NEW STORY!!! I CAN'T BELIEVE IT, I'M DOING A NEW STORY! Ahem. Anyway, I got great reviews for my last story, and I've been looking forward to doing this forever! Not much else to say, really, just thank you all for the reviews.
::Suddenly walks on stage in a dress and holding a trophy in the air.
Moonshine: You like me, you really like me!
::Christine and Kline run in and knock Moonshine over.
Kline and Christine: You like us too! I think we deserve the award!
Sorry, I couldn't resist. Everyone is doing it nowadays! So, on with the chapter! Oh, and this story is all in Watson's few, unless directed otherwise. Which won't happen, I almost promise. Oh, and, um, thanks to Someday Sara, for the copy rights for this story! Read her theatre story, it's awesome! Also, for Darker Days, someone criticized my usage of the English language, said it was to old. Let me explain something. This is how I speak. I speak with older English, and, if you ask Goth_Flutist, she'll tell you I also revert to an accent at times. So I'M SORRY for how I speak, all right?
Splendor of the Stars
Chapter One: Fancy Meeting You Here
I ran down the sidewalk as fast as I could. The only sound in the December air was my shoes slamming against the pavement. I had to see Holmes, and immediately.
I rounded the corner and saw his house, the gate swinging open. I dashed past it and slammed open the door.
Charise screamed and clutched a skimpy bathrobe to her even skimpier night clothes. I rolled my eyes and dashed up the narrow stairs to Holmes's bedroom.
He was asleep still, even though it was ten in the morning. I jumped up on the bed and began bouncing.
"Hey Holmes! Get up! Hurry now!" I yelled. Holmes groaned and rolled over. His eyes opened slowly, but then he snapped up and clutched the bedclothes to him.
"Watson! What are you doing here? And don't you know about knocking? I could be naked!" Holmes protested. I stopped and frowned down at him.
"Are you?" I asked. Holmes sighed.
"No. What is your news?" he asked. Holmes dragged himself out of bed and went towards the dresser and began pulling out clothes. I grinned and began hopping around his room.
"Ok, so you know Christine and Kline?" I asked. Holmes pulled out a pair of pants and rolled his eyes.
"Of course I know Christine and Kline. I would be a fool not to," he stated, tossing the offending pants back into the dresser. I sighed.
"Whatever. Ok, so you know that laptop I got from Christine?" I asked again. Holmes glared at me.
"Once again, I say yes. The case is still fresh in my mind. It happened but a few months ago," he replied. I nodded again.
"Well, I got an e-mail this morning from spygurl_ashling@aol.com. You know-" Holmes cut me off.
"Yes, yes. I know quite well. Christine's e-mail address. Continue," he pressed. I cleared my throat.
"So anyway, we've gotten a couple of e-mails from them before, mostly with them arguing with each other over the computer, and so I'm thinking 'no big deal'. Surprise, surprise! I open it, and voila! Behold, the e-mail from Christine and Kline," I announced dramatically. I held out the e-mail I had printed to Holmes. He snatched from my hand and began to read it aloud.
Dear Jenny (and Sherlock if you get this to him),
Hmm, it's been a while yes? I knew I should have e-mailed you sooner, but cases and school kept me busy.
Sure it did. Excuses, excuses. Can't take the blame, now can you Christine?
Shut it, Kline. Anyway, we have absolutely magnificent news!
Depends on what your version of magnificent is, C. You never know, they might view this as a curse.
I SAID, shut it, Kline. AS I WAS SAYING- Kline and I get to come to England! Superb, no?
No. Absolutely not. Horrible, devastating news. And how many months do they have to put up with my annoying self and Miss Gloomy here?
Kline, I'm warning you... We'll be staying until March 3, so that should be interesting, with Kline coming along and all.
Yeah, and we'll be getting there December 18. Our flight arrives at 10 in the morning. Hey, we'll get to spend the new year with you! Cool, 2002 all the way!
Aye, aye, aye. Yeah. So, we were kinda wondering
if we could stay with you for the entire time! Swapping girly stories, and in the morning, I'm making waffles!
You took that from 'Shrek'.
I know. I'm good!
Urg. As I was trying to say we are ever so politely asking if we might lodge at your home for... not the entire time, but for most of it. We've never been to London, you never know. Kline might get lost, or something.
Hey!
Hey what?
You insulted me back there! With the whole 'with Kline coming along and all'! How dare you!
And they call me slow...
Hey!
Hey what?!
You insulted me again! I would not get lost in London!
I better go, I think Kline needs her medication... the mental pills are wearing off.
So, look forward to seeing you December 18th!
Good-bye
HEY!!!!
She really is slow...
Christine & KLINE
Holmes laughed softly, and put the letter aside and continued rifling through his dresser.
"Cool, huh?" I asked. Holmes shrugged and held up a shirt.
"Does this look all right?" he asked. I nodded.
"And you care... why?" I inquired. Holmes stared at me.
"You do know what day it is, don't you?" he said incredulously. I thought a moment.
"Well, it's Monday, first day off from school, seven days until Christmas... it's December 18th!" I shouted. Holmes laughed.
"Brilliant deduction, Watson. If we ever hope to get to the airport in time, we must leave now," Holmes commented. I thought a moment, then grinned.
"I can driiiiivvvvveeeee!" I squealed, pulling out my keys.
Holmes groaned.
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I stared around the rapidly filling airport and tried desperately to catch a glimpse of a red haired girl, or at least a girl in a wheelchair. I turned to Holmes, who was peering through the crowds.
"Any sign of them yet?" I asked hopefully. Holmes shook his head ruefully and continued to stare past me. I rolled my eyes and turned my eyes towards the area where more passengers were leaving.
I saw three men arguing in fluent German. Definitely not Christine or Kline. They didn't know German. Two old ladies then exited the plane, but they both held knitting needles. And neither Christine or Kline knew how to knit. I waited for another five minutes, praying that they were there. But alas, they weren't. The last people off the plane were two teenage girls who had brownish hair, and had Walkmans firmly over their ears. Definitely not Christine or Kline.
I turned back to Holmes and looked at him sadly.
"Looks like they missed the plane. I don't know where they could be otherwise," I said unhappily. Holmes smiled weakly at me.
"Pity. And I was actually looking forward to their company," he moaned. I twitched my lips at that, and turned back to watch the exit, just in case.
To our ultimate surprise, one of the teenagers who had left the plane last walked over to us. The girl threw her arms around me, and I jumped back.
"Who the heck are you?" I asked angrily. The girl frowned at me.
"Excuse my friends poor manners. I believe what she was trying to say is good morning. May I ask to whom I am speaking?" Holmes said politely. The girl glared at him and tugged at her hair.
"Jeez, can't even recognize your old friend Christine when she hugs you?" the girl announced heatedly. I stared at the girl in surprise, and Holmes's jaw dropped open.
"Christine? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! I'm used to seeing you with red hair!" I exclaimed. Christine ran a hand through her light brown hair and grinned.
"I really wasn't planning on keeping the red in for the rest of my life. Doesn't go well with my complexion," Christine laughed. I held out my arms to her, and pulled her into a hug.
"Great to see you, Christine," I said. Christine's body shook with laughter.
"Just a minute ago it was 'who the heck are you', and now it's 'great to see you'. Make up your mind!" Christine chuckled. I pulled back, and she went over to Holmes and gave him a light peck on the cheek. (A.N. THERE IS NOTHING GOING ON BETWEEN THE TWO OF THEM, I PROMISE!) She stared at him for a moment.
"Hard case?" she asked suddenly. I stared at her.
"You knew this how?" I asked. Christine glanced at me, her eyes skimming my hands and wrists. Self conscious, I rubbed my wrists carefully, trying to avoid the cuts and bruises on them.
"Cuts. Bruises. Any fool can see it. Tell me about it later, Kline'll be coming soon," she declared dismissively. Holmes smiled down at her, and his eyes once again peered through the crowd.
"Where is she? How is her wheelchair working out?" he asked quickly. Christine leaned back onto the wall we were standing by.
"It worked out fine. She isn't in it anymore. No doubt she'll wish to tell you the story herself. Quite amusing, actually," Christine added, as an afterthought. Holmes raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
We stood there for a while, staring off into space, when finally Kline came running over to us.
"Hey!" she screamed. She dropped the luggage into Christine's arms (who promptly buckled under the weight) and ran forward and gave us both bear hugs.
"Sherlock, Jenny, it's just wonderful to see you again! Oh, we have so much to tell you! I see you got hurt in a case recently. Shame. Hope you didn't land in the hospital. Though Cindy might be happy to see you again, eh Sherlock! Oh, my luggage? It's minimal. Christine insisted on bringing her costume trunk, said she felt something would happen. Plus, she never travels anywhere without it. Oh, shush Christine, you know you don't. And how are you? Fine? That's great. Hey, I'm starving, what's for dinner? Those stupid airplanes give you so little. Hey, listen to this song, I just bought the CD. It's great!" Kline rambled. Holmes stared at her in astonishment and I slowly backed away.
"Ok, someone had a little bit to much sugar," I calmly said. Kline giggled.
"Pixie sticks. Only way to live!" she laughed. Christine rolled her eyes and hefted the luggage into her arms.
"Oh, shut up already Kline. I'm going to get you a muzzle someday, I swear," Christine scolded. Kline grinned and grabbed her purse, leaving Christine to carry the luggage. Then Kline snapped around.
"Whose driving?" she asked suddenly. I raised my hand and grinned. Kline's eyes went wide, and she began humming 'Taps'.
*************************************************************************************************
"Whoa, that was better than The Millennium Force!" Kline screamed. Christine tumbled out of the car, and began kissing the ground.
"Thank you Lord for getting me through that ride without having a heart attack," Christine prayed. She turned to look at me. "Don't they have something called speed limits in London?"
I glared at her. "Of course, nimrod. I went the speed limit. You are far to dramatic for your own good, you know that?" Christine laughed, and rose shakily to her feet. She stared at my house.
"It's nothing like your one in Michigan," Kline stated matter-of-factly. I rolled my eyes.
"The whole divorced thing kinda cuts off the money supply. My mom can only work so much," I snapped. Kline raised her hands, and turned to Holmes, who was struggling with the luggage.
"What does her mom do?" she called over to him. Holmes shrugged.
"Ask her."
"My mom is an astronomer/scientist. Except not. You know? She isn't big or important or anything, she just looks at stars, measures star quakes, and other stuff. She'd like to make it big time, but that won't be happening anytime soon," I reassured them. Christine nodded sullenly. Kline frowned.
"My mom is a cosmetologist for dead guys. Come to think of it, most of my family works with dead bodies. You know, with Blaine and all. And my cousin Jeremy digs holes for dead guys, and Aunt Lerlaine makes tombstones, and my dad is a police officer, part time!" she laughed. Christine and I grinned and began helping Holmes carry luggage into the house.
"My mom writes books. And newspaper articles. Mostly books, though. Fiction, but not famous. They're about a girl who solves mysteries in her home town. Guess where she got the idea. And my dad is a business man for something. The rest of my family I've never formally met, but my grandmother is a kindergarten teacher, and my Uncle Bob drives a school bus. Most of my family is full of school stuff," Christine moaned. I smiled. Holmes squinted at us over the four suitcases he was carrying.
I led them up to my room, and we dumped the suitcases onto the floor. I looked around my room to make sure it was acceptable.
My room was not elaborate, but it worked. My bed was up against the right wall, and right above the headboard was a round window. From it you could see the warehouses and abandoned buildings two streets down. My bed had purple covers on it, even though purple was my least favorite color. I liked greens myself. My CD player sat on my bedside table, and on top of it was my alarm clock. My closet was directly across the way, on the left side of the room. I had a vanity on the wall next to the end of my bed, which was now covered with theatre makeup and porcelain figures of angels. My room was painted bright green. The blue rug lay on the wooden floor, and I carefully navigated them around the room. My desk sat next to my vanity, and I was also allowed a huge armchair in my room, even though it was broke.
Holmes and I took our customary places on the bed together. After a quick glance around, Kline wound up sitting on the desk, and Christine was curled up in the chair. I slammed my hands together and leaned against Holmes.
"So, what have we been up to?" I asked. Christine waved her hand at Kline, a gesture that meant for her to begin.
"We've been busy," Kline declared. Holmes and I nodded and signaled for her to continue.
"So, after you guys leave, we get this call from a widow. Her house was burned down by some arsonist. So, you know, we're on it for a few days, and guess who did it?" she said. Holmes smiled. He had been unusually quiet so far.
"A fireman." Kline stared at him in amazement.
"How did you know?" she asked, stunned. Christine laughed and shifted in the chair.
"Kline, you're hardly hard to read, after all. The look of surprise on your face kind of gave it away. But Sherlock, how did you know?" Christine asked, directing her question at Holmes. He leaned back, causing me to fall, and pressed his fingertips together.
"A man who studies his crime the hardest is the most likely to make foolish mistakes," he said simply. He smiled down at me, and I grinned at him, gently touching my wrist.
"Ok, that was a no-brainer. Our next case was a lot better. It was a string of robberies of art galleries. We kind of fell into the case, we were near the art museum when it happened, and that was a great case! It turns out the culprits were two 95-year-old women! They would come in, give the guards a cookie laced with some chemical to knock 'em out, and then would steal whatever painting they wanted! Smartly done, if I do say so myself," Kline commented. Christine began laughing loudly. I glanced at her.
"What is wrong with you?" I asked. Christine held up a finger and continued to laugh. She calmed down after a minute or two and cleared her throat.
"We did that case when Kline was still in a wheelchair. You should have seen it! It was classic. So, you know how Kline chases the suspects and all. Well, imagine two ninety-five year-old ladies going down a boardwalk thing, in their automatic wheelchairs at ten miles an hour, with Kline behind them pushing her wheelchair! Oh, it was hilarious! I could run faster than them!" Christine laughed. Kline rolled her eyes.
"Jerk. And our third case was a really creepy one. This girl was murdered-ok, she was thirty-five- by her dead husband!" Kline exclaimed. I raised an eyebrow at that, and Holmes smirked at me.
"I am quite sure that he wasn't truly dead," Holmes reassured me. I smiled at him. Christine nodded from her position in the chair.
"Yeah, her husband wasn't actually dead. He had faked his death earlier that year. Unfortunately, nothing halfway amusing happened then," Christine remarked. Kline grinned.
"I don't know, Christine. When he came in during the night, I wasn't sure I had heard anyone scream as loud as you," Kline sniped. Christine rolled her eyes.
"I wouldn't know, I couldn't hear myself over your screams," she shot back. Kline laughed.
"The expression on your face was priceless. Which I had a camera."
"Yeah, so police could figure out what happened to you!"
Holmes cleared his throat softly, and the two bickering friends snapped their attention back at him.
"If you ladies are quite finished...?" Holmes asked. Christine smiled sheepishly.
"Sorry."
"I would be happy to inform you of our cases the past months, if you so desire," Holmes said nonchalantly. Kline nodded eagerly.
"Oh, yeah! Yours are sure to be better than ours," Kline replied. Holmes smiled appreciatively and leaned back on the bed. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingers together.
"Very well. Our first case after the Michigan affair, was The Giant Cat of the Sumatra family (A.N. Couldn't resist, sorry!). We are not at privilege to tell you of that, however, as mankind is not ready for such a thing. However, Watson and I were delighted to find out I was allergic to cats during that escapade," Holmes said, stifling a smile.
"He sneezed every time the cat was around," I pointed out, in case they had missed the point. They hadn't.
"Our second case, however, we are free to tell you about. I must say, it was a ridiculous case, and I have never been so insulted in my life. It was a case involving the ghost of a vampire. As Watson and I do not believe in such foolish things, we were both skeptical from the beginning. And we had every right to be. The culprit of the case was a small man, who painted himself white, and wore plastic fangs in his mouth. We threw him in jail for the robbery of multiple superstitious families. Simple, and remarkably imprudent," Holmes finished. I grinned in spite of myself.
"Does sound stupid," Christine remarked finally. Holmes smiled at her.
"But of course. The 'vampires' method of scaring the families was to scream 'Boo!' at them," Holmes said. I cracked up at this. I couldn't help but remember the look of astonishment on Holmes's face when he had first encountered the man. Then when his face had dissolved into laughter, that was the best. Kline frowned suddenly.
"But where did the cuts on your wrists and stuff come from?" she asked. I answered that one.
"During the vampire case, we fell through a stone tunnel. The rocks cut our hands pretty badly. Am I to assume that your cases didn't land you in the hospital?" I asked. Christine shrugged.
"Not really. We cut lots of cuts and bruises after the 'dead' guy collapsed a platform on us. Trust me, wood falling on you hurts, but not enough to send you to the hospital," Christine informed us, showing us some cuts on her shoulders. I turned to Kline and smiled.
"And how is Jason?" I asked. Kline groaned.
"That jerk and I broke up about a week after you guys left. Now I'm dating Alex Russel. He's really sweet," giggled Kline. Christine smiled.
"I agree. He is a much better man than he," she said. Holmes smiled at us, then stood to his feet.
"I'm sorry to say this, but I really must be getting home. Charise and father are going out tonight, and they prefer me home during those times. I will see you in the morning?" he asked. Kline grinned.
"I have a feeling we're going to have a lot of fun while we're here!" she exclaimed.
First chapter, fourth story. Please review!