A Study in Slime Revisited
Original Characters by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
Based upon Smoke Hearts with Mechanical Parts; A Study in Slime, by LaClarity at Wordpress
Part 6
* Hiding in the Chintz * Holmes is intimidated* Holmes is Interrupted * The Doctor is Needed *
Holmes and I made an odd tableau. I - wan and pained from my surgery, leaning forward on the settee with fists clenched and knuckles white with strain; he - straight-backed and tense, looking for all the world as if I were some terrible creature ready to spring at him. It was laughable.
My gaze did not waver from his. I willed him to finally give in to my request for the truth and show me what monstrous modifications had been effected upon his person. No matter my reaction, I had to know. Holmes must have realized my determination, and his lips tightened.
His hands slowly moved to his waistcoat and he began to unfasten the shining buttons. In any other circumstances, I might have enjoyed the sight of Holmes removing his clothing for me. But not like this. I'd had fantasies about undressing Holmes, but never in such excruciating circumstances. I swallowed in discomfort, and his hands stilled.
"Doctor, perhaps – perhaps you are not well enough for this. Your last reaction to my anomalies was – "
"To hell with your delaying, Holmes!" I barked. My nerves were stretched to snapping. Further delay could not be brooked. "Why are you so damned reluctant? You could tell Mrs. Hudson about your – your appendages! Why not me?"
He turned from me toward the window embrasure, and clutched at the floral curtains. In contrast to his tense demeanour, his voice was cool. "Mrs. Hudson is not in as fragile a state as you are, Doctor."
"Bollocks!" I spat, and he half-pivoted to face me at my sharp tone. "If you can't or won't expose yourself to me, then pack up your things and get the hell out! Or better yet, just leave and I'll send your things on!" Briefly one part of my mind wondered how I would get on at Baker Street without Holmes' half the rent, but I ruthlessly suppressed the thought.
He closed his eyes and leaned his shoulder against the wall, pressing the side of his head into the curtains. His hands dropped and hung limply at his sides. "As you wish then, Doctor."
There was an interminable pause, while I waited. His eyes slitted open and he looked sidelong at me.
"Well?" He seemed to be waiting for me to say something.
"Well, what?" I asked. "Holmes, if this is another attempt to deter me... "
Holmes craned his head around to look over his shoulder, and his face darkened. Was he embarrassed? "Ah. Your pardon, Doctor. Look more closely, I will not approach."
I did, staring at what little I could see of his back, half-turned as he was. Was there a movement? No... wait... yes, the floral pattern printed on the black chintz seemed to shift. The silhouette of an octopod arm seemed to waver in and out of focus, as the flowers slowly writhed on its surface. A second silhouette slid down, half-hidden behind his leg. Against the dark curtain and the black fabric of Holmes' trousers, I could scarcely trace the shape. The tip reached around and twined around his ankle, as if shy of my wide-eyed stare.
There was a noise in my head, as if of distant howls or roaring. I quickly shook my head to dispel it, and swallowed thickly. My heart pounded. "How... ?" I began, before my voice dried up. Holmes grimaced.
"Protective chromaticism, Doctor. The appendages change colour to blend in and hide. Apatetic protection is an instinctive reaction in Cephalopoda when threatened, and being that my... limbs seem to have a mind of their own at times – well, intimation was a factor in the reaction."
I gaped, and brushed aside this absurdity. I intimidated Holmes? Impossible. "No, Holmes, that was not what I meant to ask."
He waited, and I tried again, gesturing helplessly. "No. I mean – How do you bear it?"
His mouth twisted slightly, and he looked over his shoulder again briefly. A third arm wound out to the window embrasure and swiftly twined around his silver cigarette case. In the bright light of the late morning, I could see that it was smooth of texture on top, tapering to a flexible tip, and lined on its underside with round cups. It curved back and brought the case to Holmes' right hand. He took out a cigarette with a pretence of ease, and tapped it a few times.
"Doctor Watson, I could ask the same thing of you. How do you bear it?"
Before I could ponder the full meaning of his question, the jangling of a bell below made me start. Holmes' head shot up, alarm crossing his features, and he quickly replaced the cigarette in the case. He passed tit back to an appendage which carefully laid it on the window ledge. Downstairs a confusion of voices could be heard, and then footsteps began ascending. Holmes' appendages retracted towards his body, flattening out as they disappeared behind his back to wrap around him beneath his shirt. His fingers flew over his waistcoat buttons, refastening the last one just as there came a quick knock at our door. Without further preamble, Inspector Hopkins flung open the door and entered in a state of high excitement.
"By God, Hopkins!" burst out Holmes, glaring. "Can you not wait to be invited in?"
"Mr. Holmes! Sir! A constable just flagged me as I was coming to see you, and gave me a message. There's another case! I am assisting Inspector Gregson, and so I thought..." He pulled up abruptly at the sight of me seated on the settee, and then grinned. "Doctor Watson! I am glad to see you are up and about... only... "
He looked from me to Holmes and back again. Then to Holmes' complete astonishment, he leapt forward, grasped my good right arm and tried to tug me up. "Doctor Watson, you are just the man I need! We could use a medical man! Will you come?"
"Have a care, Inspector!" came Holmes' voice, both alarmed and amused. "He's only just been released from the hospital."
But I was already rising, responding to the urgency in Inspector Hopkins' voice. Turning to my desk I pulled out my somewhat dusty medical bag from beneath. A furrow appeared between Holmes' brows as he watched me. "Inspector, do you really require the Doctor on this case?"
Inspector Hopkins gazed at both of us earnestly. "Oh yes, Mr. Holmes. Absolutely.
"You see, the victim is still alive."