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A man walked into an old house that had fallen into disrepair and was now vacant. He walked down the dusty stairs until he came to a heavy wooden door. He knocked and a voice issued forth from it, "Who is it?" it asked gruffly.
"Grant it is me Walter, I brought the stuff you needed." The man called Reggie spoke to the door. The door swung open to reveal a dank cellar, it had but one window that the sun was streaming through. The sunlight hit the center of the room where two chairs were positioned; in them were a man and a woman. Both looked to be sleeping at first glance, but upon closer inspection the man had a bruise from being hit and the woman had the same markings. Walter strode over to the pair to make certain that they were tied to the chairs tightly. Grant, the man at the door shook his head at the captives.
"They ain't getting up anytime soon. I had to hit them him with a candlestick to get him out. That bitch punched me and kicked me in the tender regions, she would have gotten away if the boss hadn't shown up. He shut her up right and then got me to tie them up here until he comes again. Tell you what Walter, this professor ain't a bad chap to work fer. Now let's see what you brought me." Grant motioned Walter over to a workbench that had a few tools on it. Walter brought the heavy sack from over his shoulder, and brought it down with a thump. He brushed his hands on his tan shirt, and waited for the reaction from Grant.
On the workbench lay a few bottles of port, a saw, as well as some more rope. Now there was black powder and matches, all fit to blow the old house to pieces. Grant clapped Walter on the back, streaking dust over the portly man's back. The two villains shared the port as they waited for the man and woman to wake. Minutes turned to hours, and soon both Grant and Walter were anxious that neither had woken.
Walter neared the woman, her head was lax against her chest and her hair had fallen out of her bun. He pushed up her head, afraid that the boss could have killed her by accident. Instead he felt the weight of her breath on him, she was alive still. "Should I slap her awake, Grant and let you give her a punch?" Walter turned to ask his pal. Instead Grant shook his head and motioned to the upstairs.
"Don't bother, lets go up for a bite to eat. The boss won't know and those two can't get anywhere anyway." Grant opened the heavy door and led his friend up the stairs towards a pub for a good bite of grub and some port. There was stillness in the cellar, where sunlight had shone there was only the light of the gas lamp that stood nearby. The lamp flickered as the sounds of night filled the room. Then suddenly as if coming up for air, the lady's eyes flew open, and she began to hyperventilate.
Claire Watson had been awake for the past three hours, she was hungry but fear had crippled her. She had no notion of where she was besides the fact she was still in London. The young lady's mind was racing, as it tried to remember what had occurred. Mr. Holmes had caught a break in the case and had successfully linked Alexander to the murder of Mr. Burke. She and Mr. Holmes were talking strategy when a man entered into Bakerstreet and tried to assault Holmes. She had punched him hard but, he started for Holmes who was hit by a candlestick on the head. Alexander then came and distracted her while his ally hit her with the same candlestick. Claire took a few deep breaths and looked up at Mr. Sherlock Holmes who was sitting across from her. To see him asleep made him seem fragile yet calming to her, and as she inched near him Claire's heart began to pound. She needed him awake and this was the only way without raising suspicion. His breath was hot across her cheek and smelt faintly of tobacco, which made her smile. She loved the smell and let it wash over her as she kissed him squarely on the lips.
Holmes's eyes snapped open at the sudden feel of skin upon his own. The detective's mind was sent reeling as Claire sank back into her chair. He wanted to yell at her for her impertinence but this was not the time. They were tied in chairs in a strange part of town, his assistant was attempting to remain sane as she looked straight at him. "How long have they been gone, Miss. Watson?" He inquired after a long silence had past.
Claire snapped to attention, "They have been gone for about fifteen minutes I gather. I doubt they will be back anytime soon, Mr. Holmes. One of them, I think called Grant mentioned drinks. We need to leave before they get back and realize we are awake." Claire was talking quickly, her paranoia had taken hold of her. She needed to be outside to orient herself, once outside she would know where to run to. Claire knew every street, alley and dock in London and was glad to be with a good runner. She began to pull at her bonds at her feet which were not tied as tight.
Holmes watched her successfully untie her legs, "I hope you are right Miss. Watson, now if you would be so kind to turn your chair." Holmes's head ached horribly from the blow he had received. As his assistant turned her chair, his eyes focused on the knot that bound her hands. With considerably effort he had his mouth at the knot and with muttered curse words at the knot he freed her. Claire clapped her hands in celebration and untied her employer's hands as quick as she could. Holmes stood and looked around the cellar they were held in, making knocks against the wall and looking up at the window. After a few minutes he motioned to Claire, "The best way out is that window, that or we will have to blow a hole in that wall." He motioned to the far right.
Claire lifted a chair and stuck it underneath the window, she was trembling now and it would only be a matter of time until she would grow hysterical. "Let's be off, I can't stand to be cooped like an animal." She let Holmes give her a boost as she kicked the window and crawled through it. She stood and looked at the grounds around her, ready to find a route to safety. Claire stood at the back of the abandoned house, in front of her was a large brick building. She supposed it was a storage building, in the distance she heard the sound of laughter coming from the east. Claire edged around the house until she could get a clear sight of the street, it was dimly lit, but she could see people in the distance. Mostly poor folk, she saw the pub to the south and the sounds of raucous laughter.
Holmes came up behind her and after a minute he spoke, "We are standing in one of the poorer sections of town. That pub I believe is called the Nag's Head, so that means we need to head on that street to get to safety." Holmes took Claire by the wrist like a babe and dragged her to the next building. There they waited, Claire's trembling went away for now she knew where they were. The pair of them was about fifteen miles away from Bakerstreet, but they only needed to get out of Cheapside. " Are you able to come along quietly Miss. Watson? I don't want to have to carry you all the way back." Holmes's mind was set on escaping cleanly, while his heart was beating for an entirely different reason.
Claire nodded, "Yes, Mr. Holmes I am better now, let's move quietly." She followed his lead as they crossed the street and headed through an alley towards the main road. Claire cautiously stuck her head out of the darkened alley to make sure it was clear. As she stepped out, she heard the sounds of drunken laughter heading their way. Claire's heart pounded in her chest as the laughter grew louder and louder, she bit her lip and made a dash across the street to a street lamp. Holmes watched how the lamplight played on her dirty purple day dress and how frightened she looked. His heart lurched at the hopelessness she showed as the two drunken louts approached her.
At first they didn't notice the woman, but then one of them caught sight of her in the corner of his eye and ambled over to her. "Hey there sweetheart, fancy a kiss?" He mumbled at Claire, his brown eyes hovering over her body.
Claire backed away, her blue eyes wide with fright, "I am sorry but, I have a sweetheart already, love. See, that's him and if you are smart you will keep walkin'." Claire pointed to Holmes who came out of the shadows to address the situation. Holmes's clothes were just as dusty as the drunkards but his hair was still slick. He strode over with a cocky gait as if he were a man of ill repute.
Holmes came to Claire's side and look over the two men, both were very drunk and looked like they were about to topple over. "This here is my gal, Mary and she ain't a harbor trollop. Now, git before I have to show ya some respect." Holmes took hold of her waist which made Claire's heart jump. The drunks looked from Holmes to Claire, as if to decide if they were indeed sweethearts.
"I think you are bluffin', this Mary is coming with us." One punched the other in the shoulder and they laughed at the pair.
Holmes sneered at them, "You call this bluffin'?" Holmes turned to Claire and kissed her fervently. Holmes's heart was thundering inside him as his mind remained calm and collected. It was only a distraction, nothing more. Her lips were dry from lack of water, and as his tongue parted her lips, he heard a gasp escape from Claire. She let her arms encircle his neck, and let her leg rise around his waist. As quickly as it had begun, the pair parted slowly, their eyes smoldering from the kiss.
Claire turned in defiance towards the scum whose faces were lax with surprise. After a murmur of apology they slunk back to where they came. There was now silence between the detective and his assistant, Claire's mind was reeling from the sudden kiss as well as the feeling inside her that was growing. "That was good of you to think on your feet, Mr. Holmes. I was unsure what they would do to me if I did not involve you." Claire said letting the embarrassment show in her cheeks.
Holmes snorted, "I did not want you to have to fight those men, Miss. Watson, so I did the next best thing. But, let us not speak of this until we reach safety." Holmes was glad to be rid of the silence, it had led his heart temporary control and he wasn't sure how to feel about that. The detective led his assistant through the alleyways of London, all the while trying to come up for a logical explanation. Miss. Watson kissed him back to sell the mirage that they were a couple, but that gasp of pleasure concerned him. He was certain no one apart from him heard it, so why did she gasp at all? Maybe, she was trying to tell him something, but no that was impossible. She was his assistant, and there was her cousin the Doctor. If anything happened between them Watson would never forgive him. Then there was the fact that Claire like all women would try to change his habits and he wouldn't have that.
Claire followed Holmes, glad to be free of those vagrants. Her own mind was mulling over the situation, it may have been an act but her heart didn't think that there wasn't something more behind it. The feel of his tongue in her mouth made her gasp because of the sheer shock that he of all men would make her heart leap and her skin warm. But, he was the infamous Sherlock Holmes, cold and calculating. He never fell prey to feelings of love besides those brief affairs that Watson told her about. She needed a man who would be comforting as well as loving and Holmes was not that man. Claire's mind was determined to cast these romantic notions out of her, despite the pangs of her heart. As they climbed a hill and rounded a corner, the front of a bank seemed like a finish line. Holmes searched his pockets for money for a cab fare, and in finding none he led Claire onwards.
Claire couldn't help but smile as she saw a butcher shop, "I have never been happier to see a familiar storefront, but it means we are nearly home." Her mind meant to say 'Bakerstreet' but it slipped.
Holmes smirked as he let go of her wrist and together they ran towards Bakerstreet, which was brightly lit as if the flat was signaling them home. As they climbed the stairs, Claire could not help but revel in the familiar smell of tobacco. Mrs. Hudson who heard them on the stair wailed at their state of dress and hugged them both tightly. "My god, I thought you were both dead! Thank the lord you are here, Mr. Holmes, this place has had more constables then one would like. Doctor Watson has been trying to find you; I finally got him to sleep in the spare room. Do you want me to fetch him?" The older woman looked at the tired faces of her tenant and his companion.
Holmes shook his head, "Not just yet, let him sleep. Now, would you please fetch Miss. Watson and I some dinner and tea I would be grateful Mrs. Hudson." The detective placed a hand on the widow who at once went to the kitchen. He opened the door to the study and had to stop himself from darting for his favorite chair. As the detective shrugged on his robe, he could not help but feel like there was still much to do.
Claire sat on the couch with her legs curled up beside her, the day had been tiring and all she wanted was some food and sleep. But, there was a killer and now kidnapper on the loose and they had to catch him before anything between her and Holmes would be dealt with. "Mr. Holmes I know what happened in the street and the house was merely circumstantial. I meant nothing by that kiss; it was only to wake you nothing more. I wish this instance of our escape to be hidden from John. You and I both know how dramatic he is and he will try to get us to admit feelings we don't want to." Claire's tone was relaxed and sleepy but she got her point across. It was the right thing to do, to disregard her feelings until this case was done.
Holmes nodded as he filled his pipe, "I am glad you have the same frame of mind as I, Watson will never find out from me, I can assure you of that. I will put all my efforts towards catching that Alexander and his rough crowd. That man will haunt you no longer; you have my word Miss. Watson." Holmes chose his words carefully and made them count.
Claire looked at him with a glimmer in her eyes, "Thank you Mr. Holmes, for everything you have done for me. I will be glad once Alexander is gone and hanged, the past will fade and everything will be as they should." She sunk into the couch, and as she closed her eyes Claire could not help but relive that kiss.