Thanks to Sigerson, Iara, Aura, and Poptate, black rose… did I leave anyone out? Anyway, this Watson angle is getting interesting, so if anyone has a suggestion for how far it should go… hit the grey button. I've appreciated all your feedback so far…
Hugs and fuzzies all round… and for those of you who like buiscuits… I think Watson makes a good batch now and again…
Anyway, here we go. There is a bit more of Dierdre here, and I'm hoping I get her character ok!
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Deirdre didn't care for hospitals. Sure, the chair that she was curled up in wasn't too uncomfortable, and the old magazines and such laying on the table were good for a laugh. The holoviz turned to the news station wasn't so bad either. Nor were the instant food concentrates she got out of the vending machine she plunked a few credits in. No, it was just the IDEA of being in one.
Perhaps it had something to do with a door she'd shut on her past. Something to do with someone who was no longer a presence in her life. Others had mums to go to. She had none. Or else she couldn't remember having one for the last six years. Nobody to run home to, or ask or fight with about wearing makeup or such.
A father she had. An understanding relaxed sort of father. Who had to deal with his little girl slowly reaching womanhood? But he didn't insist she do "girl things'. Rather she was left to explore her own meanings for what it meant to be a teenager. He worked evenings, and often she was left with Wiggens and Tennyson for company. It was hard keeping hold of the apartment in new London, and so often she'd bring in some extra credits selling the tour maps and watches and other items for pocket money, and for other things to help Dad make ends meet. Dad was constantly on call, fixing droids when they went bust in their local apartment section, or on call for the Domesticon service to other outlying neighborhoods. He'd often see homes that were larger then ten of their two bedroom apartments put together. He had many stories to tell about how the rich and middle class, and even the not so rich, just making ends meet sort lived. Always an entertaining tale for when he came home around breakfast time. Weekends were the best, and they were often spending at least one day out in the workshop he'd made in the apartment basement. Playing with various electronics and spares. Maybe that's why she trusted Watson so.
The fall of heavy footsteps snapped her out of her reverie, and she felt a wave of relief wash over her.
"Oh Dr. Watson I'm so glad you're here," Deirdre said as she glanced up from the magazine she was thumbing through. It was at least two years old.
"Is the Inspector…" Watson asked, but Deirdre had almost read what it would be from the look on his eleastomasked face.
"She's gonna be ok, but her son's at school and she's going to have him find out sooner or later…" she blurted out quickly.
"Ah yes, her son," Watson murmured. "He's away at his father's this week thankfully but when he comes back that will be most distressing…"
"Did you bring her some flowers?" asked Deirdre. She saw that Watson was holding something wrapped in green and silver plastic at his right hip. They seemed soft and delicate compared to the glaring oranges and greens of the waiting room plastic puff chairs, and brown gold of the synthetic carpet underfoot. Nestled in their wrapper, the pinks, purples and mauves had their own small palate that would draw you out of the coldness of the hospital, even though they tried to make it warm. There was a long hard night spent on a couch like the char she stood up from. When Daddy had brought her after the night when Mom didn't come home…
"I did think chrysanthemums were proper for someone who is in hospital. I would have selected roses, but somehow I recall she preferred them," Watson said as he held up the floral arrangement. "I understand Holmes and Lestrade are on their way… but where are Wiggens and Tennyson?"
She snapped out of her trip down memory lane when she heard his voice, and sighed visibly. Watson glanced at her, and then at the bouquet, unsure as he scratched his head. Deirdre shoved her hands in her pockets and shifted her weight form one shoe to the other. "Wiggens jest called me. He's goin to Baker Street, and Wiggens is staying with him, jest to make sure he's okay, like," Deirdre said. "They're doing work on Langer now… but since I wasn't family they wouldn't let me back to see her…"
"Confound it," Watson mumbled in a low tone. "I should have realized…"
"I 'ope they'll let you in," she said softly, touching Watson's arm. "I mean yer not family… really… but… she did tell them that you were coming, and that you were to be considered someone to visit since her family's not here…"
"Langer had informed me both her parents were in the United States," said Watson. "And I feel a certain responsibility in contacting them… I only hope Holmes and Lestrade are on their way…"
Deirdre flopping down into a chair, and exhaled, puffing her bangs momentarily out of her face. "She's got a kid my age, eh?"
"Janosh is 13," said Watson as he lowered himself to sit next to her, carefully setting the bouquet across his knees. "According to what she has revealed to me…"
"Have you ever met him?" Deirdre asked Watson, half wondering what the Inspector's family life was like in comparison to another that seemed so familiar. Another child with a single parent, someone to possibly relate to? Except both his parents were alive. Major difference, but sometimes…
"I have seen him in the department when it was take your child to work day," said Watson with a look of amusement. "He seemed most interested in his mother's workplace… he doesn't live with her unfortunately. Her ex husband has custody… and she only sees him every other weekend… due to the nature of her work… which is totally unlike what seems fair and above board… it seems logical the child should be with his mother… at the risk of sounding Victorian…"
"Well you ARE the livin incarnation of Dr. Watson," she nudged him. "So why not?"
"Well technically yes, but the living part… seems to be debatable, depending on whom you ask," Watson responded. Deirdre had cheered up a bit, speaking to him. The Irregulars looked up to him like a sort of mother hen, since he assisted them with their homework, and made them tea and biscuits, and sometimes breakfast. Holmes was more aloof, but Watson seemed more personable. Ironic since he was the robot! He always exuded some level of comfort, something she had come to rely upon, like Tennyson and Wiggens. And now he was moving in a direction that seemed natural to her, but unnatural to most considering what he was. Yet why not, if he truly had feelings and emotions like any human being. Heck, she liked Langer. Who couldn't be drawn to someone who smiled and had those twinkling eyes and an upbeat way of laughing at dreary things? Who didn't think of her as a 'kid' like Lestrade did, and seemed to value what she had to say. Granted she hardly knew Langer, and yet she felt a sort of connection to her. As if she were the sort of woman she'd want HER to be. If she were still here…. Lestrade was more like the older sister, who wanted her kid sister to stay at home. Langer was also a mom type. Maybe that's why…
"Seems you are all living right enough t' me," Deirdre snorted. "I mean you have feelin's… you worry when one of us is hurt, and you sure worry about Mr. 'Olmes and the Inspector… and Ms. Langer…"
"I do have great concern, yes," Watson said automatically. "But I do not consume food as you humans do… nor am I capable of reproduction in the same manner…"
"You could build another robot, and that'd be reproducing, right?" Deirdre smiled. "And as for the rest, you power yourself up. We burn food 'n our bodies, what's the diff between that n' electricity for fuel? An there's something else yer fergettin'."
"I'm most puzzled what point you are attempting to make," Watson said, fingering his 'beard' absently.
"Go on, I've seen the way you look at 'er… the other Inspector. You'd 'ave to be blind not to notice it, like."
"And what precisely do you mean?"
"You like 'er don'tcha?" Deirdre whispered with a grin on her face. "Going all worried and 'ero like. An she asked fer YOU, not anyone else when she was bein wheeled in…"
"Asked for me?" Watson said in disbelief. "Well I never…"
"That's right, she likes ya, and I think you like 'er…" Deirdre chuckled. "Don't try t' deny it, like…"
"You've been entirely too obsessed by the possibility of a relationship betwixt Lestrade and Holmes that you are seeing things that are not entirely founded," Watson laughed. "I am a robot. Why on EARTH would a human want that sort of involvement with my lot?"
"Why wouldn't she?" asked Deirdre. "Answer me that, Dr. Watson. I mean you ARE a gentl'men an all, and you 'ave a lot to offer a lady if y' know what I mean, right? An' she IS available…"
"My word, I suppose I AM infatuated with her," Watson said slowly, the more he thought about it. "But what ever shall I do about it?"
"Go on!" Deirdre laughed the usual sparkle in her light blue eyes. "You of all of us should know, since yer other reincarnation was married!"
"Well, the logical thing to do would be to ask her what her feelings are on the matter, and approach the subject with tact and delicacy. If the feelings are returned, then perhaps…" Watson trailed off. Before Deirdre could respond, the door opened, and a white-coated medical worker peeked out.
"You're Doctor Watson, right?" she asked.
"Why yes… is there any word on the inspector?" asked Watson as he stood up abruptly, clutching the bouquet in hand.
"She's going to be fine… although she had a nasty third degree burn. She'll have difficulty using that leg for a long while. We've applied synthetic skin and muscle, and the tissue regeneration is underway."
"What a relief, but how long will she be required to stay?" asked Watson as he strode over.
"We're going to suggest she stay here overnight for observation. I'm afraid she won't have full mobility on her own for quite a while. Although there are a few options…"
"You mean she can't walk again?" Deirdre asked.
"Well not quite," said the doctor. "She has the option of using exobraces or a hoverchair…"
"She'll be like Tennyson then," Deirdre said with a sigh of relief. "But will they let her work again?"
"She is on a case," said Watson. "But I would hope she would not insist on overdoing it…"
"It will all depend on her condition in the next 24 hours."
"Can we see 'er?" asked Deirdre.
"She's resting, and I'm afraid I can only let family in to see her, although considering you are one of her co workers," she looked at Watson. "Perhaps you could go in with Doctor Watson."
"Thanks," said Deirdre. "I am right enough worried!"
"We've got her in a private room now, just follow me…" said the doctor. She walked towards the elevators off the lobby, with Watson and Deirdre in tow. It was already half past three, and they rode silently up the towers of the modern medical center. A few minutes later they were led into the small neat room, smelling of alcohol and sterile air.
"Pongs like a dentist's office," Deirdre wrinkled her nose.
They saw a curtain being pulled back, and on the bed with an IV attached to her wrist, and monitors on her body lay Langer. She was sitting up in bed; a sheet pulled up to her waist. At sight of them, her face lit into a big smile, although she looked paler then usual. That green gown didn't help much.
"Ehh, there you are… I was wondering when you two would get here," she said as she held her arms out to them. The nurse had to hold her back on the bed.
"Now we JUST got that dermapatch on!" the Doctor scolded. "I've brought you some visitors. But try to remember you ARE supposed to be resting!"
"A compudroid?" the nurse was about to ask, but shut her mouth as she walked away and handed the charts to the doctor on their computer pad.
"I'm so glad you're all right!" Deirdre said as she squeezed Langer's hand, and Langer pulled her into a hug. Deirdre let her, and lay her head momentarily on Langer's chest, rubbing her shoulders.
"I share her relief," Watson said as he carried the flowers over, and held them in front of him, smiling pleasantly. "I have brought something to brighten up this space…"
"Aww how sweet," Langer smiled as she took the bouquet and fingered the petals. "My favorite flowers… we'll have to put them right 'ere…"
She moved aside the arrangement sent over by Grayson, and put them in a pitcher of water. Deirdre gave Watson a shove and coughed, and he knew what she was getting at. Langer had rested her hand against his arm, and Watson naturally extended his hand to see if she would take it. Her hand slid into his readily, and he felt her warm fingers giving his metallic ones a squeeze. Moving closer to the bed, he put his other hand on the railing, and kept his hand around hers. He had seen many people draw relief from physical contact, and apparently Dierdre's theory seemed to hold some water after all.
"I am extremely glad to see you are recuperating well," Watson said pleasantly, and Deirdre could see the sparkle in Inspector Langer's eyes as she looked up at him, and continued to hold his robotic hand. "I felt most horrible about the whole affair…"
"You're 'er 'ero, Dr. Watson, you are," Deirdre slapped him on the back.
"Well I suppose I am, much to my surprise," Watson said with a slight smile that could be construed as slight embarrassment. "But I assure you Ill do all in my power to make certain you have a full recovery…"
"Isn't that nice," Langer smiled, her whole face lighting up. "I've got my own fan club. So did you download those journals of those runaways?"
"You never stop for a moment do ya?" Deirdre shook her head. "Jest like Inspector Lestrade you are!"
"I had done so, yes," Watson said. "And it turned out to be quite disturbing. There was no sign of any ethics programming whatsoever. Just a set of hardwired instructions that were in a code that was triple encrypted…"
"No sign of who programmed them?' Langer asked.
"Tennyson is working to crack that now as we speak," Watson said. "I've been running my own diagnostics, and it seems that whoever directed them did a good job of covering their tracks. The only DNA I found on them was ours of course, and those of Powell, Donovan and Calvin. And Dr. Morrison…"
"That's crazy," Deirdre said.
"How much you want to bet they were the ones who took her?" asked Langer.
"You don't think she's behind it do ya?" Deirdre asked.
"Heavens no!" Watson said emphatically. "Dr. Morrison does not fit the profile. If anyone it may be that Donovan chap… he seems to have all the right motives…"
"What about Dr. Calvin?" asked Langer. "She seemed sort of cold if you ask me…"
"So we got four people, and no answers, eh?" Deirdre muttered. "If you ask ME we should be chekin out this Powell bloke."
"True," said Watson. "We don't know much about him. He seems to be a dark horse so far…"
"Which is precisely WHY we must bring him into the light, my dear Watson," came Holmes voice.
"Mister 'Olmes!" Deirdre smiled as she went over to him. Langer smiled as she saw Lestrade rush over and hold out her arms.
"Oh Zed I was so worried," Lestrade exclaimed as she gave Langer a big hug, reaching over the metal rails of the hospital bed to do so. Langer momentarily let go of Watson's hand to return the hug and rub her friend's shoulders.
"I'm okay, girlie, thanks to Dr. Watson here…" she said as they separated.
"I heard the news, and I agree its most disconcerting," Sherlock Holmes said as he arrived in the hospital waiting room. "But how entirely fortunate that Watson here was looking after you… I'm quite pleased no further harm was done…?"
"You call a third degree burn no further harm?" Lestrade narrowed her eyes. "Excuse ME but that's pretty major!"
"She could have been killed," said Holmes slowly. "If not for Watson…"
"Just WHAT are robots who are SUPPSED to be security guards doing overriding Scotland Yard control failsafe?" Lestrade said as she rested her hands on her hips.
"Apparently SOMEONE doesn't want us sticking our oar in," Watson said grimly. "And are going to great lengths to cover up a multitude of sins…"
"True, but why?" asked Holmes. "I'm intrigued as to your theory of Calvin and Powell…"
"Donovan seems the obvious choice," said Watson. "After all, he did express distaste for robots…"
"True, but he sees they have their purpose…" said Holmes. "And whoever programmed those security droids had access to Scotland Yard protocols, and the ability to override them…"
"That's pretty bad," Lestrade shook her head. "You don't think someone in the Yard…"
"I hope not, for all our sakes," said Holmes.
"Why wouldn't it be Donovan?" asked Watson. "He has the right motives…"
"But we don't know enough about Powell or Calvin, and to make the right hypothesis we must have all available data…" Holmes said. "And there is another disturbing outcome… which has everything to do with you, Inspector Langer…"
"You mean they might come after me, since I survived the attack?" she asked grimly.
"That is a distinct possibility," said Holmes. "And one we must not overlook…"
"Let them try and take her," said Watson as he slid his hand into Langer's. "I would be most certain to give them what for… if they would take any rash actions…"
"But even so, with all the innocent people in this hospital," said Langer. "Which leads me to ask, what is our next move…"
"Sorry but YOUR next move is staying PUT," said Lestrade firmly. "You8've done enough!"
"I am afraid I agree with her," said Watson. "I hesitate to put you in harms way again…"
"I want to get those monsters for this. If they are capable of this… there is no telling what they'd next do," Langer said forcefully. Watson gently gave her hand a squeeze, and shook his head.
"I would hate to have something worse happen to you," Watson said. "It would cause me no end of worry, and your colleagues no end of grief…"
"That may be so," said Langer. "But how many of you know about droids? Other then Watson here? And I AM the AI/robotics expert for new Scotland Yard…"
"She is correct," said Holmes. "We may have need of her skills…"
"Now WAIT a minute Holmes," said Lestrade firmly. "She can't put herself in harm's way again…"
"It's my decision," Langer broke in. "I'm an officer of the law. And I think we should wait to see what the doctor has to sway…"
"What did she say?" asked Holmes.
"Two days recovery, with therapy and assistance needed for walking on her own," said Watson. "Warranting either exobraces or a hoverchair…"
"Which means you're not in shape to go chasing around," Lestrade snapped.
"Tennyson is," said Deirdre slowly.
"She's right. He exposes himself to danger, nepradva li?" asked Langer.
"Tennyson is accustomed to his condition, whilst you are not," said Watson firmly. "I won't hear of it..."
"Watson it's sweet of you, but it is my decision to make. And if these monsters are capable of such acts, they may try to go to great lengths to make sure I don't discuss what I discovered…" said Langer. "Many innocent people at this hospital might be at risk if I don't leave soon…"
"Now come on!" Lestrade rolled her eyes.
"If they were willing to kill to stop us from looking in that factory," said Langer as she stared at Lestrade with a look that chilled their spines.
"I had not considered that," Watson said with concern. "Those robots have no morals whatsoever…"
"And if they ARE connected in any way with the association…" said Deirdre.
"We must be extremely careful then. How long will it take for you to be discharged, Inspector Langer?" asked Holmes.
"They have to fit me for exobraces. And then I can go home," she said.
"Now just a minute you are NOT leaving here"! Lestrade snapped.
"It's not for you to say. You aren't my supervising officer. Technically I outrank you," said Langer slowly.
"She's right there," Watson said. "Which is why I suggest a compromise. Perhaps she could be taken home and looked after by one of us, to protect her… and if there is any investigating to be done, she could do it in relative safety as Tennyson is ought to do, behind a terminal…"
"Well that's NOT what I had in mind, but it sounds better than waiting here," said Langer with a sigh. "But who will stay with me?"
"Perhaps I would be suited to that task," said Watson. "I do have scanners and the requisite knowledge to handle most contingencies…"
"There you go, what do ya say?" asked Deirdre.
"It sounds most satisfactory to me," said Holmes. "Quite gallant of you, Watson. But if she does go home, she could be in danger…"
"Well there is Baker Street, but it wouldn't be proper," said Watson slowly.
"She can stay with me, jeez," Lestrade rolled her eyes. "Who'd think to look at MY place for her?"
"True. That seems like an adequate solution," said Holmes. "Now that that's been settled."
"Are you SURE you want to leave here?" asked Lestrade. "I mean we COULD have someone guard…"
"And draw attention to the fact I'm here?" asked Langer. "No thank you. I want to do SOMETHING to stop them…"
"And you shall, as long as you promise not to expose yourself to unnecessary risks. Do I have your word, Inspector Langer?" Holmes asked. "And that you will remain in the supervision and care of Watson till you are capable of…"
"I think that'd work," said Langer as she involuntarily gave Watson's hand a squeeze.
"Very well," Watson nodded. "But what will you and Lestrade be up to?"
"I suggest we all head for Baker Street and plan our next move. And might I suggest that you remain here with the inspector whilst she acclimates herself to whatever means of assistance she will require… and join us forthwith," Holmes suggested.
"I think you're nuts," Lestrade sighed. "But I know better than to go against all of you, zed it…"
"And that my dear Lestrade, is what makes this job so interesting," Holmes smirked.
"Better watch what ya say, or she'll pound you," Deirdre laughed.
"I didn't ask for any… oh Zed, forget it," Lestrade flushed bright red when Deirdre shot her a grin, and Langer and she exchanged a knowing wink. Lestrade shook her head and sighed, thrusting her thumbs into her belt loops and tapping her foot.
***
