(Thank you to MissBubbles the FANTASTIC beta!)

As the assistant to Sherlock Homes it has long been my duty and privilege to keep a journal on his life. A journal documenting the cases, clues, conundrums and conclusions his brilliant mind unravels like loose knitting. Holmes is aware of my scribbling, often offering-up comments on some particulars of a case that he wants recorded for future reference. What he is unaware of is the companion journal I have also been penning. Since these thoughts are far more personal in nature, I would never share them with Holmes. This journal is more for the preservation of my mental health than for anything else; A place to examine the personal side of my relationship with the world's most brilliant mind and most frustrating man.

June, 1901

We had been running at top speed towards an armed Albino banker. The reasons for the chase are all discussed in detail in my main case journal. What I want to record here is what happened after the Albino turned on us and fired his shots, causing Holmes and I to scurry, ratlike, into an abandoned dockyard. Panting from our exertion, we staggered further into the empty warehouse to recover. A few broken crates provided seating and we soon caught our breath.

We rose together, planning to leave, but as I turned towards Holmes, expecting a witty quip or a new case angle, he grabbed my arms and pressed his lips to mine. Being a man of medicine I understand that near-death experiences often produce fevered emotions in people. Holmes being highly unpredictable at the best of times, I took the kiss as nothing more than a reassurance from one friend to another; a simple celebration of survival. It was only when the kiss lingered that my thoughts on its meaning took a different path. I was so taken aback that I let my body respond before my mind could catch up. I felt my lips linger and even begin to push back.

Quickly coming to reason I stepped away from him. I was prepared to make a joke and brush off the matter when my voice caught in my throat at the sight of Holmes before me. His hair, tussled at the best of times, now seemed positively wild. His eyes were liquid, almost feral and his lips…wet, plump, inviting. I must admit, here and nowhere else, that I felt an overwhelming need to taste them. Bewitched, I stepped forward, clasped him on the back of his neck and pulled him into a forceful kiss. I blush now even thinking of my actions. My experience in such matters before this day had been two chaste kisses forced on me by females more willing than necessary to show-off their feminine wiles. My body pressed against his like two Jellyfish preparing to mate and I felt his excitement hard against my left thigh. I knew my body was responding in kind but could not think of what it was revealing to Holmes in that moment, or I would have stopped right there and died of shame. Instead, all my senses were awash with the taste of Holmes, the sweetness of his tobacco mixed with the sting of his drink, the feel of him in my arms and the desire running rampant through my body. A moan escaped me and that was enough to break the spell. I released the hold I had on Holmes as he lowered me to the ground. I remember feeling bewildered that my feet had left the ground without my realizing that they had done so. I was in shock. I still am. Was this a mere aberration? An experiment that Holmes would store in his vault of knowledge and use whenever needed? Perhaps I shall never truly know.

XXXXXX

Watson

If, Dear Chum, you simply place this journal in two sack clothes under the third floorboard of your closet with only a small lock to secure the bundle, then you are to blame for my finding it. You may have well left a note stating "Holmes, please read this".

As I have now read over your fine account of our recent afternoon, I feel compelled to add two points to your findings:

I believe you are referring to the mating habits of the Seahorse, not the Jellyfish. The male Jellyfish simply sprays his seed into the water and the female swims through it. Neither party touches during this transaction. Seahorses, however, do indeed wrap around each other for the majority of their mating ritual.

I liked being tasted.

Holmes