Disclaimer: I do not own Meitantei Holmes/Sherlock Hound, the characters or the original Sherlock Holmes stories. They are the property of their respective owners.

Notes: Yet another idea that wouldn't stop nudging me until I wrote it out. It's been in my mind for a couple of weeks at least, only finally managed to write it a few days ago. As with my previous ones, I will refer to the detective as Sherlock Hound.

This contains minor spoilers for Aoi Rubii/The Blue Carbuncle. Relationships are platonic in this one. Characters might be a bit OOC.

I hope you enjoy this!

(Linebreaks hate me so I will use SHJW.)

SHJW

It was a quiet afternoon in London, which meant there were no cases for the infamous private consulting detective Sherlock Hound and his associate, Dr. John H. Watson. It was for that reason that Watson had gone to the nearby clinic to offer his services as the number of patients grew with the latest epidemic of the common cold.

Hound looked out the window and saw Mrs. Marie Hudson in her garden, watering the flowers with a tender smile on her face. It brought a smile to his own before he turned away and looked around the room. It was often in a state of disarray, but it was a sort of organised chaos that the detective preferred. Of course, there were days he would decide it would be appropriate to file away the papers he often left lying around. "Might as well do that today," he murmured. He rolled up his shirtsleeves and moved about the room.

SHJW

As Hound stacked up some papers on the desk, his elbow knocked a different pile. He shook his head and moved to pick them up. But, there was something...different about the papers. The handwriting was not his own, nor was it of any detail to previous cases in the manner his papers were. No, they appeared to be like a narrative that was scribed by his partner.

It would be a lie to say he was not one to give in to curiosity, as it was often that which allowed him to find what he had to when on a case. Though the situation was different, he still felt that same curiosity as he read the text. He smiled, it appeared to be an account of the case of the Blue Carbuncle. "Watson is quite proficient with words," he muttered. His previous work fled from his thoughts as he read the recollection. He knew it would've been locked away if it was private.

SHJW

He let out a chuckle here and there as he read the narrative, smiling fondly at the picture Watson had painted with his words alone. His smile started to fade, however, as he came across a particular paragraph.

The instant I saw Hound coming up the street from the same direction he'd left, I knew at once that something was amiss. My fears were confirmed the moment the carriage door opened and poor Polly had been caught by that nefarious Moriarty. Hound and I both rushed to the scene, hoping to save her before it was too late, but they fled before we reached them. As Hound picked up Polly's teddy bear, there was one thought that rushed through my mind. That I was foolish to have sent Polly out on her own when I really should've known better. I wanted to express as much to Hound, but we were on the chase before I could begin to voice my thoughts.

He sighed and closed his eyes, setting the papers down. He took his pipe out of his mouth and opened his eyes once more. It wasn't that he hadn't noticed Watson's remorse, but he should've given him some reassurance for it. "I'll have to do so upon his return."

SHJW

It was just as the sun set when Watson returned to 221B Baker Street, greeting Mrs. Hudson warmly and fondly despite the exhaustion he felt. It had been a long day, he could do with a meal and some rest. He hoped Hound wasn't doing any chemical experiments in the meantime, he'd had enough of malodorous surroundings for one day.

He ascended the steps and placed his hat on the peg beside the one on which his friend's deerstalker was currently perched, then made his way into the sitting room. "Good evening, Hound, how was your day?"

"Quite fine, my dear Watson, thank you. Yours, my good fellow?" He was by the bookshelf, placing a book where it belonged.

"Oh, productive. If there aren't any cases tomorrow, they want me back." He removed his jacket, hanging it up and stretched before heading to the armchair. "It's mostly children with the cold, but thankfully, no serious cases."

"That is a relief." He made his way to the sofa and sat down, regarding his friend. "Watson, might I ask you something?"

"I'm open to all questions, my friend."

"Have you been considering writing out our past cases?"

"I did. I've been meaning to talk with you about it, but wanted to see if it was possible first. Why do you ask?"

"Earlier today, I came across your account of the case of the Blue Carbuncle."

"Oh, I see. That's right, I'd left it in here. What did you think?"

"It was able to paint a vivid picture in my mind as to the events that had occured, I applaud you for that."

"Thank you, my dear Hound, I appreciate it."

"There was something concerning me though, something I should've opened to discussion when it happened."

"Oh?"

"Your thoughts on having been deceived."

"Oh."

He observed as Watson's ears lowered and the contentment was replaced by a bit of shame. "I had noticed you appeared more than troubled when we had to pursue Moriarty and his men in order to save Polly, but I was unable to deduce at the time as to the reason for it. The fact that you wrote it out so firmly, as if an admonishment, shows that though everything worked out, the feelings remained."

"Well, it was foolish of me. I honestly should've...dash it all, Hound, I should've known you would never have had me send Polly out on her own! But, I wasn't thinking straight at the time. If I hadn't seen you come up the street when you did, I would never have realised, and then what would've happened?"

"Watson...I am going to be frank with you. Yes, it was foolish. But, it was an error anybody could make."

"Not you though. You'd never fall for something like that."

He chuckled mirthlessly. "Are you forgetting already, old boy? I have. Don't you recall the message that had us leaving Mrs. Hudson alone for her to be abducted?"

"Ah."

"The right phrasing can fool even the most cynical individual."

"I suppose so."

His gaze softened and he allowed himself to smile. "We were able to rescue her in the end, Watson."

"I know that, I know we did! But...it shouldn't have come to that in the first place."

"Maybe not." He rose to his feet and crossed over to the chair, placing his paw on his friend's shoulder. "It did and we can't change it. But, maybe there is something positive in all of this. A lesson learned, perhaps?"

"Like not to fall for notes that claim you're in trouble?"

"Precisely. I will use a code that is known only to us so you will know in the future that any correspondence of a similar manner would be from me."

"A code, my good fellow?"

"Yes, indeed. Moriarty may be able to mimic my penmanship, and sending a wire could also serve as the perfect deception, but he would never be able to work out our code. If I am in danger, I will not say it is so, I will give the vaguest of hints in a manner that I know only you can work out. If you are in harm's way and I am unable to reach your side, the code will be enacted again."

"What exactly would it be? Some kind of vague statement?"

"Quite. It wouldn't follow the same method as Martha's father had used for his secret SOS, but would be similar with phrasing."

"Capital idea, my dear Hound! At least this means I won't bungle things and put more children in harm's way..."

He squeezed his shoulder at that remark. "I have known many gentlemen who are perfectly capable at bungling even the simplest task. You, my dear Watson, are not among them. If you were, I would not have agreed to having you work by my side as my associate, for I am not one to tolerate failure; whether my own or that of another."

"Thanks, Hound."

SHJW

A couple of weeks later, the story had been completed and Watson had asked Hound to read it once more. He noted something written into it.

Though I had made an error in letting Polly go on her own, as documented earlier, there is one thing I know for sure. Yes, I should've known better. Yes, I made a mistake. But, Sherlock Hound is not one to tolerate anybody who bungles anything in such atrocious fashion, so there is the relief that, indeed, I did not do so.

He smiled and looked up at his friend. "And that is why I shall keep you on as my partner, my dear Watson."

"I'm pleased to hear that, my good Hound."

SHJW

After notes: I am not quite at the level of applying Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's writing style yet, hence why my written Watson sounds like a cheap imitation. In any case, I don't have much more to say about this one.

Thanks for reading! As always, you don't have to review, but if you want to say something, please don't flame. Constructive criticism is welcomed.