The First Time
by
Owlcroft and Paula Douglas
John Watson looked at his friend with patience and affection. "Don't be so tense. If you're nervous it'll just seem like it takes longer. In fact, it will take longer."
"I'm not nervous," snapped Sherlock Holmes.
"Yes, you are."
"Tense." Sherlock thought for a moment, then said, "I'll give you that. I've never done this. It's completely outside my experience. I've never even thought about it before."
John smiled gently, understanding Sherlock's lack of confidence. "Of course not. I know that. But you have to relax. Trust me, I'm a doctor. This will go much easier if you just try to settle down a bit."
Sherlock bit his lip. "How?"
"Well, you might give breathing a try. I hear that makes all the difference." After a moment, he added, quietly, "This was all your idea and you can't just back out at this point."
Sherlock took a breath and started to speak, then hesitated. "I can't just call it off now?"
"That would be horribly unfair, and even cruel. Besides, even you might just find this fun." John patted him gently on the shoulder. "Just take your time, stay calm, and let things happen as they will."
"Do I really have to wear . . ." Sherlock shuddered in distaste, "this hat?"
John sighed and nodded, then realized Sherlock couldn't see him from the position he now occupied. "Yes, you have to wear the hat. That's not negotiable." He considered for a brief moment, then added, "You could do that half-closed eyes thing you do. That would be really good."
Sherlock grimaced, then took a deep breath and did as he was asked. He had, after all, agreed to this, after much urging from John. "I'm not sure I can do this, you know." His tone was verging on panicky, but he was managing to to stay still.
"Look, I've explained. The first time is always a little difficult, but every time after this will be much better." John eased his own position next to his friend and checked surreptitiously on Sherlock's breathing. He was breathing - a little fast, but not unduly so, considering the circumstances.
"Just relax," said John soothingly. "I promised you this would be okay, and it will. Just trust me." I should've gotten some alcohol into him. Ah, well, next time.
Sherlock took a deep breath and tried, obviously, to relax. It didn't work. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this," he muttered.
"Now don't start that. You know you brought it all on yourself, and you knew it had to come to this, eventually. And it'll be fun. Really. Just . . . go with the flow." He took another look at Sherlock. "Your problem is that you think too much. You deduce and infer and your brain goes a thousand meters a second and you don't feel enough. You need to stop thinking and . . . react. That's it." He nodded decisively. "You need to react to outside stimulus." He lifted his head suddenly, glancing off to the side, then took a deep breath. "All right," he said quietly. "Here we go."
And the book seller opened the doors and the crowd flowed raucously in, to have "How to Distinguish Between 243 Types of Tobacco Ash" signed by the author.
