Compelling Curiosity Chapter 1: Discomfiting Designations, a sherlock holmes fanfic

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Compelling Curiosity

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A/N: This will be a series of one-shots answering KCS's daily writing prompts, which she posts on her profile. No specific chronology or point of view. I will write as I am inspired :-)

Prompt #1 - Choose a middle name for Mr. Sherlock Holmes. You must give a reason in your ficlet for the choosing of that particular name.

Compelling Curiosity

Prompt 1 – Discomfiting Designations

It was useless. I could not keep my eyes open.

As I looked into the crackling embers of the fire the image only blurred, and the heat encouraged the drooping of my heavy lids. It was time for bed.

But as I rose from my chair, a soft rustling of papers caught my attention and I glanced back to see Sherlock Holmes bent over his desk with what appeared to be a magazine. The sound I had heard was his folding back of several pages so he could comfortably hold the magazine with one hand and write with another, which he seemed to be doing.

I was curious, but too tired to bother with it until he called my name with a rather irregular question.

"Watson," I looked back, "What is your middle name?" I did not answer immediately, for I was surprised and curious as to what had brought on such a desultory query. And as is his habit, he read my thoughts and answered them with surprising alacrity. "Beeton's Christmas Annual," he said, indicating the magazine, "I had thought to go back through that publication you so fancifully titled A Study in Scarlet, and take down the truly important facts so as to archive them for my own monograph on the subjects of observation and deduction. But it occurs to me," he rose to join me before the fire where I had re-seated myself, "that you always include your middle initial in your signatures. I had taken little notice of it prior, but now I'm curious…what is your middle name?"

I didn't answer, and he raised his eyebrows.

"Well I…rather…" he leaned forward eagerly and still I hesitated. But…it was not of much consequence. I suppose I could trust my friend of seven years, "I don't know."

I had distinctly startled him.

"What?"

I shrugged, "I don't know. Well…I have my preference, but I do not know for certain what it says on my birth certificate."

"How can you not know?" he was somewhat incredulous, "A man's name is his identity. I am surprised you do not place more importance on knowing, though I am still in the dark about why you do not know."

"Oh, I do place importance on it. But as none address me by my middle name nor my first, it is not something that often crosses my mind."

"What is…are your middle names then, if there are multiple possibilities as you seem to imply?"

"Well when I was a young lad, my grandmother would constantly call me Hamish, telling me how proud she was to have a grandson named for her husband. However when my mother was cross with me…" Sherlock Holmes smirked, "she would call me John Henry."

"Ah, so you are unsure whether to take your grandmother's or mother's word on the subject."

"Precisely. I see the logic in taking my mother's intimation, but I also know how influential my grandparents were on my father. So my legal middle name could be Hamish and my mother simply called me by what she preferred as middle name, or…"

"Or your grandmother could simply have been senile." I blinked and gave a slight nod. Holmes leaned back in his chair. "So which do you prefer?" he asked, unusually interested in what I knew he would typically deem a trivial subject.

"Well, I like the idea of honoring my grandfather. To my knowledge he does not have a namesake. But…as far as aesthetics go, I prefer Henry." Holmes nodded slowly behind closed eyes and said nothing. There was a hint of a smile on his face and I wondered what he found so amusing about the subject.

A thought suddenly occurred to me, "What is your middle name?" He jumped and his eyes opened with a flash of fear and I laughed heartily. "Come now, it cannot be worse than Hamish?" His silence and averted eyes suggested it might be. "Be fair Holmes. I told you," I gave him a pointed look. Finally, after a few nervous glances he cleared his throat to answer.

"I have two middle names."

"Oh?"

"Yes."

"And?" He was silent. "Holmes…" I scolded, and drawing himself up tall in the chair he answered with a pride very opposite his anxiety of moments before.

"Joseph Addison." I didn't respond immediately, because that name seemed familiar to me, but the result was that my friend turned bright red and sank back in his chair.

"Oh come now Holmes, it's a perfectly respectable name. Is it a family name?" I asked, the name still seeming oddly familiar.

He drew his knees into the chair and curled up like a hurt animal, glancing nervously at me. It was all I could do to keep my face steady, and I tried to give him an encouraging look.

"I would like to blame it on ancestry. Indeed, Joseph is the name of my great-great-grandfather, but that is not why I was given the name."

"Why then?" He looked away and drew a deep breath.

"My mother was fond of the poet of the same name," he said all in a rush. I thought for a moment and then snapped my fingers as the pieces fell into place.

"Addison! That's right, he was dean of Lichfield was he not?"

"I believe so. I do not really care," he sulked.

"Honestly Holmes, it's a perfectly respectable English name. Why does it disturb you so?"

He pinched his eyes shut, "Because my mother…my mother had to introduce me to everyone with my full name and explain why she chose each name. Including the anecdote about my first name!" he said despairingly, and uncoiled his body with a sigh of defeat.

I had to admit to feeling some sympathy for him. There are few worse things as can plague a child as an embarrassing name. I watched him for a moment, and he simply stared into the fire despondently. Indeed, his must not have been the most joyous of childhoods. Although the way he was carrying on, he still seemed a child to me.

"Hmm…" I sighed, and he looked up at me questioningly.

"What?" he fairly snapped.

I chuckled thoughtfully, "Sherlock Joseph Addison Holmes."

"John Hamish Watson," he intoned with a fiery look. I couldn't help but laugh at that. And apparently, it was infectious, for after a moment his face cleared and he joined me and I was soon in tears over the subject.

"I recommend," I said, dabbing at my eyes with my handkerchief, "that we leave our Christian names to legal documents and the post."

"Agreed," he nodded gravely, sending us both into another fit of laughter.

Author's notes: Um, I didn't proofread this...and I know it sounds...not quite right in some places, but I'm too lazy to go back and change it. It stands well enough. Just not my best. Anyway, I LOVED this prompt because I'm an onomastician (studier of names) and I had already picked 'Addison' as Holmes's middle name, simply because I liked it and it seemed to fit him. But I wanted to tie in his ancestry, so I added 'Joseph' from his great-great-grandfather, Joseph Vernet. That accounts for the French and familial ties. It conveniently fit in to this challenge with the actual English poet, Joseph Addison. And…I added the bit about Watson's middle name just because that debate has always bothered me. Hope y'all are okay with my choices. Opinions?