A/n: Remember the scarlet fever arc I had going like five years ago? Ok, not really. Well anyway I feel like a moron because I had this chapter all done, basically, and for some reason I just left it on my hard drive. Um, well here it is at last. There will be one more chapter after this to wrap the story up. Good gravy...XD
"Holmes! Wash your hands before you eat!"
"You've made me do so twice already. Now sit down and quit that infernal pacing."
"But did you use soap? Lots of soap?"
"On my honor. Are you planning on eating?"
"I think your neck is getting red--in fact I'm sure it is. Open your mouth."
"My tongue is coated in salad, not red dots, I assure you. Watson, really, your worry is for naught—we were both exceptionally careful to avoid contamination. And even supposing I was ill, I wouldn't have symptoms so soon. Your mind is playing tricks on you, old fellow."
"I know you're right, Holmes…but I can't help it. I can't think straight. I'm—too exhausted to sleep, but too tired to stay awake. I don't know what to do with myself!"
I lay down my fork and turned to face him with practiced drama, although my mischievous smile nearly faltered as I saw him gripping the armchair to hold himself up. "What if I told you I was planning on paying both our way after dinner at Northumberland?"
"Are you being serious?"
"Quite. I thought that would cheer you! Now do eat something."
He joined me at the table with a sigh. "Holmes, nothing could make me happier right now than the thought of going to the Bath."