In honor of Halloween, and because MorbidbyDefault/MorbidMegz asked for a Corpse Bride inspired Sherlolly story - I present this. Originally posted on tumblr, now available for your reviewing pleasure.
Disclaimer: I do not have any property rights to the characters of BBC's Sherlock or Tim Burton's Corpse Bride. No copyright infringement intended.
Sherlock Holmes sat uncomfortably in the immaculate foyer of his benefactors. It was less dusty than his own, probably because his family had been forced to dismiss their servants over a year ago. Although he had the prestige of being from an aristocratic family, the nouveau riche family whose entry way he now waited in had the most wealth in this small English town. In order to further his scientific studies, they had agreed to sponsor his trip to London and fund his tuition at medical school. A placement in a well respected school of anatomy was rare and his depended on their generosity. Unfortunately, their generosity had strings attached and he was here today to learn what those strings were. He was not pleased with the situation at all.
"Mr. Holmes, a pleasure to have you," Mrs. Hooper called to him as she descended the stairwell.
He politely took her hand and bowed. Sherlock knew that the situation called for his best manners, however much it displeased him.
"The pleasure is mine. I understand you wish to speak with me concerning my trip to London."
"Yes. Come with me to the library won't you. We can discuss it further there."
Upon entering the library Sherlock realized this was not to be a private discussion. Mr. Hooper and their daughter, Margaret, were already situated in the room having tea. When the four were all comfortably arranged, or as comfortable as Sherlock could be, Mrs. Hooper began.
"We have discussed your upcoming trip to London to pursue an education in medicine and feel that a financial investment such as this requires an equal investment on your part in our family and its future. To that end, we propose a permanent merger between our families. Before you leave for London, you will be wed to our daughter. Those are our terms."
For several moments, Sherlock sat in silence. He had known they would request him to return their generosity in some way. But to saddle him with a wife! And one as timid and unremarkable as Margaret Hooper. This was more than he had anticipated. There were obligations a man of his station would be required to meet especially living in London with all its tedious social events. He saw what had happened to Mycroft when he had left for the city and taken a wife. Sherlock hardly spoke with his brother any longer because familial obligations had pulled his brother's intellect away from science into the tedium of politics.
"My apologies, Mr. and Mrs. Hooper. But at this time, I find I cannot agree to such an arrangement. Good day."
With that, Sherlock strode from the room and from the house. He needed to think. There must be another way without having to marry Miss Hooper.
Hours of violin playing later, Sherlock still had no better idea how he could gain tuition to medical college without the support of the Hoopers. It was infuriating. For a moment he tried to envision what life would be like married to Margaret. She seemed a quiet sort. Clearly well bred, even if she was not aristocratic born. And while his mind thought of Miss Hooper and their potential life together in London, the violin sounded less tortured, less painful. It might be possible that he could manipulate such as mild mannered girl into allowing him his whims and indulging his rather macabre studies. True he was going to medical college, but his interests lay not in curing disease, but in better understanding the human body and documenting it in death. A quiet girl with no real ambitions would perhaps be the best solution, and would prevent his own family from hounding him to find a respectable match in the future. So Sherlock decided, he would reluctantly wed Margaret Hooper.
-x-x-x-
The day of the rehearsal found the Hoopers in the dark and somewhat dreary Holmes manor. It was a much older building than Margaret's home, and the fact that it had not been well maintained in the past few years was beginning to show. She wasn't sure if that was an indication of their lack of funds or Mr. Holmes' lack of interest in the matter. He was certainly an odd character and she had great reservations about being his wife. But her parents had arranged the marriage in order to elevate their own social status in the community. She knew it was a good match. She would become the next mistress of the Holmes manor and he would go off to London to study medicine. Secretly she was looking forward to the possibility of expanding her own knowledge. Margaret was just as curious about the world of science as her soon-to-be husband. It was improper for a lady to study anatomy, but it would be impossible for anyone to prevent her access to his library while he was away.
While her parents discussed matters with the pastor and arranged for the wedding tomorrow, Margaret followed the sounds of violin music to a study down the hall. Pushing open the door she saw a disheveled assortment of chemistry equipment and scientific papers. Standing near the window, gracefully drawing bow across strings, stood Sherlock Holmes clearly lost in the music. For several minutes she watched silently. He was more attractive now, in his unguarded playing. Margaret thought it was lucky that her parents had matched her with someone so intriguing. She would not ever have to feign attraction to him. He turned slightly and caught sight of her by the door instantly ceasing in his playing.
"You play beautifully," she spoke softly.
"Thank you."
"Is all of this your work?" she asked, gesturing to the room.
"Yes. I would apologize for the mess but as it is my study, I see no reason to please anyone else in how I keep it. As my wife, you will be given freedom to do whatever you like with the house, but this room is strictly off limits."
"Oh, no, that wasn't…I mean…I don't mind. I find this all fascinating, but Mother says such studies are not proper for young women."
He watched her face as she surveyed the equipment and even dared to pick up an article close to her and began reading. Yes, there was a burning desire to know and understand in her wide brown eyes. Perhaps their union would not be so horrible after all. It was even possible he could mold her into the ideal assistant. He needed an assistant. It did not matter to him if that assistant was male or female as long as they did the work properly. Sherlock stepped forward and for the first time, Margaret looked straight into his eyes. Their gaze held for just a moment but it was long enough. Both of them instantly recognized that this could be a wonderful partnership.
Suddenly, Mrs. Hooper arrived at the door to collect her wayward daughter. It was improper of her to be alone with him, even though they would be married tomorrow evening. He had no opportunity to ask about her specific scientific interests but did slip her a book. It was a favorite of his, documenting the progression of tuberculosis and included some illustrations of lung tissue, both healthy and at various stages of the disease. If it did not put her off from his work, he knew she would be able to join in his research. All thoughts of Margaret and their wedding left Sherlock's mind only an hour later however, when the constable came knocking at his door requesting his assistance. The body of a woman had been found at the outskirts of town and looked to be related to an unsolved murder Sherlock had consulted on a year ago.
-x-x-x-
Sherlock walked away from the scene but in the opposite direction of his home. The body he had just observed had nothing to do with the unsolved murder, it was merely a case of exposure. It was disappointing but the incident had highlighted his inability to close the case a year ago. He travelled further into the woods to revisit the original scene. Although he knew it would have lost any evidence by this time, he wanted to reacquaint himself with everything associated with the initial case. Being in the same location would help him visualize it all. He was walking briskly, paying no heed to his steps while lost in thought and his boot caught on a tree root sticking up above ground. Sherlock fell hard and landed face first in the lap of a beautiful woman.
He scrambled back, the temporary shock of finding himself in such a situation was enough to lose his typically composed attitude. It did not take long to recover though. He sat back and watched as the woman smiled a wicked smile at him. Her complexion was pale, too pale. And her eyes were darker than any he had ever seen. Her dark hair was pinned up to her head but not neatly. Although her clothes were of the finest material, they were several seasons out of fashion and were torn in some places. Sherlock stood and surveyed the woman in her entirety. She must have been sitting here for some time.
"I've been waiting for you."
Her voice was silken and he was mesmerized. This woman obviously had dark secrets and Sherlock would stop at nothing to know what they were.
"How could you have known I would be here? I only decided to come to these woods this afternoon."
"Because you are a clever man and I knew it would be you who would finally come to my aid."
"If you are looking for assistance, I am afraid I am the last person you would want. I have little time for the niceties of society. So I will bid you farewell."
"Not so quickly, Mr. Holmes. I believe you will find it in your interests to assist me. You will continue to investigate the murder that occurred in this place a year ago," her voice took on a sharp edge. This was a command, not a request.
"What do you know of the murder?"
"I know that I am the Woman."
"The Woman?"
"Yes, Mr. Holmes, the woman whose murder you are going to solve. I will do anything to be released from this curse and to that end, I'm willing to break a few rules tonight."
With that she stood and Sherlock recognized her for what she was. If he had not seen it with his own eyes he would not have believed it. Of course he had read about corpses reanimating, but had scoffed at the backward superstition regarding death that passed for scientific reasoning in some circles. Before him stood the very real corpse of Irene Adler, the woman whose murder he had been unable to solve a year ago. But he knew her body have been buried shortly after the investigation turned cold. How was this possible? And what could she want from him?
"Is there anything you might be able to tell me that will hasten us along. I'm afraid I have an engagement to attend to tomorrow."
The woman laughed at this. "Oh, Mr. Holmes, that little bride of yours will have to wait. You're going to spend some time with me in a wholly different place. The information I have for you cannot be expressed in mere words. It must be seen in order for you to believe it."
She stepped forward and as soon as she touched his arm they were both swept down into a spiraling darkness. There were some friends she wanted him to meet.
-x-x-x-