Day 2 Watson gets the credit from sirensbane
A/N: Thank you so much for all the feedback, especially Knightfury, who pointed out that the bees could forage in Regency Park. This is my first time trying to emulate the style of the original, so hopefully I haven't messed it up too badly. :)
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It was autumn, and the crisp air was turning colder by the day as I arrived on Baker Street that afternoon, thick wool coat folded under my arm. I had scarcely begun ascending the stairs when Mrs. Hudson stopped me short with a cry.
"Dr. Watson," said she, emerging from her kitchen in a flurry of aprons, flour from her baking speckling her wrists. "Thank goodness you've arrived. Mr. Holmes received a package this morning, and he's been going on about the bees ever since." The good lady paused, wringing her hands. "I fear he may set them all loose upstairs."
"Mrs. Hudson," I replied, giving her a sympathetic smile. "I will investigate this matter, and I am certain Holmes does not intend to set bees loose in the building."
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I entered the room some moments later to see the great detective himself sat on the edge of one armchair, and intently staring at a large wooden frame that rested on the table near the window. The wood was a rich mahogany colour, and instead of a painting, the frame housed a pane of glass on either side, and in the very center, an innumerable mass of bees ran back and forth across an expanse of comb.
"Ah, Watson, you've arrived," said Holmes. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes, that normally accompanied a case, as he stood and turned towards me.
"Holmes, you can't intend to keep these bees inside?" I asked, stepping as near as I dared to the writhing mass of insects.
The buzzing seemed to change in timbre as I approached, perhaps the insects saw me as an outsider, but were comfortable with Holmes, just as a dog might recognize a beloved master. Or perhaps they innately knew of my fears, just as sparrows tend to instinctively know which man harbors them good will instead of ill intentions.
"Why of course, Watson," said Holmes, resting one hand along the top of the wooden frame that divided the two panes of glass, clearly completely at ease with his proximity to the bees. "One would normally keep an observation hive indoors, in order to observe it at leisure." A smile flitted over his features as he said this, perhaps feeling some amusement at my obvious discomfort.
I sputtered indignantly. "You can't mean to keep them trapped indoors, Holmes! Will they not escape into the room eventually?"
"Heavens, no, Watson," he replied. He gestured at a length of tubing that I had failed to note previously. "They will have an entrance through the window, which will allow the bees to fly freely outdoors, while their hive is securely housed indoors." And indeed, the tubing stretched to the window, which was open a crack to allow the tubing to extend outdoors.
"And will the bees not harass passerbys on the street?" I asked, peering down at the cobblestones.
"The bees are quite docile," Holmes said, picking up his pipe. "And the elevation from the window ensures that their flight is already far above the street, further protecting them from accidentally colliding with Baker Street denizens below."
I huffed in defeat and sank into the far armchair.
"But don't worry, Watson, this is all your doing you know," he said with a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.
"How so?" I asked with trepidation.
"Why you were the one who suggested taking the case that cleared Mr Herbert William," Holmes said as he leaned back in his armchair and brought the pipe to his lips. "And you also implied that Mr. and Mrs William would be distraught if I refused their gifts. I must say, it was an excellent suggestion, Watson."
It was then that the case of several months ago came to the forefront of my mind. The gory corpse in a field, Mathilde and Herbert's gratitude, and most importantly, a buzzing of bees in the background. I leaned forward and let out a low groan, hoping fervently, that Mr. Williams had used very thick glass in his construction of the hive.