"I give up."
I blinked and looked at Holmes, who was reading a paper.
"You what?"
"I give up."
"What!"
Holmes blinked at me. "That's the name," he said, showing me the paper. "Igiveup."
I took the paper and stared at the name with absolute and complete stupefaction.
"Bit of a defeatist, isn't she?"
"Igiveup." Muttered Holmes, "Honestly."
"She probably couldn't find another username or maybe has a dark streak of humor."
"Stop making excuses for them, Watson! She is even worse at torturing than the others." He threw a bundle of papers at me. "Read this."
I took the papers from him and flipped a few pages. A moment later-
"Oh."
Holmes smirked at me as I read through A Deadly Challenge.
"Quite…descriptive torture."
"Glass of brandy, Watson?"
"Yes, thank you." In a moment I had drained my brandy with a shaking hand while Holmes watched me quietly.
"Are you sure you're alright?"
"Absolutely." I croaked, though her chapter on my torture rang fresh in my mind. I took a deep breath and made another stab at conversation.
"It's a…challenge for you too, I think."
Holmes blinked at me. "In what way?"
I gestured at the papers. "You still have to find me."
"That's not a question, I will find you."
"How can you be so sure? You don't know these authors."
Holmes glared at me. "Nobody's going to kill my Boswell."
"Holmes…"I felt a smile creep on my face, as Holmes turned his face away and tried to pretend that he had not said what he had.
"Holmes? Well you see…"
"What is it?"
"Well she really does…kill me."
"What!"
"Yes, see." I handed him A Half of a Whole. His keen eyes quickly scanned it and grew, barely perceptibly, a shade darker.He tossed it back to me without a word.
"Its not that unexpected…really, Holmes." I could not read his stone like expression. "All these writers must have killed me at least once. Pompey did, if I remember correctly." I gave a weak laugh. "I suppose its some form of trend."
"Do they suppose I like it?" Holmes's face was still turned away and his voice barely audible. "Like knowing that I was the cause of your death?"
"Of course not Holmes, don't be silly. Beside," I said, growing defensive in my turn, "It's only fair."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"Well you've died once, haven't you? So it's only fair I do too."
He gave a short bark, his nearest approximation of a laugh. But I did not see any humor in his eyes.
"Ah…well, "I sought around for a topic to change to. I seized upon the first piece of paper which fluttered towards me.
"The Master's Limits," read out Holmes, and as I turned to pick up my cup of tea, I was interrupted by a snort of indignation.
"Watson, next time, please read through the piece before hurling it at my mercy."
I took the paper from him with some measure of bewilderment, and read through it. A slow grin spread over my face. Holmes was watching me warily.
"Well, well…"
"Don't even think about it, Watson. I know what you-Ack!"
Holmes doubled over laughing, and I grinned. This was excellent.
"How did she get hold of such information about you? Even I- Oomph!"
A cushion collided with my midriff and I doubled over, weakly laughing. Holmes straightened, with a look of triumph.
"Hah!"
"Alright, the next one, if you please."
