Hello All! heres the newest chapter! hope you like it. As always I'd like to thank everyone who subscribed or favourited my story ... im glad you like it. And special thanks to SPEEDIE22, Mz. Padfoot14, watergoddesskasey and Lady Wesker for reviewing, your feedback helps me greatly!
Disclaimer: I don't known Sherlock Holmes or Dr Watson ... unfortunatly
Holmes sighed heavily as he leaned against the intricately carved bedpost, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, shirt hanging open and his braces draped by his hips. He let his eyes rest on the pale face of the girl sleeping on the bed. He took a slow drag on his pipe, the glowing embers turning a brighter shade of orange. He remained standing by her side, his eyes never leaving her limp body until, her nose twitched and her eyelids started to flutter, signalling that she was waking up. With another long, drawn out sigh, Holmes retreated to an arm chair in the corner of the darkened room, the blackness swallowing up his figure.
Bonnie scrunched her eyes and nose up and flexed her fingers as she felt herself wake up, her head cushioned in a thin pillow an a ratty woollen blanket covering her feet. It took a while once she opened her big dark eyes, to grow accustomed to the gloominess of the room. Sitting up slowly, she placed her bare feet onto the cold wood of the floor, her petite body shuddering with a chill, and she rubbed her arms in an attempt to develop some warmth into her limbs. The wind blew and buffeted, making the window panes rattle in their fastenings, and the curtains wave in the draft. Bonnie stood from the bed and made her way over to the big gold mirror above the fireplace, and gazed into her own face, her pale reflection reminding her painfully of a ghost, and her long dark curls blew loosely around her face giving her a wild appearance. A warm orange glow from the corner of the room caught her eye and she turned to face the unknown entity, her hands balling defensively by her sides.
"You have nothing to fear, Miss Watson; you are in the company of friends." Holmes said standing from his chair, and walking to the window, and tugged the curtains back and looking broodingly out onto the grimy streets below. Bonnie giggled and felt herself relax as she watched the detective's moonlit silhouette, "Friends … yet you still insist on calling me 'Miss Watson' I would much prefer you to call me Bonnie." Sherlock's shoulders bobbed up and down as he chuckled, and shook his head, his unruly curls swishing with his movements. "I hardly think using your name in pubic is proper, but I see no reason why I cannot use it in personal quarters … Bonnie." He used her name as an almost after thought, making a small, warm smile slide onto her pretty pink lips. "Thank you Mr Holmes" she whispered edging closer to him until she stood a mere foot away from his broad back, his boy heat radiating off onto her skin. "Sherlock … if we're using names in personal quarters." He said, his voice like velvet, placing his now extinguished pipe onto a small ebony table, before leisurely turning to face her. A gasp rose in her throat and she bit her bottom lip as he observed the purplish bruise high on his cheekbone and the nasty looking gouge on his own lip, the wounds marring his rugged but beautiful face. His breath ruffled her hair and she brought a dainty hand up to his face, her fingers tracing over his injuries, making his eyes close and a barely audible guttural purr left his throat, "What happened to your face Sherlock?" The detective lazily opened his dark eyes to once again gaze into hers, "I was distracted … it rarely happens, I can assure you." Bonnie nodded and looked at the floor, her dark eyelashes shadowing on the pale flesh of her cheeks, "I am unharmed. It's only a few bruises." Holmes placed two strong fingers below Bonnie's chin, twisting her face back up to look at him, his calloused thumb grazing gently on the underside of her jaw, "I have been through far worse." Bonnie opened her mouth to say something in reply when the pair heard limping footsteps coming down the hall outside the door, making them retreat to a safe distance just as the door swung open with a click.
"Ah, Bonnie dear, you're up. Are you well?" Asked Watson as he dropped his black medical bag by the door, swiftly running over to Bonnie and checking her heart beat with a stethoscope. "Well, your heart beat is back to normal, but you're still looking pale, maybe you should sit down dear." Bonnie shook her head frustrated, but sat back on the bed anyway, her head was spinning a little but she thought not from my little fainting incident unconsciously her eyes flicked up to Sherlock who was wincing at the light that had been introduced to the room by Watson lighting the oil lamps. "On the matter of those letters, Holmes and I have decided that you might not be safe at 221b, as you're … erm … admirer seems to have discovered that you are staying there, so we've decided you are to stay here, in Holmes' apartment." Bonnie furrowed her eyebrows, her brain working overtime, the process obviously being shown on her face, because Holmes turned to face her, his big dark eyes burning into hers, "I use this apartment when I box downstairs." Watson sat beside his sister, talking her hand gently in his, "We will take it in turns, spending days with you here until the case is solved or it is safe for you to return to 221b. Holmes and I will just go and get your things, so make yourself comfortable, we will return shortly." And with that the two men departed from the room, leaving Bonnie to lie back on the mattress and run her hands over her face, her mind full of the danger she had found herself in.
Maria Carter bustled to her front door, her expensive high heels clicking on the wood of her hallway floor. Sighing through her journey, she mumbled annoyed that she had let both her maids take a week off; she had become accustomed to the expensive and lavish life of luxury that meant she never had to lift a finger, she just had to sit and look beautiful at her husband's work festivities. Pulling the door open, she looked around the supposedly empty street, "Uh, Hello?" she asked, stepping one small foot onto the pavement outside, her eyes searching the darkness of the street for any sign of the visitor. When no answer came, she sighed once again and pouted her pretty pink lips, turning to close the door and make her way back into the parlour, but before she could take two steps she felt the cold metal of a blade pressed to the hollow of her neck and a big, calloused hand clamped firmly over her mouth. Using a hard shove the figure turned Maria to face him, her eyes red and streaming with tears. Her eyes widened as she recognised the man holding her captive, "you!" she struggled to whisper through her tears, earning a hard backhanded slap that sliced her lip drawing blood. "Mrs Maria Carter, well, well haven't you gone up market? Being spoiled by that husband of yours? You always did want to live the luxury life didn't you? Couldn't settle for being a hum drum country girl, like my beautiful Miss Bonnie?" Maria was shaking with fear, but felt a wave of courage boiling inside her, "Bonnie is happy now … leave her alone … she never loved you." The man's face contorted with anger at her last comment and snarled quickly slicing the blade across her pale throat, blood gurgled in her throat and dripped down the side of her chin. Her eyes glazed over as her body crumpled to the floor. Her murderer wiped his hands on the bottom of Maria's pink velvet dress, and slammed the heavy wooden front door on his way out.
"Holmes will stay with you for the first few days, until I can get through all of my appointments. Now, I have to take my leave, I have an early appointment with Colonel Rodgers in the morning. Good night Bonnie dear, stay safe." Watson whispered, wrapping his arms gently around his sister and pressing a soft kiss into her hairline, before departing from the attic apartment, leaving Bonnie and Holmes alone in the dimly lit rooms.