Up in the Air

A/N: Heh. This was supposed to be a 221 B… but I never was very good at keeping a word limit. Enjoy, and leave a review please! Also, to everyone who has left a review so far, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! They make my day so much happier! I really appreciate that you think my work is good enough to deserve such wonderful praise!

The wind blew gently all around us, and the colored balloon floating above our heads offered pleasant shade. Holmes was meticulously referencing markers of London, which we now floated serenely over, against a large multicolored map. He had been so absorbed in his work he had barely noticed the spectacular views one can only experience up in the air. Now he folded away the map at last, and nodding toward the pilot of the balloon, we began to descend. He looked down over the rim of the basket one last time, but quickly ducked his head up again.

"Watson." I swiveled my head to gaze in wonder at Holmes, for a change had come over him, his voice tight and his eyes closed.

"What is it, Holmes?" He took a deep breath.

"Have we been this high the whole time?" I was confused at Holmes's reaction.

"Why, of course, Holmes. Hadn't you noticed?"

"I have been so absorbed in my work I had not. I thought it would not matter today, but apparently I was mistaken."

"Thought what wouldn't matter, Holmes?" He took another deep breath, like he was steeling himself for something.

"Watson, have I ever told you I have a bad head for heights?"

"Never. But, Holmes, you don't mean to say you went up in a hot air balloon in full knowledge you grow nervous at heights?"

"Not nervous, Watson. Jittery. Distracted. Anxious." He paused. "Frightened." It was a bit of a shock to find that my friend, level headed in the most dangerous situations, was scared of heights. But I quickly put aside the fact, for it did not matter at the moment. Now, my friend needed reassurance.

"Holmes, it's alright. We will be on firm ground once more in about ten minutes. Surely you will be ok until then?" Holmes nodded, and gave me a tight smile, which I returned.

"Just don't look down," I warned, but just as I said it his eyes flicked to the ground, and when he did not like what he saw, just as quickly shut them tight.

"How much farther, Watson?" I put my hand comfortingly on his arm.

"Not much farther. Just relax and we'll be down before you know it." It was a smooth descent, but about a hundred feet up a sudden wind buffeted the basket. Holmes immediately clutched at my arm, holding me in a bone-crushing grip. I gently chided him,

"Holmes, you're hurting me." He glanced at me quickly and muttered,

"Sorry." But though he did relax his grip, he did not let go of my arm until we had finally landed. Holmes was the first out of the basket, and again on land, his composure was once more the inscrutable mask I was so accustomed to. He looked at me and said with a perfectly straight face,

"Never let me do that again, Watson." I smiled as I replied,

"Of course not, Holmes." No more words passed between us of his momentary weakness, and we walked off arm in arm to our waiting coach.