Chapter Six.

Watson led Julia Goodwin into a nearby park, London was dotted with them which was so convenient to the illicit lover, and sat her down at a nearby bench. Carefully he took her gloved hand and proceeded to take her glove off. Watson smiled as he could hear her breathing become heavier, just as he was pulling the glove away form her hand, he heard someone shout his name rather loudly and a tall, thin man came running towards them. Watson died a little inside as he realised who it was.

"John, my dear fellow, how are you?" Sherlock Holmes exclaimed roughly shaking him by the hand, "It's me John, don't you remember, Arty? Arty Simon, from college?"

Holmes pointed to himself in a ridiculously over the top fashion and laughed, a noise with Watson was sure he was incapable of. He could do nothing but stare. Julia smiled at the two men but said nothing, a slight reddening of her cheeks the only sign of her embarrassment and discomfort at being caught ungloved with a man who was not her husband. Holmes turned his attention from a dumbfounded Watson to the lady by his side, taking a seat on her other side he looped an arm casually around her shoulders and smiled.

"Hello, not taking up with John here are you? Proper devil with the ladies, he'll break your heart mark my words," He paused to take her ungloved hand, "and one as beautiful as you should never know that sort of pain."

Never taking his eyes from hers, Holmes lightly brushed his lips against her hand and dropped it. She stared. Watson coughed.

"Arty."

Holmes ignored the stress placed on the word and continued to stare at Julia, a small smile playing around his mouth.

"Mmmm." He replied, taking Julia's fingers and intertwining them with his own. She smiled and lowered her eyes. Holmes looked towards his friend and raised his eyebrows.

"Not intruding am I John?" He continued, his eyes practically sparkling.

"No of course not, dear chap. Just taking a walk with Mrs Goodwin here, a very good friend of…a friend." Watson cursed himself as he faltered.

Holmes smiled and turned his attention back to the aforementioned Mrs. Goodwin.

"Ah, well so long as it is nothing untoward, I may stay."

Watson scowled above Julia's head.

"Of course. Walk with us."

"I much prefer to sit." Holmes said, his hand still playing with the lady's fingers. Watson noticed she did not object.

This went on for a while, Holmes flirting outrageously with Julia Goodwin while all Watson could do was watch, his attentions forgotten in the wake of Holmes' brilliance. It was much later when Julia had been deposited back at her home that Sherlock Holmes sat laughing silently in that peculiar fashion of his before a dying fire as the sun set on Baker Street.

"I do wish you'd stop Holmes." Mumbled Watson from his armchair, his eyes fixed on the newspaper in front of him.

"I did warn you to end it."

Watson grunted.

"I never knew you had such a way with women Holmes."

Holmes laughed again.

"Just because I do not constantly brag of the fact my dear fellow, does not mean I am wholly inexperienced with the fair sex."

Watson raised an eyebrow.

"Really?"

Holmes wagged a finger at him.

"A tale for another day my friend."

Watson smiled and resumed his reading.

"Just let this be a warning to you, I mean what I say and I am more than capable of getting what I want. Whatever I want."

Holmes winked at Watson who finally discarded his paper and leaned forward in his chair.

"You don't mean to say you were interested in Julia?" He asked incredulously.

"Of course not, don't be ridiculous. It was merely an experiment; it proved to you how fickle her affections were. She is evidently unhappy in her marriage so she throws herself at any man who shows her a little interest. It just proves my point that women are not to be trusted."

Watson laughed.

"That's a little harsh surely Holmes?"

Holmes shrugged.

"Is it not true? I think you will find that Mrs. Goodwin was more besotted with me than by you, you who have been lavishing every attention, and no little amount of money on her these past few weeks, and all because I showed a little interest in her. The woman is fickle Watson and you are better out of it."

Watson sighed, he knew Holmes was right. She had proven to be fickle, still the chase was always more amusing than the capture.

"Watson." Holmes' stern voice interrupted his musings and Watson again picked up his paper, "You wouldn't be thinking of doing anything rash would you?"

"Rash? Of course not Holmes. Of course not."

Holmes frowned, suspicious of the smile forming across this man's features.

"Watson?"

"Mm?"

"I have a case I am working on, a terrible murder down in Brixton, Lestrade wanted me to take a look. You wouldn't be interested in coming along would you?"

Watson raised his eyes from his paper.

"Me? On a case? Are you sure Holmes?"

"Certainly, I could use a man with your expertise and who knows? If all ends well this could be your future old boy!" Holmes smiled and slapped Watson on the shoulder as he proceeded to his room. He very much doubted the man would be of any use at all, but at least occupying his interest in other channels may prevent a scandal in the future…