JWP #18:
Intriguing phrase: Finish this phrase, or be inspired by it: The first - and only - time Holmes ever saw Watson pick up a gun in his bedroom was also the day…
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Builds heavily off Courage. You may not fully understand this unless you have read Courage
"Holmes!"
The call faintly carried from the house to the meadow where Holmes was observing his bees. He barely noticed it, caught up in the notes he was taking. One of his hives had a new queen.
"Holmes!"
That one was louder, and he glanced up from his notebook, wondering what was going on.
"What is it?" he called back.
No answer, and he tried again. "What is it, Watson?"
Silence was his only reply, and he frowned, looking toward the cottage. They frequently called to each other over the grounds, seeing no reason to walk between rooms or out to the meadow when yelling sufficed, but Watson never called only to fall silent when answered. Holmes put down the notebook and hurried across the silent meadow.
"Watson?" he asked as he came to the cottage, reaching out a hand to open the front door.
The unmistakable cocking of a revolver answered him, and he halted with his hand on the knob, remembering a conversation related to war long ago. Had something triggered memories of war? Just because he could not hear the fighting did not mean a lack of triggers. If Watson thought he was in battle, Holmes should not barge through the front door.
"Watson?" he asked through the door
Silence answered for a long moment, but before he could backtrack to the window he had left open on the other side of the cottage, Watson's voice carried again from the front room, sounding as if he was struggling to force the words out.
"You said you like them," Watson ground out with an air of and I have no idea why, "so get rid of this thing before I do!"
Holmes relaxed, opening the door as the words registered. There was only one thing that Watson could mean.
As the door opened, he spotted Watson first, standing near the armchairs and pointing the revolver at the kitchen. Following Watson's aim, he poked his head around the door to see a grass snake exploring the kitchen, completely disregarding Watson's presence and slowly working its way toward the sitting room.
A faint tremor entered Watson's voice as Holmes hurried forward. "It came up through the hole in the floorboards." The barrel twitched to indicate the corner of the kitchen. "Over there."
The barrel did not lift its deadly aim on the snake until Holmes pinned the reptile by the head, and he was aware of the weapon landing on the end table as he carried the snake to the woods where it belonged. It was only the matter of a couple of minutes to safely deposit the grass snake in the woods behind the house, and he reentered the cottage to find Watson sitting heavily in his armchair and pointedly avoiding eye contact.
"Alright, Watson?"
His friend nodded, but made no further answer, and Holmes noticed the fists clenched on the arm rests.
"Thank you for not shooting it."
A faint laugh escaped, and Watson finally glanced up. "You are lucky it was in the kitchen."
Holmes smirked, pouring a couple of brandies from the decanter on the mantle. Watson had always despised snakes. The only time Holmes had ever seen Watson pull a gun in his bedroom had been in the first few years at Baker Street, when a snake had escaped a local handler and found their flat. Watson had shot it off the wall, firing over Holmes' head. Snakes were not typically a problem in London, but when Watson had finally joined him in Sussex, Holmes had realized just how many snakes there were in the area. It had become his job to take care of the handful of snakes that had found their cottage, though there had been a few that Watson had found first, with a variety of results.
"Grass snakes are helpful," he insisted, mostly to get a reaction. Watson was still much too tense. "They eat rodents."
He had expected a comment about how cats could do that, but Watson only shivered, staying quiet as he sipped the brandy.
"You handled that one much better than the last time."
Watson smirked without looking up from his glass. "I unexpectedly found the last one in the middle of the floor. I watched this one explore the hole in the floorboards before coming up. The warning made the difference."
"We will get someone from town to patch that hole," he promised.
"And check that no more live beneath the house."
Holmes nodded. "And check that no more live beneath the house." He paused for a moment, noticing how tense his friend still was, before he asked, "Join me outside?"
Watson hesitated. He had originally claimed he wanted a day inside, but his gaze strayed back to the kitchen as he suppressed a shiver. He nodded, following Holmes out to the meadow to settle with a book.
Trying to prevent a sleepless night, Holmes attempted to distract Watson with the bees, telling him all about the new queen he had found, but his tactic met with minimal success. Watson still refused to come near the hives, and there was only so much Holmes could do with Watson twenty feet away.