I'm back! Finally moved and (mostly) unpacked, and the desire to post has become an itch I can no longer ignore. My updates may be a bit sporadic for the next week or so, but I intend to get back into my normal 3 days a week (or more) schedule soon enough :)
"Are you sure you don't want me to come?"
He kept his attention on his packing, one hand brushing the questions—direct and hinted—aside. "I told you yesterday that this is not a case. I am just researching soil deposits. You would have nothing to do."
Except simply be. With him. Outside of London. Not alone. I had enjoyed the last week, but I could not tell him that. My book hid my expression well enough.
"When did you say you'll be back?"
"A week," he replied carelessly. Keen eyes never glanced at me as he squinted into the late afternoon sunlight streaming through the window. "Maybe two, but I doubt I will need that long. I would not go at all except the London libraries lent all their books to an archaeologist."
And said archaeologist had a bad habit of hoarding books. I knew that just as I knew that he did not want me to go. He did not need to tell me why. At least he had promised to return.
Eventually.
"Do you want me to forward telegrams?"
Rapid movements paused to consider that. "No," he decided, to my relief. "I will not be gone long enough to miss anything important."
Good. That provided further proof that he intended to return. I could handle a silent flat for a few days with the assurance that it would not be permanent. Just because I never needed a break from him did not mean Holmes wanted me around all the time. He probably looked forward to the time alone, if not necessarily the trip to get there. My friend had always hated traveling, hated being away from London, but I had done a poor job at managing my time this last week. He did not need to say as much for me to see that I had forced my presence. Most of this trip likely served as a break from me.
No matter. He had promised to return, so I could not have erred too greatly. I would simply be more careful.
Though I still could not resist one last attempt. "Wire me if you decide you want help." You know I have no plans, so I will be available.
A nod acknowledged my words, but he disappeared through the door with barely a farewell, on his way to the next train north and a week of solitude. I kept my attention firmly on my book. He would be back.
I hoped. Barely a year after Holmes' return, I still could not be sure when he wanted company and when he wanted privacy, but I could not imagine him leaving permanently without at least forwarding his telegrams. He was far more likely to ask me to leave than risk a move costing him a case. The entire country and most of the continent knew his Baker Street address by now, and he would not give up his work to get rid of me. He had not even done that during the three years after Switzerland, merely using Moriarty's web as a reason to disappear for a while.
A long while, and I had no wish to repeat anything similar. Much better to have a few stolen hours here and there than risk pushing him away again, which meant I needed to set another time limit, something to prevent me from growing greedy once more. How long could I chance?
Entire days were obviously out of the question. That doubled—at minimum—good sense, but he had indicated that two to three hours made me leave in the middle of something important. He had not yet negated the relief I had clearly seen the day I dared to follow him to the Yard, so I need not limit myself to only a couple of cases a week. What made a good middle ground that would avoid pressing my luck while also letting the day's events reach a stopping point?
About half a day, I decided. Maybe as much as six or seven hours, but I left the exact number for when Holmes returned. If I limited my presence to a few hours at a stretch, I should be safe, and I could always watch for hints that he wanted more time alone. A few hours were better than nothing.
Though it would not help me now, with the flat empty. Mrs. Hudson's sister had asked for help today, and a thick silence quickly settled in Holmes' absence. The paperboy hawked his latest headline on the next corner. A cabbie pushed his horse much too fast. Two children ran screaming past the window. I closed the window.
"A week. Maybe two. I am just doing research…"
Which only let my thoughts grow louder. He could have asked for help. Would have, at one time. Before Switzerland, a research trip meant I found something to read while he studied, went for food when mealtime arrived and he could not leave, and mediated between him and the librarian when he grew too excited to keep quiet. I had prevented his research from cutting short several times. He had never not wanted me to come.
But then, neither had I abandoned him or made him avoid me. I finished a page without remembering anything I had read and started back at the beginning.
"I will not be gone long enough to miss anything important."
That was accurate enough for a short trip. A boxing match did not matter more than his most recent interest—no matter how much he had talked about it those first few days. I would not mind skipping that.
I had wanted to join him for the university concert next week, however, but such a hope undoubtedly fell under "greedy." I did not need to see a concert, with or without him. Except to check on Arthur, I did not need to leave the flat at all. Perhaps I could pass the week reading, lost in another world where I had not forced my friend to leave the city just to get some time without me nearby.
Or not. I reached the end of the page again with no idea what it said. The novel landed on my end table to let me scan the room. If I could not read, I would have to find another way to spend what little remained of this day. I had no interest in food, which meant I did not need to worry about supper. None of my other novels caught my eye. I had not yet built enough of a patient base to have rounds. What could I do to pass the evening? Anything?
No. I finally stacked several books next to the settee, stoked the fire, and claimed a blanket. I could sleep, read, or think, but no matter what I ended up doing, at least I would be physically comfortable. I could not say as much for a train ride.
Or so I told myself.
Hope you enjoyed! As always, feedback is always greatly appreciated :)
Huge thanks to those have reviewed in recent days!
MHC1987, try looking up your local noise ordinance laws and harassment laws. Depending on your location and whether you own or rent, they might be trespassing or some other provable crime in addition to the noise irritation.