A familiar shape darted passed the sitting room door on the heels of his words, and I immediately marked my page. He looked up at the movement, a half-cleaned pipe dangling between two fingers.

"I thought you said you had no more appointments today?"

"I do not." Tired from a long morning of patients after a late night, I had been planning to read the afternoon away, but I much preferred to catch that recalcitrant rabbit. Holmes' half-finished experiment had passed the interesting stage, and the creature had been taunting me for over a month.

"Then where are you going?" Silently exchanging my book for an empty journal answered his question, and he frowned. "You do not have to leave just because I planned to continue that experiment."

"I am not leaving because of your experiment," I said quickly. "I want to write a bit, and you know I had hoped to finish drafting that case before I leave for the publishing conference tomorrow. My writer's block means I have not even started."

He made no answer, though I felt his gaze follow me through the door. I did not understand why this worried him so much, but the problem had only grown in the last few days. Soon, he would stop waiting for me to answer and start investigating in earnest, and I would have to flee. I needed to find a way to help, to calm his fear without revealing my own before it came to that.

The only question was how. Protecting myself hardly mattered if I drove him away in the process, but shunning me because he saw the creatures was no improvement. How could I deflect his curiosity without losing his regard?

I could think of nothing. Perhaps I would ask my friend at the conference. He or someone he knew might have an idea of what I could do to prevent this from escalating, but for now, I had a rabbit to catch. The lock clicked behind me as a cotton tail disappeared beneath my bed.

"Get out of there."

The familiar chortle echoed from my lockbox. No wonder I could never find the creature. I would never be able to reach the lockbox without the animal disappearing on me.

Trickery might work where blunt attack had not. If I could lure it to the open floor, I would not have to dig beneath my bed with Holmes in the sitting room not ten feet below me. A carrot from my newest compartment provided the bait, and I sat heavily on the mattress, positioning myself on my stomach with my chin over the edge and the treat beneath me. My location would not matter if it thought I had fallen asleep watching.

I relaxed, slowly deepening my breathing as I let my eyes drift halfway shut. I had been more tired than I thought, if simply lying down rendered me this close to sleep, but I refused to drift off completely. I would only have one chance at this.

Rustling sounded after ten minutes, wondering at the silence. After fifteen, quiet hops came to investigate my snoring, then a nose peeked out at twenty. I let out another snore, sending the creature diving back under the bed.

The nose reemerged a moment later, carefully sniffing towards my bait. A bright eye studied me, then two ears drew free of the bed skirt to freeze in place.

I had never seen one quite this cautious, but it remained still for several long seconds to ensure I was not about to pounce. When I made no reaction, it slowly crept towards the treat. I let it have one bite.

"Gotcha!"

Indignant squeaks filled the air, but tiny protests would not convince me to loosen my grip. I was not hurting it, and I had tired of this chase weeks ago.

"Stop that," I said when it tried to wiggle free, though I took care to keep my voice too quiet for Holmes to hear. "I am in no mood for more games, and I caught you fairly. Today will be my last free afternoon for the next week."

Discontented grumbles vibrated the creature in my hands, but it stopped protesting quite as much. A short length of rope kept it next to me, and I settled at my desk, unable to restrain a fatigued but pleased grin when a ticklish foot started a torrent of ideas. From the first words to salient plot points throughout, I reveled in the ease that was a strong, mature story idea. A few hours would serve to create an acceptable first draft.

Unless the rabbit escaped, that is.

"Get back here!"

The words erupted far louder than they should have, but I could not help myself. My rope lay in tatters, and the creature easily dodged my lunge. Rattling metal announced it had reached its nest.

"I caught you fairly," I groused with one arm stretched beneath my bed. "Don't just give me half the story and run away."

A chuckle, followed by another raspberry, drifted to my ears, and I growled. Hours of writing had only strengthened my desire to sleep. I had already missed supper, and my train would leave London far too early in the morning. I had hoped to finish the first draft in the next couple of hours so I could go to bed.

"I told you," I tried again, now remembering to lower my voice. "I will not have time to write again for the next week. You may not even be able to find me. Do you really want to risk forgetting the story while waiting for me to return?"

There was no answer—movement or vocalization. I would never be able to reach it, so I sat on the floor instead.

"Why do you continually run from me?" I asked, leaning my aching head against the side of the mattress. "I have chased you almost three times longer than any of the others. Do you not want to be caught?"

The metal slightly distorted the derisive answer, and I could not cover my own amusement. "Then is it a problem with me?" I continued. "I could direct you to someone else—" A hiss cut off my words, and I chuckled, "or I could simply leave you alone. You can go live with the juveniles until you are ready."

Quiet growling replaced the hiss. I shrugged one shoulder. "Then I do not know what you want, and I am too tired to argue with you. Are you going to come out?"

The single snort adequately conveyed its opinion on that idea, and I pulled myself off the floor. There was no use arguing further, especially with how tired I was. The frustrating animal would simply have to wait until after my conference. Did I want to go to bed early, or did I want to join Holmes downstairs for an hour or two?

Bed, I decided as another yawn forced its way free. I had not slept well in weeks, only partially due to that creature's tendency to invade my dreams, and the pounding behind my eyes declared I was past my tolerance. The extra sleep would help more than even a pain reliever from the sitting room.

Barely taking the time to clear my desk and unlock my door, I double checked my bag then crawled under the covers. My last conscious thought hoped Holmes had not heard my exclamation.


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