Summary: Someone gave the doctor a poisoned cake when he had dinner with Holmes. Even though their fight, the evening turned out well. Then Watson got a small cake deliverd to his house some time after, was there really someone after him, or was it merly a joke by his old friend? (okay, I really suck at this, yeeeeeey. c_c )
Rating: K+
Pairings: None, just a litte angst in this one
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.

What lies beneath

By AnimeBride

Mello

Sherlock Holmes

Being bored was something the detective of Baker Street hated to be, and it was unfortunately something he easily got. Even though he now had to pay the whole rent alone he still found himself too restless for his own likening.

He had just finished a bunch of uninteresting cases, just so Mrs. Hudson finally would stop bothering him about payments and the cruelties of the world, and was finally back in Baker Street. Not that he cared much; it was just as mind-numbing as before.

Holmes had risen out of his drug-created dreams from the day before and an unfinished experiment became his occupation for the day; at least there was something he could still do.

He didn't even bother to look up from his papers as he heard the main door open. He already knew who it was, and that he was upset about something.

"Doctor Watson, I presume."

"You're awfully polite today."

"One might think." Holmes now turned to face his friend. Watson stood with his back straight, his overcoat folded over his left arm. A smile danced over his lips, a smile Holmes just couldn't resist. He too broke up in a light smile. "Ah, where are my manners; some whisky, old boy?"

"It's not even past five yet." The detective blinked slowly, how long time had really past since his last shot? Watson's clothes told him it was Sunday, as the other man never used his most expensive waistcoats when he was at work, only on his now rare visits to Baker Street. He sure never dared to use them when they lived together as there was a big chance they would get somewhat ruined.

"Tea then?"

"Pleasure." Watson took of his coat and hat, placing them on a footstool nearby, before sitting down in his old chair. Holmes quickly prepared a can of Earl Grey and then placed himself in the chair closest at hand. He poured the hot tea in silence, waiting for his friend to tell him what was on his heart. It was quite humorous actually.

"Holmes." The doctor finally said after a few careful sips of the hot drink.

"Yes?"

"Where exactly is Gladstone?" Holmes gave him a glance with wide eyes, not the question he had expected. Maybe the doctor wanted to chat a little before, which meant it was something serious.

"I believe Mrs. Hudson took him for a walk seventeen minutes ago. Why?"

"Thought I might as well ask. Cannot say I'm not worried about him."

"He's just fine." The detective smiled with a nod. He placed the cup he had been holding gently back on its plate. "He misses you though." He added with a small frown, like he was concerned. It was true though, their dog did miss Watson but it was nothing to be worried about.

"How do you know that?" Watson looked rather surprised, but mostly interested.

"He… he seems a little restless these days." Holmes answered slowly; he really hoped they would stick to the damn dog. The chance that Watson would visit more often would probably sink like a rock if they had another argument when he finally did.

"Too bad I missed him then."

"You can always come back another day."

"Of course." The other man replied with a smile at the corner of his lips and Holmes found himself returning the smile.

As their conversation continued with a light touch, Holmes started to wonder if his friend would ever tell him what troubled him. Watson sure made no intentions clear what so ever, yet his movement pattern told the detective something was bothering him. As they talked Holmes started to wonder what it could be, something to do with Gladstone perhaps? Though it was surely not about the dog, it was of course about Miss Morstan. It was always about her.

Frankly, Holmes could not understand why he had to marry her in the first place. Not that he had anything against his friend's happiness; it was her whom he did not like. Or rather, approved of. She could never make the doctor happy, not in the long run. She would never be able to understand him fully; they were too unlike and had lived too different lives. True be that she liked him, but she would never be able to love him for all his faults. Holmes was sure a part of Watson knew this, yet he married the girl. Why couldn't he turn his face from what the city thought and listen to his own happiness? He needed to stop caring so much about what others thought of him.

Even if the dear doctor's dilemma was because of his wife there was still something the detective wondered about. Something that had bugged him the very moment Watson had entered his room.

"There is a thing I cannot set my finger on."

"And what could that be?"

"Why do you have a small scent of blood on you, Watson?" The scent had first made him believe it was a regular working day, even though the smell form the clinic was missing. It was when he saw Watson that he understood the blood must come from the man himself.

"It's probably from the clinic."

"You don't work on Sundays."

"I am wearing the same waistcoat as yesterday, most likely why." Watson answered nonchalantly, brushing away non existing dust from his clothes. He probably whished he had not taken of his coat as his alibi was really bad. At least against Sherlock Holmes.

"Do not lie to me."

"I am not, you are just imagining things."

"Imagining? You know you can't fool me." Holmes wanted to laugh, since when did he make up facts? He could see how Watson's muscles tensed when he lied; he was like an open book to him.

"I am not lying!"

"Really, Watson, you should see how you tense up. "

"I'm going." Watson said shortly and stood up, turning away. Holmes quickly got up and grabbed his arm to prevent him from leaving. He opened his mouth to leave a comment how funny Watson looked when he tried his best to hide his lies, but his words got stuck in his throat as he saw his friend's grimace when he grabbed his arm. There was a moment of silence.

"You're hurt."

"It's just a mere scratch." Watson replied, avoiding the other man's eyes.

"No less an injury."

"Let me go." The doctor made an attempt to free his arm, but Holmes refused to let go. He dragged him closer instead.

"Show it to me." He tried to undo the button that were preventing him from sliding the sleeve up, as Watson struggled to get away.

"No, I am the doctor. Let go of my arm." The doctor tried to stop Holmes by grabbing his shirt with his free arm, keeping him on an arm's length away. It didn't take long before they both were wrestling, both too stubborn to give in.

"Not until you show it to me."

"Stop it!"

"Show me!"

"Holmes!" Watson cried and finally managed to push the other man off himself. They stood, both panting heavily, in silence.

"What happened?"

"I told you, it's just-"

"What happened, Watson?"

"The signboard for the bakery down at Fleet Street fell down. It was my own fault for not moving out of the way." Watson finally said, his voice now calm like it used to.

"You were directly under it as it fell." Holmes watched as his friend got dressed, his mind was already analysing the facts he had got from the whole visit. Watson didn't say anything till he was ready to go. He faced to door.

"Say hi to Gladstone from me, and Mrs. Hudson while you're at it." "Holmes, you did not happen to send…" his voice trailed off, leaving a slightly curious Holmes.

"Send you what, old boy?"

"Nothing. I just wanted to confirm something."

"Watson, you know I can tell from-"

"I know, Holmes. I know." Watson sighed and left, closing the door as he did.

Holmes blinked at the door. He blinked again, before quickly making his way to the window that was facing the street. Dr. Watson's was quickly walking away down there, away from Holmes. The detective looked at him while scratching the back of his head thoughtfully; he wondered if Watson would mind if he followed him, in a disguise of course. Well, he surely would, but then again he wouldn't have to find out about it.

As he carefully added his fake nose and thought of a suitable character, another thought crossed his mind. Watson would not get company for the day; the hotel above the bakery at Fleet Street would receive another guest.

He looked at his own reflection in the mirror. The cover was prefect, as always.

To be continued.

Author's Notes (hm, more like Mello's statements of randomness): Hola mis comrades! I'm actually not sure what to say right now, probably because I should be studying biology and my lines for the two plays I'm in, instead of watching Tropic Thunder. But it's sooooooooo funny. Robert Downey Jr. is amazing! Humhum what more? I watched Sherlock Holmes with my brother and father at the movies today, very nice! they both liked it, which made me happy. And I was dressed in my new waistcoat and suspenders, hohoh, I looked rather good, if one may say so. (I simply adore that fashion!)
Working on chapter three now, it's.. it's.. I don't know... angsty? A big part between Watson and Mary. But fear not, my friends, Holmes saves the chapter by being the wonderful man that he is... and fluff! Yeah, you heard me. I do hope people get that this will turn into a Holmes/Watson Watson/Holmes fiction? CAUSE IT WILL. They simply have to understand they can't quit each other, and deep down wants to make love like crazy, first. Nuff said.
Hahahah I really shouldn't say that I have nothing to say, because I always end up with endless randomness here. DON'T SAY YOU DON'T LIKE IT. or do you? D8

Thanks again to my wonderful beta-readers Danne and Sara, and to my new one: Natta! (who btw is my Holmes, check my Deviantart for more info)

And a big thanks to raven612 here on FF! You're such a nice person, waaaaah! -hugs-

A big YESYES to reviews, I love them! Please leave on before you go, pretty please? I promise to write more about our beloved detective and doctor if you do. And constructive criticism (or what it's called) is highly appreciated since I really want to get better at this! YEAH! -fighto-

THANK YOU FOR STOPPING BY! Wish you all a wonderful time until next time!