.
(New) - I actually wrote up until chapter 7 in 2005! Just recently my interest and love for Sherlock Holmes has experienced a resurgence (after discovering the brilliance of Jeremy Brett!!!) - so I thought now (2010) would be a good time to try and finish off the story, and polish up on the formatting on previous chapters (it was fine 5 years ago, but as the fanfiction site has changed, so to has the formatting on my old stories!)
Sherlock Holmes and the Black Orchid
"Oh Watson, do stop fretting yourself! Mrs. Hudson won't mind - she never has before" Holmes exclaimed in a dismissive tone, puffing calmly on his pipe.
"Oh, is that right? Most probably dear chap, you've ever noticed because you have a curious tendency to 'tune out' when she does!" I retorted. Holmes' experimentation with the various varieties of cigarette ash had once again resulted in the ruination of Mrs. Hudson's rug.
"Precisely my dear Watson, although I am somewhat aware - I just choose to neglect such thoughts."
Poor Holmes, he was so frightfully bored. Not a single case in weeks!
Holmes arose from his chair and strolled languidly across the room, withdrawing a small bottle from the corner of the mantelpiece. He then proceeded to recline back in his plush armchair, rolling back his sleeve with those long, reed-like fingers, preparing himself for that dreaded injection.
"Oh Holmes, no! Not again - it's not worth it!" I cried desperately. Damn to the deuce whoever invented that blasted substance. Unfortunately, Holmes rarely took any notice of my protests.
"I'm sure a case - a challenging case, may need to be solved any moment now!" I reasoned in desperation. "Requiring your full faculties!" I hastily added.
Surprisingly, Holmes paused; just as he was about to press down on the tiny piston.
"Why, old chap, does this bother you so?" Holmes inquired coldly. "You, of all people know how my mind loathes stagnation." Holmes gingerly set the needle on his lap, and leaned forward.
"Watson -" he looked deep into my eyes, almost pleadingly, "I need this."
And with that, he collected his things and resigned to his bedroom for the night - closing the door behind him.
:~:~:~:
"You know John Greenwood, sometimes I think you care more about your precious patients, than you do about me! Do you enjoy humiliating me? You could at least try to get back home in time to say goodbye to our guests!" the woman snapped into the telephone, slamming it abruptly on its receiver.
After the last guest left, the beautiful home was left vacant, except for Claudette Greenwood and her maid Hilary.
"Hilary, go fetch my evening purse, I'm going out". The maid bobbed a curtsy and began rummaging in her mistress's closet.
Claudette could not believe the nerve of her husband - this is the third dinner party in a row he had missed. How could saving poor sick people be more important than one of her dinner parties?! Claudette shook her head in exasperation, she was tired of fabricating excuses for her husband's absence. Hilary returned and placed the bag onto the bedside table.
Claudette, now gazing into the gilded mirror near her bed, swept her long golden locks into a bun.
"I do not understand how someone as beautiful as madam can be so casually treated!" Hilary uttered into her mistress's ear. "If you'll pardon my saying so" she quickly added. Claudette turned Hilary, "No, that's quite all right" she replied, smiling at her faithful maid "That will be all."
Claudette turned back to the mirror, staring intently at her reflection. Hilary was right. It was common knowledge that Claudette was greatly desired by many of the opposite sex. Therefore, she had better things to do, and better people to be with - rather than waiting around until her good-for-nothing husband came home.
Besides, it was no secret John fancied her sister Emily - who had just returned from Paris and was now working as John's laboratory assistant. John greatly desired a divorce, which was fine with Claudette. But it would be Claudette divorcing him. It would be on her terms, and hers alone. That night was the final straw, Claudette had what evidence she required.
Tonight was the night.
:~:~:~:
Thank you for reading! Reviews make me happy! (wink wink nudge nudge)