Sorry I'm a bit late, KCS, but this is for you! I'm not quite sure what's going on, but I would just like to say thank you for reviewing my fics, and that you are a fantastic writer.

Just changing the meme a little bit…

Disclaimer - I do not own Holmes or Watson.

Love Interest

"Well, that was interesting anyway…"

"Interesting?!" Holmes turned to me, his face livid as we (well he, actually) stormed through the lobby of the Lyceum theatre.

Some years ago, that look would have had me shrinking backwards in dismay, but now, twenty years after our first acquaintance, I had rather become used to steeling myself against them. "Well, at least there was a large audience…"

Holmes growled, and walked outside to get into one of the hansom cabs outside the theatre. I got in beside him, and he sat in a sulky silence for a moment, before exploding with; "A large audience. Wonderful! Now the whole of London will see me on stage mooning about after that Woman!" His voice reached a crescendo, and I sent an apologetic look to the cab driver, who looked rather annoyed that he seemed to have picked up a fare including a man quickly working himself into a raging fury.

"Holmes." I said, soothingly. "Come on. Calm down."

"And that is not the worst of it. Now I know!"

"You know? You know what?"

"Why…" he lowered his voice, and I saw in his eyes a semblance of utter fear. "I keep being followed."

"Followed?" I could not keep the concern out of my voice.

I was about to volunteer to leave my practice for a few days to act as bodyguard to him, when he whispered "By women…"

"Women?" my voice faltered at the look on his face. I coughed, trying to hide the laughter which I felt bubbling to the surface, and then could not hold it back anymore. I burst into gales of laughter, earning myself an elbow in the ribs, and a look that could quite possibly maim from Sherlock Holmes.

"Well, I am gratified, Watson, that you seem to think my plight amusing…"

"Oh, come on, Holmes. You do realise that every gentleman in this fair city would gladly step into your shoes at this precise moment in time?"

"They are welcome to it. Last week, a gaggle of females started to chase me down the street. When I reached home, one of them forced her way in and proceeded to propose marriage to me."

I snorted.

"Watson," Holmes said "If you are going to laugh at me, I shall have the cabbie stop, and you can get out and walk."

"Oh, come on, Holmes. You don't want to do that. Your many admirers may be waiting at our door, and you might need me to help you fight through the crowds…"

I got another elbow in the ribs for my trouble, before a wicked smile crossed his face. "Well, actually, old man, a great deal of these women have informed me that it is you who, I quote, 'makes their hearts sing'. Your writings, I have been informed, show that you are a wonderfully kind, romantic person, who needs someone to take care of you."

I blanched. "Oh, dear heaven, Holmes. You do not think they will be waiting for us at Baker Street?"

"Count on it, my friend. Mrs Hudson has even had a couple of the more suitable ones in for tea."

I let out a yelp of fright, and said "Simpson's, Holmes?"

"Absolutely. By the time we get back, most of our admirers should be in bed. What do you think about getting out of the city for a while, Watson?"

"I think that would be a good idea."

Holmes nodded, shouted up at the driver a change of destination, and sighed angrily. "Hounded out of our own home, for heavens sake. I shall be writing a very angry letter to Master Gillette in the morning, Watson. I am a detective, not a love interest!"