February 1881
Holmes

I was leaning back in my armchair smoking my favourite pipe; the fire crackled merrily in the hearth. Watson would be lunching at his club, he said at breakfast, Mrs. Hudson went to visit her sister overnight, and I admit I was rather enjoying my solitude. Watson was by no means an obnoxious fellow-lodger, but it was still rather difficult for me to grow used to living with another person in such close proximity.

All of a sudden, the doorbell pealed frantically. Laying my pipe aside with an annoyed growl, I strode to the door and yanked it open. My annoyance only increased when I beheld an unfamiliar gentleman supporting my fellow-lodger, who looked deathly pale and was barely able to keep his feet.

"Watson? What on earth happened?!" I inquired, rather pointedly.

"It's nothing, Holmes, I'll be all right shortly," Watson muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"He collapsed suddenly whilst we were playing billiards, Mr. Holmes," the unfamiliar gentleman hastened to explain. "My name's Morrison."

"Pleased to meet you, I'm sure," I uttered the required courtesy mechanically. "Well, don't stand there, Mr. Morrison; come in." I took Watson's other arm and together we guided him to the settee.

"Will you be all right?" Morrison asked Watson once he sat down.

"Yes, yes, William. Go on."

"If you're sure," Morrison retorted dubiously. "Well, good day, Mr. Holmes. Doctor."

I showed him out and came back to my fellow lodger.

"Doctor? Is there anything you require?"

"No…no, I don't think so." His appearance belied his words; he was ghastly white and still shivering.

"Doctor…are you certain? You don't look at all well."

"Thank you, Holmes," he muttered drily and I was glad to see he could still jest.

"Seriously, now, what is wrong? Shall I summon another physician?"

"No, no need for that," he sighed. "Just…would you hand me my bag and a glass of water?"

I hastened to fetch the required items, handing them both to him, and went to get a blanket from his bedroom, draping it over him.

He gave me a grateful smile after swallowing a powder he retrieved from his bag and draining the water glass.

A sudden thought occurred to me.

"Uh…Doctor, this…sudden illness of yours is not contagious, is it?"

Watson gave the ghost of a smile. "Not unless you intend to draw some blood from me and inject it into your veins. It's malaria, Holmes…another souvenir of my Army career, I'm afraid."

"It is fortunate you've quinine on hand, then."

"Fortune has nothing to do with it; I always keep a supply handy."

"I see; my apologies."

"No, no need. I apologise; I should not have been so irritable."

"It's quite all right, Doctor."

A few minutes passed, him leaning back on the settee with his eyes half-closed and me looking at him. Then he opened his eyes and startled me by inquiring in a rather annoyed tone of voice, "Whyever are you staring at me so, Holmes?"

I rose to my feet, fetched the hand mirror from my desk and proffered it to him. "See for yourself, Doctor."

"Ah, I see," he muttered upon seeing in the mirror that his face was bright red and reached into his bag, pulling out his thermometer. He slid it under his tongue and we were both silent for the next few minutes. Then he slid the thermometer out of his mouth, read it and winced, muttering, "Why am I not surprised."

"Doctor? How high is it?"

"102," he sighed.

"That is not so bad…"

"I guarantee you, Holmes, it will go much higher."

"Is there anything you need?"

"Well…another glass of water, if it's not too much trouble…and do you mind terribly if I stay down here?"

"No, of course not," I assured him, handing him the glass.

He drained it eagerly, muttering a thank-you. This new fellow-lodger of mine was courteous to a fault. Feeling awkward just sitting there staring at him, I removed myself to my desk and applied my efforts to updating my commonplace book, pasting recent newspaper cuttings into it. I grew quite absorbed in my work and was surprised to find an hour passed when I glanced up at my desk clock. Looking over at Watson, I saw him removing the thermometer from his mouth.

"How high, Doctor?" I inquired matter-of-factly.

"106. Quod erat demonstrandum," he exhaled, collapsing back against the cushions. He sounded so utterly miserable that, despite my annoyance with this interruption to the pleasant afternoon I was having, I was moved to ask, "Are you quite certain you do not want me to call another doctor?"

"Thank you, Holmes, but that truly is not necessary. Just a few more hours and I shall be quite all right."

I brought him a washcloth and a small basin of cold water, which he took from me in grateful surprise, laying the wet washcloth on his forehead.

"That feels much better; thank you." I nodded and went back to my index, but unaccountably could not concentrate and kept stealing glances in his direction.

About two more hours passed in this manner…then I saw Watson remove the thermometer from his mouth and give a small smile of satisfaction. "104, Holmes."

"It's decreasing, then?"

"Yes," he agreed. "I already feel much better."

"You're dripping with sweat, though," I observed.

"That is normal."

"I see."

As the evening went on, his temperature gradually decreased to normal and he slipped into an exhausted sleep. Eventually, I retired to my bedroom myself, leaving the door open, just in case. True to his word, he looked fine, if somewhat exhausted, when he made his appearance at breakfast the next morning. Mrs. Hudson was not yet back, but I managed to get tea, toast, and porridge on the table without setting the kitchen afire.

"How are you feeling?" I inquired, out of courtesy.

"Much better. And, Holmes?"

"Yes?" I inquired warily.

"Thank you. You've been most kind."

I squirmed uneasily; how I loathed those emotional demonstrations! I truly never knew what to say in return…then a sudden thought occurred to me.

"You are quite welcome, Doctor. You do, however, realise that I have a vested interest in your well-being?"

"Oh?" he inquired, surprised.

"I do rather like our current lodgings, and you are paying half the rent."

We both laughed for the next few minutes, he in amusement and I in sheer relief.


A/N: Thanks for reading; hope you enjoyed! Reviews, C&C most welcome, as usual. And a plug for a good cause: if you've a minute, please look at this: www. bafta4jb. com (remove spaces :)