Hellooo everyone! Hope my American readers had a good Thanksgiving, and I hope everyone had a good weekend. Mine involved far too many boxes.
Guess who moves in less than a week? Me! Guess what starts in 3 days? December! (facepalm) My timing is atrocious.
Over 90% of my life is in a box somewhere, and my days are absolutely chaotic, but in lieu of returning to my regular updating schedule for the month of December, I am going to try to take part in the December challenge again. After the new year, I intend to resume something of a regular update schedule, so be sure to check back! :)
"Dance with me."
Quiet music drifted through the open window as a hand rested in mine, then a merry laugh became a bubbling compliment when I adroitly steered us around a stumbling couple. My partner seemed to flit through the air, never touching the ground despite the dance's complex steps.
"You are a wonderful dancer."
"Thank you." A twirl earned me another laugh. "As are you. Do you dance often?"
"Only to violins," was her grinning reply. "'Tis the only instrument capable of creating the tunes I so enjoy."
"I always preferred violas, but violins can be good, too, in their own way. I much prefer them singing instead of howling."
"Howling? How does a violin howl?"
"Trust me, my dear. A skilled player can make the strings screech and howl far easier than he can make them sing."
Something intruded on my dream, lilting through the air to replace the haze with a soft but clear cadence. I wanted to sink back into darkness, wanted to continue the relaxing dream, but the sound grew steadily louder. Despite my efforts, I soon stared blearily at the ceiling, not yet awake enough to recognize the sound. What was I hearing?
Music, I finally realized. Violin music, to be exact. Notes blended to create a familiar tune at a volume louder than should have been possible, and I rolled over to check my pocket watch. Had he found my gift already?
I blinked and looked again. Half past eight hardly qualified as "already," but it did explain why I felt more refreshed than I had in days. He was probably beginning to wonder if I planned to spend the day in bed.
Unable to go back to sleep, I pulled myself upright with a stretch, and a faint grin escaped when he drifted into one of my favorites. The spritely tune continued as I descended the stairs, though he glanced up when I entered the room.
"Your device is on the table," he said without pausing his song.
Not yet awake enough to talk, I nodded an acknowledgement and claimed a mug. Checking once to ensure it lacked body parts—and ignoring Holmes' corresponding scowl—I poured some coffee and helped myself to the bacon Holmes had left covered. Notes filled the room while I slowly woke.
"Did you sleep at all?" I asked after several minutes.
"Some," he said without looking up. The tune changed to one of his favorites. "Hopkins should have the brother in custody by now."
"The brother?" I repeated. "I thought the brother's things had been stolen."
"The sister broke into the home," he confirmed, still pretending more interest in his instrument than the conversation, "but only to steal back what the brother stole first. Their mother had given heirlooms to the daughter that the son wanted to sell. He broke into her house the night after they divided the property, and the courts would not listen to her."
"So she decided to steal it back herself," I finished, nodding. The brother had then involved the Yard in the hope of revenge. "Will she be arrested as well?"
He shook his head. "Hopkins agreed that she had not caused enough damage to warrant the 'breaking' portion of breaking and entering, and she can hardly be charged for gaining access to a house that is half hers."
"With what will they charge him?"
"Possession of stolen property," he replied simply. "So long after the first break-in, I do not have enough evidence to prove him a thief. He will not receive more than a year or two."
A bite prevented me from answering, and he changed the subject before I swallowed.
"Why was a piece of metal on my violin?"
"I was enjoying my early Christmas present." The song halted as he finally turned to face me, obviously bewildered at a present "for" me that I would place on his instrument. I hid a smirk in my cup. "You did say you wanted to know what I had purchased."
"You bought yourself a piece of metal to attach to my violin?"
"The metal was not my Christmas present," I corrected simply.
My grin widened at the incomprehension in his gaze, and he made no effort to hide his frustration when I did not continue. "Then what was?"
"A night's sleep." His frown reminded me that he did not realize he was being loud. "You are the only one who can think through that racket, Holmes, much less sleep. I warned you months ago that I would mute your violin. It simply took me a while to find one."
"That…item," he decided, "is made to silence an instrument?"
"It is," I confirmed. "It's called a 'mute,' and I'm surprised you have never heard of them. Did you never keep Mycroft awake all night?"
"My brother sleeps less than I," he said wryly. "and we usually practiced at the same times, though on opposite sides of the house." He paused, and the words gained a thread of remorse. "You were serious then?"
I rolled my eyes. "Of course I was serious, as was Mrs. Hudson. Why do you think we change neighbors so frequently?" Renewed confusion announced he had not noticed this either, and I released a faint laugh. My friend was the foremost observer in the world. Give him any case, any room, any person, and he could eventually piece together anything that had happened in the last week, but social niceties and interactions completely escaped him. If the neighbors never affected him directly, he would never care if the current family stayed for one month or fifty. "This family has been here for just under a year," I informed him, "which is over twice as long as any of the others so far."
He did not answer for a moment. "They leave because of me?"
"Usually," I replied instead of asking what about that bothered him so much. He had never cared about a stranger's opinion before. "Can you blame them? Even music enthusiasts do not appreciate feline banshees at three in the morning. Especially for the fourth night in a row."
He said nothing, staring through the floor. The intense concentration suggested he was applying the neighbors' actions to someone else, but after so many years, we both knew Mrs. Hudson was unlikely to evict him for this. When he showed no intention of voicing his thoughts, I finally changed the topic.
"If I leave the mute down here, will you use it?"
He visibly pulled himself to the present to give me a hesitant nod. Not every time, the gesture said, but some. That was better than nothing, and a gentle toss landed the mute in his violin case on the other side of the room.
"How long did it take you to notice?"
"I heard it the moment I started playing," he said immediately, only partially concealing his irritation.
That was not what I had asked, and besides, he would have woken me before eight if that had been the case. "Holmes."
He scowled, but I refused to budge, raising an eyebrow as I waited for the accurate answer. He finally relented with a faint sigh. "I started looking for it after I telegrammed Hopkins," he admitted. "I could hear the notes well enough, and you know how I can be when I use the notes to think."
Yes, I did. Volume did not matter when he could hear it well enough to use, and he would have quickly lost himself in the noise. The tendency was yet another thing that I could never reveal we had in common. I had been able to lose myself in the notes at one time as well, but Maiwand had ended any hope of returning to my own instrument. I quickly covered my burst of longing.
"So the next time you gripe about Yarders unable to see past the end of their nose…"
A growl cut off the words, and I grinned around my coffee cup.
"Seriously, though," I tried again. He had not yet fully answered my question. "How long did it take you to find it?"
"Not long," was the reply. "You could only have added something to the bridge."
That was true, but the words buried an acknowledgement that I had camouflaged it well. My grin only widened further when he tried to glare away my amusement. I decided not to press the point.
"Why did you wake me?" I asked as I poured another cup of coffee. "Do you have a case?"
He shook his head. "Lestrade plans to come later this morning, but I was not trying to wake you."
I knew better than to believe that. When using the instrument to pass the time, his normal playlist did not entail songs we both enjoyed, but I did not press him on this, either. Despite his apparent preoccupation with his instrument, he had not hidden the many glances since I entered, and I rarely slept so late. The music could have been his way of making sure yesterday's fatigue had not become today's illness.
He would never admit it if so, and he resumed playing when I did not ask another question. Ranging from Bach to Vivaldi, he tied several together and improvised his own, but the songs grew quieter when I took a book and my coffee to my chair. Whether an apology for the sleepless nights or simply for waking me this morning I had no idea, but I appreciated the quiet.
Perhaps a bit too much. Lestrade failed to hide his amusement when his quiet arrival woke me from a sound sleep.
Hope you enjoyed! and don't forget to drop a review :) Each one makes me grin even if I don't get a chance to reply