Summary: First chapter, woho! NOTE: I have decided to ignore the whole
Rating: K
Pairings: None, except for John and Mary
Disclaimer: These lovely characters belongs to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, but apparently is Andrea Plunket executor of Conan Doyle's estate and owner of the rights to the detective series. Guy Ritchie owns the film that inspired me.
Well, I'm merely borrowing them for my stories, created with my twisted fangirl mind.
Simple design
By AnimeBride
Mello
John Watson
"You could not have picked another date, could you?"
"I'm not quite sure I'm following you." Watson frowned sceptically. Holmes always knew where he was going.
"I've been a married man for almost four months now and how many times have you come to visit my new house. Twenty-one?"
"Twenty-two if you count Tuesday. That's far more than you've been to Baker Street, Watson." The detective added with a puckered brow. Watson snorted. There were so much to do now; of course he didn't have time to waste with his friend like old days. Any reasonable man would understand that.
There again, Holmes wasn't really what you can call a reasonable man.
"Over twenty times, and exactly how many of these times have Mary been in the house?"
"I do recall her being slightly disagreeing with my comments on the placements of the sofa."
"Besides the time we both showed you the house."
"I still fail to see your point, old boy." The detective answered as he took a nonchalant sip of wine. The doctor paused a bit before continuing on what he wanted to say, meeting his old friend's eyes.
"Holmes. Every time you're there, you visit me. Only me."
"Why wouldn't I? If one goes to see the household surly he wishes to exchange some time with the man of the house?"
"What about the lady then?"
"Are you blaming me for visiting your house, my dear doctor? If so, I can assure you my visits will-"
"No, no, Holmes. Frankly, I'm just wondering why you are avoiding Mary?"
"You're accusing the very one that comes to the house and not the one leaving it?"
"What do you mean?"
"Maybe you should ask that wife of yours why she has been avoiding me?"
"Don't speak of her like that! Why would Mary do that, she asked me only two days ago about your health. Being the caring woman she is."
"Of course she did."
"Stop it."
"I do recall, my dear Watson, I was the one who planned this very dinner."
"On the very night when Mary is out of town."
"I can't remember you telling me that."
"I can bet my dog on that you knew it anyway."
"Our dog."
"The dog!"
"Isn't it selfish to call him just your dog when he is living wi-"
"It doesn't matter, Holmes. This is not about Gladstone." Watson sighed. If he knew Holmes right, which he did, this could go on the whole night. It was probably better if he just said it straight out, though he was not very fond of doing so. "This is about you and Mary."
"I understand." Holmes said with a calm voice. Too calm, more precisely.
"Do you?" Watson frowned extremely distrustfully.
"You're tired. Being married is more stressful than you imaged. You're exhausted. Maybe feeling sensitive too." He answered with a light smile on his lips, like he knew exactly how Watson felt. Which he certainly did not. The whole thing started to get the young doctor increasingly irritated. Sure, he was somewhat tired, but not as tired as he was at having this conversation.
"I'm not sensitive-"
"How is she handling it?"
"Fine, just as me. That is why-"
"Good, good. The two of you getting along?"
"Of course. If you would let me-"
"And the sex life?"
"Holmes! Why in heavens name are you-"
"Not good, I see. Explains a lot actually."
"Holmes!" Watson exclaimed angrily, he had taken it too far.
"Allow me to explain."
"Allow me; you are scared." Holmes had just opened his mouth to counter, but the words seemed to take him by surprise. He looked at the young doctor who continued now when he finally had his attention. "Well, maybe that was over the top, but I know you. You do not like when things take another turn and you can't control it. If you're not fascinated by some part of the event, of course. Listen, things might change but I'm still your doctor. Your friend. You need to size the truth and stop acting like a child. I know you will be fine without me." A pause, the two formally partners looked at each other. Holmes seemed to be thinking about something, studying Watson closely as he did so. He closed his eyes and smiled as he once again looked up.
"Extraordinary diagnosis, doctor. I'm proud of you." Watson smiled in relief, it had gone well. Holmes nodded like he was confirming something to himself as he reached for the dark bottle. "More wine?"
They continued to talk about easy common things; when the grand opening of the bridge would be, how Watson's patients were doing and so on. Sometimes Holmes mentioned something that reminded them of one of their old cases, but he lead the conversation away from it just as the doctor would be interested about it. Watson decided to not care about it, he was still thankful that he had said what was one his heart and his friend had taken it rather well. Almost like an adult.
"I would reconsider eating that if I was you, old boy."
"And why would you do that?" Watson looked between Holmes and the small chocolate dessert that had been placed in front of him only moments ago.
"Come on, Watson. Do not disappoint me. Look at the decoration."
"It is quite neat."
"More, anything out of the ordinary?"
"They have added a cinnamon stick on top."
"And why would one do such a thing to an already perfect cake?"
"Maybe because someone thought it would look good. I cannot say that I disagree." He answered with a floating tone, he was not amused by Holmes' game this time.
"Quite charming to the eye, yes, but you must broaden your mind."
"Smells quite odd." Watson finally said after a short moment where he actually tried to follow.
"Odd, as in disapproval of the dish?"
"Not really, no."
"So you would still consider putting it in your mouth. In other words: eating it?"
"Yes."
"Seems like the cinnamon have fulfilled its task."
"Are you implying-"
"Quite remarkable tree, the cinnamon," Holmes interjected. " Belongs to the family Lauraceae. It is often confused with other similar species and the similar spices derived from them, such as Cassia and Cinnamomum burmannii, which are often called-"
"Holmes, are you saying that my dessert, the meal I have been waiting for the whole dinner, is poisoned?" Watson gave the cake a cynical look, why must something always happen? He liked the dessert because when he actually got to eat one that fact alone proved that the dinner had been successful. Which was quite remarkable, with Holmes as your company.
"You could always try it if you like, doctor."
"This is absurd. You are the one that is always targeted."
"Fashion changes quicker than one can fill one's wardrobe. Besides, the waiter was sweating quite more than he usually does and did not dare to look at neither of us."
"Can't really blame him for it, can we?" They both smiled and laughed at the situation. It was almost like old times.
"Shall we?" Holmes nodded toward the door and Watson agreed. He could survive without the dessert this time.
For the following weeks Watson didn't think much about his conversation with Holmes or the dessert incident. He simply distracted himself with work from the clinic. There was a special comfort with coming home to a loving wife, they both knowing he had worked hard for their sakes, as she placed a gentle kiss on his lips. It remembered him slightly of the feeling when a case had been solved successfully, Holmes patting his back saying something like 'well done, old boy, well done...'
Though he told himself there was no such connection.
"John, darling. There is a package for you." The young doctor looked a bit surprised from the young maid who took his outdoor clothes and excused herself, to his wife. Mary was dressed in a delightful green dress, a caring smile decorated her lips.
"Thank you, Mary. Do you know from whom?" he asked as she had given him her usual I'm-glad-you're-home-kiss.
"From Mr. Holmes, actually. Did the two of you have a nice dinner the other day?" Mary said with a smile, but Watson could sense something else too. He decided to leave it for now. He couldn't really deny he was far more interested in the package placed on the table in the tearoom. Addressed to him. From Holmes.
"Quite pleasant."
"I'm going to bed now. See you tomorrow." She gave his arm a squeeze and he gave her a light kiss in return. She was apparently not interested in the small paper box.
"Can't wait, love."
Watson removed the dark green strings and lifted the box's cover. Inside the brown box was a chocolate cake. Like the one at the Royal. He grimaced as he looked closer. Exactly like the one at the Royal. Holmes knew why he liked desserts; was this his idea of a proper ending to their dinner? He scrutinized the box more closely. No note. The black haired man would surely take time to scrabble something down, yet there was nothing of the sort in the package.
Could this also been- No. He was not Holmes. People liked him. Besides, he wasn't Holmes partner anymore; he had no interest in other people's affairs. This was merely his old friend playing with him. Nothing else.
"Rubbish."
He took one final look at the chocolate cake before throwing it out with the garbage. He was not paranoid, he would just pay Gladstone a visit next weekend and maybe confront his former partner about it, while he was there anyway.
To be continued.
Author's Notes: HELLO THERE, LADS. It's been a loooong time since I last wrote something that I can post here, how are you all? I watched the new Sherlock Holmes film and GODDAMMIT. I kept telling myself "...don't ship it, don't ship it, don't ship it..." and I do believe my first words after the film was "I SHIP IT." Hey, at least I tried, you gotta give me that ;D and now I can't get enough of this lovely paring, ah!
It just that... I'm a bit scared, actually. What if I don't get the characters right? Hmmm.... It took a month for me to get the courage to start writing, two days to finish it and then another week because my brother is a really lazy beta reader (though good as hell!). I'm currently working with chapter 2, and it's terrifying as it is written from Holmes' pov.
I borrowed "The complete illustrated short stories -Sherlock Holmes" yesterday AND I LOVE IT. All 56 wonderful stories in my hands, do I need to say more? I'm very pleased to find quotes from the novels in the new film and this helps me to understand the characters.
God, I just talking and talking when I should be studying English (hoh!).
..... surely reading "The Man with the Twisted Lip" counts? -sneaks away to read-
A big THANK YOOOOOOOU to my beta readers: Sara and Danne.
I loooooooooove reviws and I will start to answer them again, so please tell me what's on your mind! Hope you all have a good time until next time!