NOTE/DISCLAIMER: Konnichiwa! I did this for amusement and I hope Holmes doesn't appear too OOC because I didn't read the adult version of Sherlock Holmes. I only got to read the simplified version at the library. I don't own Sherlock Holmes nor Kuroshitsuji. They belong respectively to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle & Yana Toboso.
Tick tock! Tick tock! Tick tock! A second passed. A minute passed. Ten minutes passed. Half an hour flew just like that. Sherlock Holmes ran a hand in his hair, thinking. He was aggravated of the fact that he hadn't a case to solve for the past two weeks. It was a peculiar matter which was encapsulating his mind- dwelling deeply in his most personal thoughts. He wondered about his partner John Watson. They had been friends for quite awhile and also a partner in crime in upholding justice in London. He had always been amused with crime solving tales he read in books back when he was a boy.
There was also a part of him that made him an honourable man. He wanted peace and happiness in his beloved country. He wanted to serve the Queen and protect his country at the same time. Being a detective is an interesting career for him since that he liked completing puzzle pieces, deciphering unfathomable codes and getting his hands on the culprit to help anyone who seeks his help. Payment wasn't that much of a matter to him. He was only doing his career to protect his country and to also lead a decent life with the payment he gets.
Part of Holmes' mind was dwelling on John Watson. The doctor who had been curing and treating him whenever he was mildly or seriously injured. He could feel his relationship with Watson was bonding really strong like concrete. They started out as friends, and then progressed as best friends then evolved to brotherhood. What was more after that? Surely there was a limit to everything but between a male and a female, it can proceed to being labeled as lovers if they had strong affection for each other. As for Holmes and Watson, there won't be much for them after brotherhood but if their emotions got higher to another level, God knows if they could actually achieve that stage.
The town of London was beautifully unique in its own way. Holmes was certainly positive that he would want to remain living in Baker Street for the rest of his life but sometimes a part of him wanted to leave London and live in the outskirts when he was older just to get away from the hustle and bustle of this town. Of course there were some streets in London that smelled trouble which was vulnerable to various types of crime. Murder, robbery and the list goes on, the parchment of the list could be sevenfold or more.
Holmes and Watson had been in contact with the men in Scotland Yard for quite some time and they had been very useful in solving cases. Holmes had succeeded in everything except the time when he lost to a woman which made him embarassed as a man. The woman who humiliated him, Irene Adler was someone who he shouldn't look down on but rather loathe her as much as any of the cheap whores that could be easily found on the dark dirty streets of London.
The grandfather clock sounded, indicating that an hour had passed. Another boring day had passed. It was already midnight. Holmes stared at the violin and thought of playing it, creating a melody to fill the dull and lifeless atmosphere of the room.
The man ran his gingers on the polished wood of the violin, thinking of its beauty. Not tonight, he thought. He already had conjured up a little piece of melody in his mind. He would have to sound the instrument tomorrow. He wouldn't want Watson to barge in this room with rage, complaining that he wouldn't get adequate rest if Holmes sounded the instrument.
A soft piece of harmonious melody filled his mind and he took out some sheets of paper and started writing out the lyrics. It went on for an hour and before he knew it, he was yawning and grinning. All he had to do was compose the rhythm on the manuscript papers and try his best to remember the main rhythm of the song or else he would forget and a beautiful piece of melody would go to a waste.
Holmes grinned to himself. He was also musically talented. A gift in his life that he would never trade for anything else. He treasures it as much as his ability to solve crimes. A gift he could fully make use when he retired. It would just be him and his violin for the rest of his life unless he got married and have children.
Unfortunately, he had never met any woman that interested him as far as he was concerned. John used to be in a relationship with Mary but things didn't work out because she was constantly worried about his career and his injuries. She always wanted him to always be with her but that demand was difficult to fulfill. If they were to get married, their marriage wouldn't be a happy one.
The detective felt sorry for the doctor but at the same time, he was also more relieved when he had broken up with her. It was a strange feeling but he was rather paranoid when Mary was constantly reminding Watson to be careful as if he was going to be shot the moment he stepped out of their flat. It made Holmes uncomfortable.
The night was silent and Holmes wanted to smoke his pipe. He left the table, exited the room and silently walked down the stairs. He turned the doorknob and shut the door silently. It was rather cold outside. He pulled coat closer to cover his chest. It wasn't safe to walk on the streets around this time but he was a grown man and he knew the risks. Besides, he did possess martial arts skills.
"Holmes, Holmes!" a soft but manly voice rang.
The skinny doctor shook the detective. They had to leave. They were ordered to investigate the murder of a prostitute at White Chapel. They had to leave immediately.
"Holmes!" he said louder as he shook the shoulders.
The detective lifted his eyelids slowly, feeling annoyed. He had slept late last night and the first thing he was looking forward to in the morning was a cup of hot cocoa instead of being shaken. He had fallen asleep after returning from his stroll. He was seated at the desk, clearing the books off the table. He was resting his head for awhile on one of the stacks and he fell asleep.
Holmes sat up and stared groggily at Watson. The doctor smiled at him.
"Good morning, Holmes. We're leaving for White Chapel in a few minutes, I presume."
The detective grumbled and said, "It's only eight in the morning, my dear friend."
The doctor stared at him incredulously. "What have you been doing last night?"
"None of your business, doctor!" the detective snapped.
However, the doctor found it annoying and he grasped the detective's hand roughly and said, "Whatever your business is, Holmes, we have to get to White Chapel in ten minutes and that's an order by the Scotland Yard!"
Holmes pulled his hand away from the hard grasp. He was delighted to hear that they finally had a case but he was aggravated with Watson's sudden reaction like that. He glared at Watson and stood up, left the room to get himself ready for the case.
By the time Holmes and Watson have arrived, they were not surprised to see the group of curious citizens hovering the area, too curious to see the face of the death of the victim.
Loudly, Holmes said, "Coming through, coming through," as the crowd of people of different ages parted, creating a space for him and Watson to get to the victim's body.
However, the two men were surprised to see a boy with an age roughly twelve or thirteen and next to him was a tall, handsome young man clad in a butler uniform. The two strangers were staring at the corpse of a young woman with her intestines ripped up and a huge splotch of blood inking her abdomen.
"Holmes, do you have any idea why would a rich boy of his age would seem so interested in the death of a random prostitute?" Watson whispered to Holmes.
"We'll see, my dear friend," said Holmes and he made his way to the boy, feeling curious about the eye patch covering the boy's right eye and expensive clothes he was wearing.
"Excuse me, young one but what is it about the death of this woman that interests you so much?" Holmes enquired.
The boy, stared at him from head to toe with slight disgust and annoyance. The butler, who was next to him, inched closer and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and said, "Good morning sir, you must be that well known detective Sherlock Holmes, aren't you, sir?"
The atmosphere around them was beginning to tense up. The boy glared at his butler and pushed the hand off of his shoulders and commanded, "Stay silent, Sebastian. I can handle this myself."
Watson, who was a meter behind Holmes, stared oddly at the boy and wondered who were his parents and why he was here, acting as if he was some kind of a crime investigator.
Carefully and with full of thoughts, Holmes said, "Who are you, young sir?"
The boy snickered and replied, "Phantomhive, Ciel Phantomhive, Mr Holmes."
"Ahh….I see, My Phantomhive. What brings you here?" Holmes said.
Ciel replied, "I believe that there's nothing much for you to do here, Mr Holmes. Sebastian and I have done the investigation and spoken to the policemen."
Watson, who was silent, stood next to Holmes and said, "You have not answered Holmes' question!"
Ciel stared at Watson with a smug on his face and said, "Isn't it obvious, Mr Watson? I am here to solve the death of this woman and to capture the culprit!"
Watson was beginning to feel annoyed with Ciel and Holmes could clearly read the expression on John Watson's face. Holmes took over and asked Ciel, "By whose order are you permitted to be here?"
Ciel raised an eyebrow and said, "Oh, how unfortunate of you, Mr Holmes. As a member of the Scotland Yard, aren't you supposed to know of who I am?"
"Well, all I do know is that you are a boy by the name of Ciel, a family member of the Phantomhive and," he stared at the butler, "this young man has the name of Sebastian."
Sebastian bowed and said, "Indeed, I am Sebastian, sir. I serve the Phantomhive family with dignity until death."
Watson stared at Sebastian oddly and the butler stared back at him with a fake grin, which was the total opposite of the expression glowing in his demonic eyes.
"I serve and protect my young master, Sir Phantomhive. I am just one hell of a butler," Sebastian said proudly.
One hell of annoyance, that is ! Watson thought eerily.
Holmes was getting bored with the off-topic conversation and again, he said, "By whose order are you permitted to be here?"
Ciel proudly grinned and said, "The Queen's order, Mr Holmes."
Holmes felt a slight irritated feeling looking at the boy's eerie grin. However, both Holmes and Watson's eyes widened when the boy mentioned about the Queen.
Watson asked, "How are you related to the Queen?"
Holmes couldn't believe what he was seeing and what he was hearing. Who in the whole of London is this mysterious boy and how is he getting an order like that from the Queen?
Ciel showed an expression of disgust and annoyance and replied, "I am the dog of Her Majesty, Mr Holmes. I am given a duty to fulfill her order of keeping this beloved country of England safe from nasty criminals, Mr Holmes. I have been given this duty and as a Phantomhive, it is my responsibility to carry out the Queen's orders with pride and honour. Oh and in case you have no idea where I stand. I am an Earl. Therefore, I should be respected and be addressed as 'Lord Phantomhive'."
Holmes was still not satisfied. He hasn't heard of this earl. He bombarded with more questions, "I humbly agree about carrying out the Queen's orders but I would like to know where your parents are and why a boy like you at a very young age doing a duty of a grown man."
Sebastian, who was stearing at the portable stopwatch sized clock in his hand, shut the clock and said, "Young master, I am dearly sorry to interrupt your conversation but we have to leave immediately for your conference with Sir Lau."
Ciel stared at Sebastian, then back at Holmes. He pulled his tophat lower on his head and said, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Mr Holmes but I have a very important meeting with the Chinese ambassador and so I shall leave."
Holmes stared at Ciel and said, "We shall meet again, Lord Phantomhive."
Ciel narrowed his eyes and sarcastically said, "It was an honour to meet an intelligent detective like you, Mr Sherlock Holmes," and he walked away, his cape flying behind him and Sebastian walked behind his young master, grinning at Watson and Holmes before making his speechless exit.
Watson stared at the two mysterious people until they disappeared in the crowd. Some policemen were clearing up the corpse.
He said to Holmes, "That insolent boy is purely nothing but a rude spoiled arrogant peacock! I wonder which nobleman raises such a boy like him!"
Holmes said, "He is one kind of a boy but I must be aware that his intelligence is far beyond a normal boy of his age.
Watson was losing his temper and said, "He was indirectly insulting you Holmes!"
The slightly upset detective placed a hand on the doctor's shoulder to calm him down.
"We shall not be disturbed by that boy, my dear friend. I shall enquire the Scotland Yard if we are still part of the case."
For a moment, Watson felt numb when Holmes touched his shoulder. He could feel a jolt of electricity flowing through his body. Why did he react like that?
Holmes was rather disappointed and so the both of them exited the crowd and made their way to the headquarters of Scotland Yard.
Apparently, the both of them were off the case. Watson was rather frustrated and Holmes was devastated. At least he had a song to work on. Every morning, he would recite his violin while Watson spent his time reading books at the library. Mrs Hudson served them tea and coffee as usual but that didn't stop her from conversing with them especially with Watson.
"What is the matter with Holmes? He had been playing his violin every morning and evening without fail. I am not trying to say it is unpleasant but don't you think he should leave the flat and go for a stroll to clear out his mind. It is unhealthy of him to sit in the stuffy room, I might add," said Mrs Hudson curiously.
Watson shrugged his shoulders and said, "I am annoyed with him but we shall leave him like that. He is devastated that we are off the case of that prostitute. It would be an interesting case but it is a shame that we have been ordered to be off the case."
Mrs Hudson stared incredulously at him and said, "Then, who is taking over the case?'
Watson replied, "A young Earl of the Phantomhive clan. I have not heard of him and his parents throughout my life."
The maid said, "Maybe it is a case just meant for him to solve. I have no idea at all what is with the sudden complicated and imprecise order those government people are giving out right now."
Watson sighed and said, "It is best we leave that to the government. I guess right now we just have to wait for a local to approach us for help."
The lady nodded and left the library.
The rest of the days went by just like that. Holmes and Watson were awfully bored. There was nothing much to do except do their own research or read books or have a stroll around the streets of London.
Holmes was composing his music again, locked up in his room. The melody kept haunting his head because it wanted to be written clearly on the music sheets. He forced himself day and night to finish the piece but there was a roadblock in his mind and he couldn't finish a small part.
He had been practicing day and night and Watson was getting tired of the violin screeching from Holmes' room. He had had enough of it and decided to question why Holmes had been so obsessed with the violin all of a sudden.
He knocked on the door. The violin was still screeching.
"HOLMES! OPEN UP THE DAMN DOOR!" he shouted.
The screeching stopped. He could hear footsteps gradually getting louder. The doorknob turned and the door swung open. Holmes stood at the door. He looked like a zombie. Bloodshot eyes and dark circles under them.
"It is almost midnight! I need to sleep!" said the doctor.
"Wouldn't my beautiful piece drift you to sleep?" Holmes asked lazily.
"Violin screeching? Holmes, you REALLY need to get out of this flat and go walk around town! It is very unhealthy of you to stay locked up in your room!" Watson said in a panicked tone.
"I….will. When I'm done with the last part!" Holmes snapped and shut the door in Watson's face.
Silence.
Watson shook his head and went back to his bed. He felt as if Holmes might have gone lunatic.
"A new case, Holmes! This time we're really solving it!" Watson said cheerfully as he ran down the corridor, heading to Holmes' room.
He knocked on the door. No respond. He slowly turned the doorknob and the door creaked open. Holmes was fast asleep on his desk. There were a few sheets of music papers under a stack of books.
Watson walked over and looked at them. He read the lyrics carefully. It was poetically written and his eyes widened with shock. Holmes was in love! But who?
Curiosity swept over his body and he backed off and left the room. Who was Holmes in love with?
Holmes and Watson were working on a robbery case. It wasn't unusual but at least there was something more exciting for them to do than just laze around in the flat. Holmes was researching and Watson was brainstorming his own theories.
Mrs Hudson entered the room and left them a tray of coffee pot and two cups. She grinned at the two men before leaving them to their privacy.
Watson said, "Holmes, I truly understand how you feel but you need a break."
Holmes stared at the man and said, "What do you mean by that?"
The doctor fidgeted. "Well…I read through your music sheets and-"
Holmes snapped, "You really can't keep your hands off of my things, can you?"
The doctor stammered, "I'm-I'm sorry Holmes but if there is a woman in your mind right now, I-"
The detective put up his hand and said, "Enough, Watson. We are to finish up this case as soon as possible and idle talks will only delay our work."
Silence filled the room. Holmes felt guilty for being rude to Watson. He was embarassed that Watson had read his lyrics. He was actually pouring out his heart to that man but he knew that Watson had no idea that he spent sleepless nights writing out that song for Watson.
He was almost done with the song and he wished to present it to Watson, the man he loved. He had to work on it until it was perfect just for Watson. It was something he had to be serious about apart from the case he was currently working on.
It was Sunday and Mrs Hudson had her day off. The two men had been fighting with the gangs related to the robbery and they were injured. Holmes couldn't believe that he would look awful playing his violin to Watson in this state. Watson on the other hand, was devastated that they were close to catching the culprit. He was also wondering if the Phantomhive Earl had solved the mystery of the murdered prostitute.
Watson stared at Holmes and asked, "Do you need anymore iodine for your wound?"
Holmes shook his head.
Watson expected an answer but Holmes remained silent.
"Do you mind if I ask about that woman in your mind? She is someone we've encountered with, am I right?" Watson asked, recollecting his memory of the time when they had a conflict with Irene Adler.
"Why are you so interested about it, all of a sudden?" Holmes asked.
Watson clenched his fists but that made his palms ache even more.
"Because…You seem very engrossed in the lyrics, my friend."
Holmes looked away from Watson. He wanted to express his love to Watson but not at a time like this when he is in a bad shape. He gave in.
"Do you find any interest in the lyrics?"
Watson answered, "Well, I think it's beautiful, my dear Holmes. It's wonderfully written. I should not have scolded you and pounded on the door."
Holmes chuckled. "Those lyrics are not meant for Adler. This person I love is someone I treasure so much."
"Why, my friend. A person we love is the person we care and treasure. I still have no clue who you are referring to," said Watson curiously.
"You're still persistent about it, aren't you?" Holmes teased.
Watson raised an eyebrow. "I am curious, Holmes. You have never been so…..passionate."
Holmes tried to stand up but his knees buckled and he fell back the chair. Watson stood up and walked over to Holmes and held his friend. Holmes was in a terrible state compared to Watson.
"Please, do not stand."
Holmes gripped Watson's arms tightly and asked, "If you are so passionate about who it is, I shall tell you now."
Watson was listening attentively, waiting for Holmes to tell him but instead, Holmes pulled Watson closer to him and gently pressed his lips on Watson's. The doctor's eyes widened with surprise.
Holmes let go of Watson and looked elsewhere. He was really embarassed. The doctor's face reddened. He was surprised but he didn't hesitate when Holmes kissed him. It was as if this was the moment he had been waiting for in his life after living with this man for so many years.
"Now, do you understand why I have been so obsessed with the violin lately?" Holmes whispered against Watson's lips.
The doctor had never expected that the person whom Holmes was in love all the while was him. He was utterly speechless. He had no idea Holmes was composing a song for him. Just for him. Especially for him. He was surprised that Holmes had never admitted that he was homosexual.
"I…" the doctor said and he walked off to the table to collect the music sheets. He read and reread the lyrics a few times. He could feel Holmes eyeing his every movement. Watson grinned down at the sheets, his back facing Holmes. There was something more than that and Watson was certain that Holmes saw him more than just a good friend.
T H E E N D…
Completed. Ahhh finally….I can have my cuppa slimming tea. Ugh I hate the taste but for the sake of losing ma ugly belly I have to drink it. How do you find the story? I'd like to know.