"Close your eyes."
I rolled them first and then closed them with a sigh. "What now, Holmes?"
"Hold out your hands."
I obeyed, and felt something cold and thin dropped into them. "My flute!" I cried, opening my eyes again.
It must have been three weeks after Miss Basil had been arrested.Everything at the theater had been cleaned up. I explained to Vicky what had happened, and even that we had suspected her! She laughed a little about that, and said that she just liked to play the piano and sing, which was normal enough. She also told me that she wanted to buy a new flute, and she wanted to see what kind I had - that was why she had picked up my case.
Unfortunately, neither Holmes nor I were present for the concert at the Theater. We had both been bedridden for a week - I managed to pass my head cold to Holmes. He deserved it, I told him, smirking. That's what you get for kissing me.
But now we were sitting on the couch in Holmes' living room, babysitting. Colleen was already in bed, though, and we didn't expect his parents back for hours.
I ran my fingers down my flute. "Oh, Holmes, you saved it! It's not even dented!" I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Holmes chuckled and then leaned in for another kiss.
"Boo-boo?" Somebody called. We straightened hurridly.
"What is it, Colleen?" Holmes asked the top of the stairs. Colleen began thumping down the steps, dragging her blanket and sucking on her thumb. Rascal looked up from his doggie bed and thumped his tail.
"Boo-boo," Colleen said, "I wanna drink of water."
I turned to Holmes. "Boo-boo?" I asked, barely supressing a snort. Holmes sighed and waved an annoyed hand in my face. "Boo-boo!" I began to cry with laughter.
Now Holmes rolled his eyes and took his little sister's hand. "C'mon, I'll get you a drink of water."
I waited at the bottom of the stairs until Holmes came back.
"Don't!" Holmes said, pointing an accusatory finger in my face. "Say! It!"
"Okay," I said, smirking and looking at the floor. "Whatever you say, Boo-boo."
Holmes groaned and started to walk back to the living room when we heard fists pounding on the door.
"Sherlock!" someone was screaming. "Sherlock Holmes, you've got to help me!"
Holmes started and then opened the door. He was practically bowled over by a sobbing Marianne. "Sherlock!" she screamed, clutching at his arms, "Help me, help me, please! My father... my father!" With a groan, she fell against him, unconscious.
Holmes and I exchanged one astonished glance before we dragged her to the couch.
I had thought our troubles were finally over, but when your best friend is Sherlock Holmes, the next adventure is right around the corner.
THE END.
I rolled them first and then closed them with a sigh. "What now, Holmes?"
"Hold out your hands."
I obeyed, and felt something cold and thin dropped into them. "My flute!" I cried, opening my eyes again.
It must have been three weeks after Miss Basil had been arrested.Everything at the theater had been cleaned up. I explained to Vicky what had happened, and even that we had suspected her! She laughed a little about that, and said that she just liked to play the piano and sing, which was normal enough. She also told me that she wanted to buy a new flute, and she wanted to see what kind I had - that was why she had picked up my case.
Unfortunately, neither Holmes nor I were present for the concert at the Theater. We had both been bedridden for a week - I managed to pass my head cold to Holmes. He deserved it, I told him, smirking. That's what you get for kissing me.
But now we were sitting on the couch in Holmes' living room, babysitting. Colleen was already in bed, though, and we didn't expect his parents back for hours.
I ran my fingers down my flute. "Oh, Holmes, you saved it! It's not even dented!" I kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you! Thank you so much!"
Holmes chuckled and then leaned in for another kiss.
"Boo-boo?" Somebody called. We straightened hurridly.
"What is it, Colleen?" Holmes asked the top of the stairs. Colleen began thumping down the steps, dragging her blanket and sucking on her thumb. Rascal looked up from his doggie bed and thumped his tail.
"Boo-boo," Colleen said, "I wanna drink of water."
I turned to Holmes. "Boo-boo?" I asked, barely supressing a snort. Holmes sighed and waved an annoyed hand in my face. "Boo-boo!" I began to cry with laughter.
Now Holmes rolled his eyes and took his little sister's hand. "C'mon, I'll get you a drink of water."
I waited at the bottom of the stairs until Holmes came back.
"Don't!" Holmes said, pointing an accusatory finger in my face. "Say! It!"
"Okay," I said, smirking and looking at the floor. "Whatever you say, Boo-boo."
Holmes groaned and started to walk back to the living room when we heard fists pounding on the door.
"Sherlock!" someone was screaming. "Sherlock Holmes, you've got to help me!"
Holmes started and then opened the door. He was practically bowled over by a sobbing Marianne. "Sherlock!" she screamed, clutching at his arms, "Help me, help me, please! My father... my father!" With a groan, she fell against him, unconscious.
Holmes and I exchanged one astonished glance before we dragged her to the couch.
I had thought our troubles were finally over, but when your best friend is Sherlock Holmes, the next adventure is right around the corner.
THE END.
