Intro: story takes place couple of months after "the sign of four" few week before John Watson's marriage.
Disclaimer: I give total credits to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle for making this fabulous pair as someone told me, they are indeed the best pair ever (laugh) I thank that someone too, for giving me the idea of shipping this two together. I never thought of it before she asked me "do you ship Holmes and Watson?" before that conversation, I didn't even know what "ship" means. (Laughs again). And lastly, I am NOT a Sherlock Holmes (the Character) fan, for aside from the glimpse of hotness every now and then, I only see him as a crazy old coop who does drugs (-.-) in the other hand, I love my dear Watson so much. (laugh)
Warning: May contain some sexual, or at very least romantic boy to boy sense. Because I'm not yet done, I don't know how this will turn out, but pray do be warned.
Pray do enjoy all Sherlockians! And if you do have time, pray do review (wink)
PS. if you would like to skip to the mystery right away, pray, by all means do. it starts at chapter 3 :)
It was just past 8pm when I walked in to our old compartment in Baker Street, just in time to witness what I counted to be the fourth shot of cocaine that day. After the sigh of both relief and pleasure, our eyes met. I raised an eyebrow questioning what I just saw.
"Cocaine? I bet that's the fourth shot to-day." I said in a slight tone of disgust. As much as I respected and admired this friend of mine, I, especially being a person of medicine, could not see the bright side of his daily drug use.
"Yes, it's the same old seven-per-cent solution. But no, my dear doctor, it's already the seventh shot today." Said he, in a manner I only could describe as drowsiness obviously due to the drug. Once again, he gave a sigh, but this time of despair. "This is as well as killing me, Watson."
At that, I felt a pang of unexpected guilt and pity. I must be honest, it has been a rather peaceful month, or maybe even dull as Holmes would place it, for there hasn't been a single crime, even for the official police to deal with. Furthermore, it has been months since our last case, which was "The Sign of Four", where I met Ms. Mary Morstan, soon to be Mrs. Mary Watson. Unlike me, who in the last turn of event had the best result, for Holmes, it robbed him of me. As much as he does not admit it, my frequent and long absence seemed to do more bad than good. The more I was not with this fellow, the more frequent he used his drugs. But as far as I see thing, I could not find a way to be together with Mary and Holmes at the same time. Sometimes I even wondered his life before we met.
"How was your date?" he inquired probably sensing my distress. It failed to amaze me that he knew I was with Mary for it didn't take Sherlock Holmes to know that. Before I could open my mouth to answer, he added some details that I never mentioned. And I must admit that it took me by surprise this time, both from his knowledge and his bitterness. "You took her to a first class restaurant. Lobster, hum? It should have made a fine meal."
"How did you know that?" I ask, "And why so bitter about it?"
His expression gloomed at my comment. He just shrugged me off saying "no matter" and went back staring at the window with his blood-shot eyes. As much as I felt guilty and sorry for this magnificent man, I too was insulted both by his bitterness and ignorance to lift his mood. So without much more words, I excuse myself and exited to my quarter. Though it was early, barely nine in the night, I headed to bed, exhausted. Just before I closed my eyes, I heard the melancholy cry of his violin. Wondering what made my companion play his violin in such a state, I nodded off to sleep in the young night.
to be continued at chapter two...
"the only real home of Holmes is in Watson..." -A friend of mine (laugh) Hey, if you identify me keep it hushed for this is a secret hobby (laughs)