Blessed Insurance

Honesty Is The Best Policy

By VHunter07

I have always prided myself on being a man of immense patience. When one rooms with Sherlock Holmes for any extended period of time, one cannot help but acquire an ample supply of the virtue. But there are occasions, albeit rare, that even I am met with person or persons that test my limits. Yet there is only one man, save Holmes himself, that has ever driven me to the actual breaking point of my temper. The fellow's very nature was one of complete irritation and left everyone he came in contact with either in prison or headed for Harley Street. It amazes me to no end that the fellow remains living to this day.

It was on a crisp Spring morning, in the year of our Lord 1889, I believe, when we first gained the acquaintance of this 'gentleman'. I had risen early to draw up some notes from our latest case, (a grotesque affair including a nobleman, a teacup, and a sunflower no less) and found Holmes already up and having his morning pipe. He bid me good-morning upon my entry and at once rang for breakfast. Yet when our good landlady stepped in, it was not with a breakfast tray upon her hand but a salver bearing a stark white calling card. Holmes received it with marked look of interest.

"Who the deuce would be calling at this hour?" I asked while glancing at the mantle clock to find just past seven.

"Not a prospective client, I fancy. This tidy little card gives the idea of one seeking to proffer services rather than receive such." I moved to peer over his shoulder.

"Mr Septimus Z. Smooth. Do you know him, Holmes?"

"No. You might look him up but I doubt it would be worthwhile." He stood in thought a moment tapping the card against his pursed lips before turning abruptly to me.

"Shall we see him, Watson? I feel I could do with a little intrigue." He then dashed off to his room to dress, not waiting for my answer. I sighed and started back to my own room, the idea of a nice, quiet morning now a thing of the past.

"Would you be so kind as to wait ten minutes and show him up, Mrs Hudson? Thank you."

Within the allotted time we were back in the sitting room awaiting this mysterious visitor of ours. And not a moment too soon for no sooner had we taken our seats then the door was practically flung open to admit our guest. He crossed the room in two quick strides and, quite literally, seized Holmes by the hand.

"No, don't rise sir, please don't! Never could stand formality. Smooth, Septimus Z. Smooth at your service, Mr Sherlock Holmes and it is quite a pleasure to meet you at last." The fellow gushed in a distinctly American accent. Slightly Southern, if I might venture a guess. Holmes gave me a quick look of amusement as Mr Smooth whirled to face me. He was an average sized fellow. Well built, of medium height, slightly shorter than myself, with the slickest black hair to which I have ever been witness. Not a single strand out of place, and that proved to be no mean feat given his seemingly great love of movement. His entire essence spoke of a business man. From his constrictive, starched white collar to his spotless spats, the man practically screamed 'Salesman'. Little did I know how true my first impression would prove.

"And you, good sir, must be the inestimable Dr John H. Watson," he said, whilst pumping my hand rather viciously.

"Spiffing to make your acquaintance sir, you've no idea."

"Ah, yes, thank you. The delight is mutual I'm sure," I replied, endeavoring to regain the feeling in my now numb fingers.

"Yes I'm sure," He said, taking an unsolicited seat upon the settee. And frantically waving me to my chair.

"Please do sit Doctor, I've much to discuss with you and your charming friend here."

Holmes quirked an eyebrow in response at his assigned description and offered me a brisk nod of approval before speaking. "Just what is it that you wish to discuss, Mr Smooth? Not a potential client, I presume?" He said with a almost imperceptible trace of disappointment in his voice.

Our guest laughed heartily in a rather pleasant and merry way. "Bless you Mr Holmes, no I haven't come to trouble you with a case, but to assist you in their prevention altogether."

Holmes' polite smile at once shifted to a look of slight mistrust. "Mr Smooth, I am a private consulting detective, the preventions of future cases could hardly be an undertaking worth my interest."

"Surely not, sir!" Smooth said quickly, slapping a hand upon his thigh. "But the cases of which I speak are of a most undesirable nature, yes sir, they're not the solving kind a'tall, no sir. Most folk prefer to avoid them altogether, though it can't always be done in the natural course of life, you know."

My immediate impression was that this strange fellow was attempting to threaten my friend in some roundabout way, though he was making a deuced mess of it. "Just what exactly are you alluding to, Mr Smooth?" I demanded. "If you're trying to-"

Holmes cut me off with a rapid wave if his hand. "Please Watson, let us allow Mr Smooth to properly explain himself before passing judgment on his intentions." He said, nodding for our guest to continue.

The man flashed us both a brief but brilliant smile and rose from his seat to pace before the sofa. "You see, Mr Holmes, Dr Watson, this life of ours is a complicated one. A span of time riddled with twists and turns and all sorts of happenstances. One never can tell when things will run amuck and afoul. Life has a way of sneaking up on a fellow and catching him all unawares. And it's never pleasant to be caught in such a way, no sirs, it most certainly is not."

I made a move as if to interrupt but Holmes once again bade me remain silent.

"And as for me personally," Smooth continued, glancing every so often at his reflection in our mantle mirror. " I truly hate to see a fellow man stuck in a rut, truly in such dire circumstances, I do, sirs. That's why I've committed my life to helping folks. Folks such as you, Mr Holmes…and you, Dr Watson. Of course, one man can do next to nothing on his own which is why I've rather thrown in my lot with greater than myself. An organisation Founded in 1688 by a great man by the name of Edward Lloyd, and dedicated to the express purpose of helping poor unfortunate souls that find themselves in basest of situations. And I can tell you sirs, that I am proud, most proud to be a part of this organisation today. And I've come to you this hour, gentlemen, to extend this help to you, Mr Holmes…and to you, Dr Watson. Two of Londons' finest. After all that you do and give for this fair city, the least, the very least we can do is offer our ample assistance in return."

He completed this queer, if somewhat moving, speech by standing directly between us, hands outstretched as if physically proffering some treasured gift. And though I must confess that I was more confused than ever regarding his business with us, my friend seemed to be quite intrigued. He sat perfectly upright, his almost smiling lips pressed firmly against pale and steepled fingers in a seeming attempt to repress some involuntary emotion. His bright eyes alone had followed Smooths' movements and were now fixedly directed at the mans' mirror-like spats. "Mr Smooth, " He finally said, without shifting his gaze. "May I inquire as to with what precisely it is that you wish to provide us?"

The odd fellow threw his hands into the air as if he'd been asked the simplest of questions. "Mr Holmes, you are a man of vision, a man of extreme insight and mental prowess, this I know, sir. But even you cannot see the imminent future!"

Holmes favored him with a slightly amused glance. "Neither should I claim to do so."

"Precisely!" Smooth practically shouted as he re-claimed his seat. "Yet the future comes and with it who knows what troubles and catastrophes. One can't see them from the present but one can certainly plan for them!"

By this time I'd fairly lost my patience with this Smooth character and all his nonsensical prattle. "See here, Mr Smooth, if you wish something from us surely you can simply say it without all this tomfoolery!"

But he waved me off much as Holmes most likely would have had the fingers of both his hands not still been firmly planted against a struggling smile. "You must prepare for the worst, Dr Watson, and hope for the best! Surely you agree! And what with Mr Holmes' business being of so important a nature, me and the gentlemen I represent would like nothing better than to give him…and you as well, Doctor, all the help we can. Certainly you cannot disagree?"

Holmes prevented my answer with a question of his own. "Unless I am much mistaken, you mentioned Edward Lloyd as the founder of your business?"

"Naturally you are correct, Mr Holmes! Are you ever wrong?"

I could not inhibit a grimace at the mans' obsequious tone, but Holmes seemed unaffected. "More often than one might suppose having the good Doctors' somewhat 'florid' narratives as his only source of reference." He confessed with a conspiratorial glance in my direction. "But more to the point, the name Lloyd strikes a chord of familiarity, does it not, Watson? Would you happen, Mr Septimus Z. Smooth, to be an agent of that well known establishment bearing the name 'Lloyds' of London' ?"

"The insurance company?" I questioned.

To his credit, Smooth gave no negative response to his premature discovery but carried right on as if it had been his precise intention. "The very same, sirs! By Harry, you're a quick one, Mr Holmes!" He said with a wink. "Yes, Doctor, you've guessed it, I have come this day to extend to your friend…and your good self, a true helping hand. We see what you do for the mother country, sir, for the world! And only want to help."

I fear I was still bemused by his abrupt admission. "You mean that you intend to sell Holmes an insurance policy? Whatever for?" If I'd scuffed his spats I don't think the fellow would've reacted any differently. He leapt from his chair and waved his arms about before me.

"What for!? 'What for' you ask, Dr Watson!? Supposing your friend here has a high and mighty client that trots off unpleasured by the conclusion of his case? Bang! He files a claim of false advertising! Or say some old busybody demands a case be seen to that isn't worth his time! Bang! A claim of malpractice! What if…in sheer supposition of course…a client has a case that can't be solved? Fraud! An elderly patron trips over the rug and cracks his skull on the mantle! Bodily injury! You never can tell with these things, Doctor! They sneak up and grab a man when he's all unawares! And it wouldn't do sir, it really wouldn't do for the worlds' first and only private consulting detective to be clapped into irons simply because he can't make his case in court!"

"But-" I attempted to interject, but he wouldn't have it.

"No buts' need apply, sir! It would be shameful for them to dare do so! With this Business Owners' coverage I intend to provide your friend with, all cases covered, all expenses met up to twenty thousand pounds per anum! "

Before either Holmes or myself could even attempt a response to this ceaseless tirade, the man had whipped an impossibly thick legal document out of his coat and snatched the nib from my writing desk. These two items he held under Holmes' nose as if dangling meat to a starving dog. I will readily confess to some small surprise that my friend had not tossed the blighter out on his ear the moment his true intentions were made known. Yet even still he remained calm. Seeming almost amused by the entire, preposterous ordeal.

With an quick, silent laugh Holmes stood hastily. He nearly bowled our guest over backward before moving to the open window to glance down into the busy street below. It was some minutes before he turned once more to face us.

"Ah, Mr Smooth, " He began, rubbing his hands together enthusiastically. "You are by far the most persuasive salesman with which I have yet had the pleasure of conversing. And without doubt your words hold merit and your product, worth. Still, I do not fancy that we will be making use of your services presently. Nevertheless, I thank you for your time and assure you that it was well spent. Now, if you will allow me to wish you a very pleasant morning?" He then took his long-stemmed pipe from the rack, took his chair, drew his knees up to his chin and commenced smoking as if our early guest would simply evaporate upon dismissal.

For a moment I thought Smooth would protest this rapid release, so shocked was the look over his face. But no sooner had I prepared myself to intercept him that he broke into a broad smile and stuffed the pen and unsigned policy back into his inside coat pocket. I gave a sigh of relief for it was far too early an hour for hostility.

"I'm no fool, Mr Holmes. I can see when a mans' made up his mind and I know better than to try and change one such as yours…for now anyway." Said he good-naturedly while taking his hat and stick from the side table as I moved to show him out. "But sirs, time brings change and change takes time and both are friends of mine. Until next we meet, lads!"

He finished with a bold wink and went off whistling merrily. No sooner had I closed the sitting room door that I was treated to a severe bout of laughter from across the room. "What a fellow, eh, Watson?" Holmes exclaimed while dashing back to the window.

I joined him in watching Mr Septimus Z. Smooth saunter down Baker Street swinging that cane of his rather wildly. "Yes, what an infernal nuisance!" I said before ringing the bell for our, now very late, breakfast.

"You found him bothersome, old fellow?"

" 'Bothersome' is not quite adequate a description. I can not imagine why the deuce you let him go on for so long."

Holmes gave a slight shrug. "You know how very bored I've been these past few days. Septimus Smooth was simply an ideal diversion…if only a temporary one."

"I can think of a great many more interesting things with which to divert oneself." I replied with no small amount of sincerity.

"Perhaps." My friend conceded. "But he was rather amusing, even you must admit."

I was given no opportunity for rebuttal as our good landlady entered just then with a heavy laden tray. It was not until after breakfast that the subject was again broached when I retreated to my desk, where a most alarming incident awaited my discovery. My inkwell was most conspiratorially missing its' partner. "Holmes!"

"What is it?"

"That blasted insurance charlatan stole my best pen!" Holmes laughter did nothing to cool my temper. "Why, that thief! I'll press charges, Holmes, I assure you! What sort of man would take anothers, anothers pen of all things!? What on-"

"I wouldn't exert a great deal of concern, Watson, were it my loss." Holmes said, returning to the agony column he'd been studiously perusing.

"And why not?"

"I have little doubt that we've seen the last of Mr Septimus Z. Smooth…very little doubt indeed."

Hi there everyone! I know its been forever since I've posted anything, but hey...y'all know how life is. :) I wrote this little piece sometime ago as a thank you to all me wonderful friends on this loverly SH section that were so kind and helpful to me last year when I lost my job. It was a stressful time and it was only due to the grace of God and everyones' support that I managed to keep smiling. So, a HUGE thanks to: WestronWynde, Runa93, Pyrocrastinator, chuxter, FoggyKnight, Chewing Gum, Kaytori, Kadel, Elizabeth Arian, pebbles66, Jenz127, Velvet Green, aragonite and Protector of the Gray Fortress.

A tremendous thank you to my very dearest friend, Bowen Cates who started the whole thing. And a very special thank you to KCS for helping her get the ball rolling. :)

You guys are all amazing. Thanks again so much for everything! Also, please forgive me if I missed anyone. I fear my memory isn't what it once was. :P

PS: If anyone actually enjoyed this little oneshot I've considered turning it into series of sorts, so please do give me some feedback! :P Thx!