Okay, so I saw Sherlock Holmes twice in the same week, and I thought that this was just a story waiting to happen. I'm not gifted with old English-style writing, so forgive me.
And I know it's normally told from Watson's point of view, but this is the opposite. This shows Holmes' feelings, his thoughts, etc. I thought someone should write as Holmes, and maybe that person should be me. I'm not sure exactly how long after the film this takes place, so use your imagination.
But I hope everyone enjoys the story.
Happy New Year!
"What?" I looked at my companion, lines of horror etched onto my face. "What did you say?" The doctor swallowed and determinedly looked away from me.
"Holmes-" he tried to say, but then broke off, shaking his head. I frowned. Was Dr. John Watson surrendering to me, an out-of-work detective? I examined him closely. His normally neat appearance was absent, his shirt ruffled and his coat wrinkled. He glared at me. "Did you honestly think-"
"I thought you would have enough sense, Watson," said I, looking out the window. It was a dreary day. Perfect day to stay indoors. Not like I would've done anything anyway. Perfect day to do what I'm best at doing…bothering the other occupants of Baker Street and experimenting.
"I'm married," the dear doctor said. "And now-"
"You come all the way over here to bring the news that your wife will have a child," said I, aware that I was only angering my friend more. "And you…expect me to be happy for you?" Watson looked flustered.
"Well…erm…yes," said he, staring at me with incredulity and (was that hurt?) "Yes, Holmes, I do."
"I won't give you the satisfaction," I muttered through gritted teeth. I heard the door to my bedroom open and I smelled the faint aroma of warm breakfast tea. Mrs. Hudson had heard us arguing. She smiled warmly at Watson and looked disapprovingly at me. She set the tray in front of me.
"Would you two stop bickering for a second?" she asked desperately. "Others do live here, you know, Mr. Holmes." I continue to be oblivious as to why she bothers. The dear lady should have learned long ago that we will never stop. Because that's who we are. Holmes and Watson…brothers not by blood but by bond. But Mrs. Hudson was always fond of Watson. Everyone's always fond of Watson. "Well, congratulations to you and Mary, doctor. The best of luck to both of you."
"Thank you, Mrs. Hudson," he said, a pointed glare aimed at me. I slightly raised my hands in surrender. She patted his arm and left, shaking her head exasperatedly; leaving me to wonder what is was I did this time. Why? Well, isn't it always me? The good doctor came and sat beside me. He sighed heavily. "Look…Holmes…I wish I could say that I'm sorry."
"Can't you?" I said quietly, not caring if he caught my few words. But as I should have expected, he did, because he glared at me. Again.
"No, I can't," said he. "My wife…Mary…is having a baby. If you're not…I've given up trying to argue with you." He stood up and walked towards the door. I made no move to get up. He would not leave. Not yet. I pulled a blanket over my head. I heard him turn around, and I could imagine his eyes boring into the back of my skull. "Holmes…perhaps it's time you grew up." I groaned inwardly and with great reluctance, pulled the blanket away.
"What do you request of me, Watson?" I asked, staring into my friend's hardened face. It slightly broke and I could see a hint of a smile on his face. I rubbed my forehead. "Why did you really bother to stop by?"
"Mary doesn't approve of this…but…" My ears perked up. Was the dear doctor, my closest friend, defying the bond of Holy Matrimony? Most intriguing…
"I am listening with my ears wide open, old friend." The corners of his mouth twisted, forming a more evident smile.
"I…"
"Yes?"
"Holmes…I wish for you to be the godfather." I gaped at him. Had he forgotten me as much as it seemed? Did he not remember who I was? Who in their sane mind would name me as a godfather? I would pity the poor child.
"Watson-" For once in my life (excluding Irene Adler) my extensive vocabulary failed me. What was I to say?
"There's no way you're getting out of this one," he whispered with a smile. "Are you to say you're not honored, my friend?"
"Not that I'm not honored, my dear Watson," said I, "No, not at all. But you see…I'm rather horrible with children."
"You'll improve." And before I could say any words of argument, the doctor have vanished past the door. I stared at the open door for a time, realizing slowly how tired I was. I lay down and pulled the blanket over my head once again. But, for the longest time, my eyes remained wide open. And with all my intellect…with all the thoughts that could possibly be going through my head…there was only one. It had finally come to me…to stay…what Watson's visit had been about.
He wanted me to be his child's godfather.
Touching, right? Just kidding. The next chapter will hopefully be up soon (as soon as I write it).
Remember to review, it makes me want to write more.
Thanks in advance,
Jason