Hello again all my lovely readers, I do apologise that this has taken so long, I've been a touch uninspired recently, but you'll be glad to know i'm back in action. So as always I'd like to thank you all for reading, favouriting, subscribing and special thanks to the lovely TinkerbellXO -(I'm glad you think she's like that ... its exactly what I was going for with Bonnie) and SPEEDIE22 for your reviews! please keep reviews coming ... I need to know if this story is going down with you all ... Your feedback is like an addiction ha ha. :) Enjoy Guys!
"Holmes!" Bellowed Lestrade as the trio entered his office, "Took you bloody long enough don't you think?" The sallow, mousy faced inspector stopped in his tracks, his voice fading from his lips seeing Bonnie step out from behind the great detective and her brother. "Oh, Milady, I do apologise, I did not see you there." Bonnie smirked and walked forward taking Lestrade's offered hand, and dipping into a half curtsey. "Never the mind Mr Lestrade. I hear your techniques are somewhat a little better than your manner." Lestrade sputtered, attempting to come up with an answer as Bonnie turned on her heel, grinning mischievously at Holmes and Watson, who were both suppressing their laughs at the situation before them. "Yes, well, … Take a seat miss Watson." Bonnie did as she was asked. "So for what contemptible reason have you summoned our presence?" Holmes asked nonchalantly, cleaning his precious clay pipe with a handkerchief from his pocket. Lestrade huffed and sat back behind his desk, a scowl on his face. "We have had some development in evidence of Miss Watson here's case." he claimed, shuffling through a pile of papers and thin leather folders. "Dr Philips has found a bruised hand print below the victim's petticoats, he thought you might like to take a look at it, as he is familiar with your … frankly unorthodox methods. He will have the body in his practice this evening, when he has finished seeing all of his patients, so you can … uh … view it." Holmes nodded now tapping his pipe on the edge of a book case before peering into its clay bowl. "Mmm," He murmured, putting the stem in his mouth and lighting the tobacco inside, "Then that is what we shall do, Come along Watson … and Miss Watson" He used Bonnie's name as almost an after thought, as he stopped in the doorway, sticking his elbow out as an offering to the small brunette, which she readily took, casting her eyes up to his hard set face, his big dark eyes looking at her from the corners of his eyes and his lips turning up into a soft smile. The trio left the big wooden building of Scotland Yard, the bright sunlight hitting their unaccustomed bodies. "Well, doesn't it appear to be a pleasing day." Holmes said inhaling deeply as they wandered their way through the busy streets. "Should we stop for tea Holmes? The Carrion maybe? They do a splendid rose tea, I know Bonnie will love."
"I feel much safer with you here, Bonnie dear." Mrs Hudson cooed fussing around Bonnie as she unpacked her trunks, dresses and bonnets strewn around where the young Miss Watson sat cross legged on the living room floor of 221b Baker street. "Would you like a cup of tea while you're sorting that dear? I would wait until the good doctor and that infernal man return, but heaven knows when that is going to be." Bonnie chuckled and nodded a thank you to the older woman as she bustled out of the room and into the kitchen.
"The hand print is approximately ten centimetres across, and the length of the longest finger is nine centimetres, showing the hands are large, and belonging to a man, one who uses his hands often with small instruments of either wood or metal, see the indentations in the palm Watson?" Holmes explained pointing out the lighter patches of bruise on the pale, cold flesh of Maria's leg. Watson bent closer to the exposed limb, mumbling an agreement with Holmes' statement. "This of course shows us our murderer is a large man, not necessarily in width, but certainly his height, six foot at least." Watson huffed and shook his head frustrated with the detective "How could you possibly know that Holmes?" Holmes smirked and pulled Maria's dress back down over her damaged ankle. "There is a simple mathematical calculation between the size of a person's hands and feet in correlation to their height. I won't bore you with the details my dear friend." Watson just nodded and placed his hat back on his head, heading to the door, "Very well Holmes. It is late and I'd rather not leave my sister too late. I thank you Dr Philips." Holmes too, donned his own coat and hat "yes thank you, this information has been invaluable." The grey haired surgeon nodded, his kind face creasing "A pleasure as always Mr Holmes. I'm glad I could be of some assistance." Watson huffed and dipped his head, frustrated. "Holmes, Hurry up! Its starting to rain out here." Holmes smirked and slowed his pace "Coming Mother Hen."
"So Holmes, what do we have on our deduction board?" Watson asked as he sat down heavily in his favourite armchair, a tumbler of whisky clenched tightly in his left hand. Holmes lit his pipe and scrubbed a hand over his stubbly chin, "We have the time of death for the unfortunate Mrs Carter, The first victim, if we are to include Constable Wicker was murdered not only by the man we are hunting, but hired help, as the fraying of the rope does indicates a man of small and weak stature, however both the bruised hand and foot print by the bodies clearly denote that the man we are after is of taller stature. He wears round toed military style boots, navy, to be precise and has clear indentations in his palm from working with small metal or wooden instruments. The depth of the lacerations to Mrs Carter's body, also suggests a man of great strength, confirming our suspicions that if we are to include the death of Constable Wicker, it was achieved using the help of a man smaller and somewhat weaker than himself." Watson nodded, watching at Holmes sat at his desk, writing and pinning scraps of paper to his deduction board. A loud thud and a feminine squeak from the room above them made both men look up from what they were doing, getting to their feet as fast as they could. "Watson stay here, it is unlikely, but should anything be wrong with Miss Watson, I fear you would find the sight very difficult to handle. If there is any reason I will call." Holmes said with a weak smile, pushing a frantic looking Watson back into his chair.
Bonnie cursed and attempted to climb gracefully back on to her bed, instead of the chair she had been standing on by the door just mere minutes before hand, trying to hear what the two men below were saying. Her knee throbbed, where she had fallen from her listening position, the grazed skin sending a thin layer of blood through the skirt of her white nighty. The light, running footsteps on the stairs, followed by the room's door banging open announced Holmes' arrival. Bonnie sheepishly looked up at him from under her long eyelashes, like a child getting caught doing something she shouldn't be doing. Holmes lowered his gun and smirked. "If you wanted to listen in Bonnie, you could have joined us in the living room." Bonnie smiled and bowed her head and walked towards him. "John clearly disapproves of me wanting to be part of the case. So I thought I'd keep a low profile. I cant stand to see John angry with me." Holmes tucked his gun into the top of his trousers and cupped her face in his hand as she stopped in front of him, her hands placed on his chest, her fingers playing with the open sides of his black waistcoat. "Mmm" he grumbled in response, just bending forward and cautiously placing a kiss into her loose tangle of hair. "Watson and I have gone over all we can tonight anyway. Maybe you should sleep." Bonnie sighed and buried her head further into his chest inhaling the mix of tobacco and whisky that was his unmistakable scent. "Come on, lets get you into bed Miss Watson, I'll send you're brother in to patch up your knee in a while." Bonnie nodded and accepted Sherlock's outstretched elbow, as he lead her over to the bed. "Good Night Miss Watson." He whispered placing a kiss gently on her cheek. Giggling Bonnie caught his retreating face in her hands and brought his lips back down onto hers in a passionate kiss. Holmes pulled away, his eyes wide and struggling for breath. He hovered in front of her, pausing as if having an inner battle, his big dark eyes glazing over momentarily, his momentary glitch didn't last for long as he leant forward a pressed his lips to hers in a hasty, hot kiss. Without a word he pulled away, leaving her lips tingling and layered with his taste, he stopped in the doorway, head bowed and tipped slightly to the right so he could see her over his shoulder, "Good night Bonnie. Sleep well, we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow." Bonnie's lips twitched up into a small smile, as he closed the door behind him.
"The woman is fine. She fell from her bed in a nightmare. Her knee is bleeding if you feel the need to check it." The detective declared to the anxious looking doctor as he strolled back into the lounge. "The Woman? Holmes she has a name. Wait … A nightmare, is she alright?" Holmes nodded, rolling his eyes at the reprimand, "She is well, I have sent her back to bed, but I doubt she's succumbed to sleep as of yet." Watson watched his companion curiously as the dark haired detective pulled on his coat and bowler hat, "I will see to her Holmes, but where are you going? And at this late hour too." Holmes simply smirked and buttoned his coat, "No need to panic mother hen. I am going to find young Wiggins and the irregulars." and without so much as a 'goodbye' the front door slammed behind him, leaving Watson with a disgruntled look plastered across his face.
"Evenin' Mr 'olmes. Wotcha afta?" The little red haired street urchin called hopping to his feet in the doorway he had been sitting in minutes before. "Good Evening Wiggins, I have a few things I need you and the irregulars to do. I need you to Deliver these letters for me, names and addresses are on the envelopes. I need them done quickly, deliver them and report back to me at Baker Street for 8 sharp tomorrow morning." The young boy nodded and grabbed the sealed envelopes from Holmes, trying not to leave grubby fingerprints on the clean pages. "You got it Mr 'olmes. H-eight sharp." Holmes watched as Wiggins took off into the darkened street, the set of enveloped gripped tightly in on of his dirty fists.