Three months later
Sam and Elizabeth had been staying with Sherlock and Watson since Blackwood was arrested. Sam and Sherlock were very close but Sherlock wasn't interested in being a relationship as the one between his partner and Elizabeth was troubling him. John was courting Elizabeth and he was planning to propose. Sherlock was not ok with this.
Anyways, Elizabeth was doing some paperwork for John while he was in an appointment with a Captain Phillips.
"156 over 80. Very good," John said with a satisfied look on his face.
"My nerves are the best they've been in years, thanks to you," Phillips praised. "Tell me, your new premises, when will you be moving in?" Elizabeth smiled. She was moving with John into a much nicer home.
"I should be in within a week. Cavendish Place," He boasted. "And there will be a woman's touch too." He smiled at Elizabeth who blushed and looked back at her work.
"Well that's marvelous," Suddenly, a gunshot sounded, making both men duck and startling Elizabeth which made her fall out of her chair.
"Good god! That was gun fire," The captain said, angrily. Watson went to help Elizabeth to her feet.
"No. No, no. Hammer and nail wasn't it?" John insisted as he nervously laughed. "My colleague is probably just putting up a painting. I'll go and check."
"Your colleague?"
"Yes."
"He won't be moving with you will he?"
"No he won't." John said bitterly and pulled Elizabeth out of the room. He saw Mrs. Hudson, the landlady.
"Mrs. Hudson," He sighed.
"I won't go in there by myself. Not while he has a gun in his hand," Elizabeth rubbed the older woman's shoulder, in a kind attempt to calm the poor woman down.
"You don't have to. Give me the paper and mail," Watson took the paper and Elizabeth took the mail.
"What will I do when you both leave? He'll have the whole house down," Mrs. Hudson panicked.
"Hey you have my sister here to keep him in line," Elizabeth reminded her.
"Correct. And he just needs another case," Watson assured.
"Couldn't you have a longer engagement?" Mrs. Hudson whispered to John. Then Captain Phillips came out in a rage.
"I smell gunpowder! It's not right you know! Not in a domestic environment!" Another gunshot made the men duck and the women gasp.
"Captain Phillips, please forgive us. Here, why don't you go downstairs so Mrs. Hudson can make you a cup of tea?" Elizabeth said. She was always good at calming people down, whatever the situation.
"Same time next week," Watson said, as Mrs. Hudson led the man downstairs.
"Oh, Mrs. Hudson?" The elderly woman turned to the red-headed girl. "Bring something to cheer him up?" She asked shyly. Mrs. Hudson smiled and nodded.
Watson sighed and knocked on the door to Sherlock's room. No answer. He opens the door but it was semi-blocked by something. He sighed again.
"Permission to enter the armory?" He asked his companion sarcastically.
"Granted," Another gunshot entered the wall. The many holes spelled out the letters VR. Watson and Elizabeth walked into the room. It was very messy. Sam was sleeping on the couch near a window. Elizabeth was shocked that her sister could sleep through the sound of gunshots. "Watson, Elizabeth, I am in the process of inventing a device that suppresses the sound of a gunshot."
Elizabeth opened a curtain making Sherlock scream in pain at the sudden light.
Sam shot up awake. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT?!"
"You sleep through a bunch of loud gunshots and a scream from Holmes wakes you up?" Elizabeth asked, with a raised eyebrow.
"Shut up," Sam mumbled.
"It's not working," Watson said. "It's been three months since your last case."
"Watson, be gentle with me – AHHH!" He screamed again as Watson opened another curtain.
"I think it's time you found another one," Watson said taking the mail from Elizabeth.
"I couldn't agree more, Sherlock crawled out of the shadows looking like a fifty year old man with a major hangover. "My mind rebels in stagnation. Give me problems give me work." He begged, as he climbed into his favorite chair.
Sherlock grabbed Sam's waist and pulled her into his lap.
Watson handed him the paper, "Let's see. There's a letter here from Mrs. Ramsey of Queen's Park. Her husband has disappeared."
"He's in Belgium with the scullery maid," He then looked at Elizabeth. "Is it November?"
Elizabeth sighed with a soft smile, "Yes, Sherlock."
"Right. Lady Radford reports…oh, her emerald bracelet has disappeared," If Watson thought Sherlock would have to think this one through, he was wrong.
"Insurance swindle. Lord Radford likes fast women and slow ponies."
"Cheap bastard," Sam commented.
"Indeed Sam. Ah I see the famous you're the doctor that is to be the attending physician at Blackwood's hanging," He looked at Watson.
"Yes, it was our last case together and I wanted to see through to the end," Watson explained.
Just then Mrs. Hudson walked in with a tray.
"A Mr. Lewis is seeking…" Watson started.
"There is only one case that intrigues me at present. The curious case of Mrs. Hudson, the absentee landlady. I've been studying her comings and goings. They appear most sinister," Sherlock interrupted.
"Tea, Mr. Holmes?" Mrs. Hudson asked.
"Is it poisoned, nanny?" Sherlock asked tauntingly.
"There's enough of that in you already," Mrs. Hudson shot back with a smile. She grabbed the old tea tray from the table.
"Don't touch! Everything is in its proper place as per usual, nanny," Sherlock sneered.
Sam slapped Sherlock upside the head, "Be nice. She is the one who cooks your meals. And she could stop doing so."
"You could always take her place."
"Sam can burn water," Elizabeth laughed. "What makes you think she'll cook for you? Besides, even if she could cook, she is not a housewife in the slightest. One time our father asked her to get him a drink and she told him to get off his lazy ass and get his own drink."
"Oh he's killed the dog. Again," Mrs. Hudson commented.
Elizabeth ran over to Gladstone's still form.
"What did you do to Gladstone now?!" She hissed. She adored Gladstone and it pissed her off to no end when Sherlock experimented on the poor dog.
"I was merely testing out a new anesthetic. He doesn't mind," Sherlock shrugged, which earned him another hit on the head from Sam. "Will you please quit that?"
"No," Was all Sam said in reply.
Watson went over to his dog and checked his pulse.
"Don't worry darling. His pulse is normal," He assured his pissed off love. She calmed down and left the room to go back to the paperwork. After she left, Watson stood up and faced Sherlock. "Holmes, as your doctor…"
"He'll be as right as a trivet in no time," Sherlock said.
"As your friend!" Watson raised his voice. Sherlock sat back looking away from Watson. "You've been in this room for two weeks. I insist you have to get out!"
"There is nothing of interest for me out there on earth, at all."
John then got an idea, "So your free this evening?"
"Absolutely."
"Dinner?"
"Splendid."
"The Royale?"
"My favorite."
"Our father is coming. He was somehow able to travel through time to be here for Elizabeth and John's engagement."
Sherlock went wide eyed. "Not available."
"You're going, Sherlock Holmes!" Sam yelled.
"Have you proposed to her yet?"
"No, I haven't found the right ring," Watson admitted.
"Then it's not official," Sherlock said.
"It's happening, whether you like it or not. Eight Thirty, the Royale. Wear a jacket!" Watson then left the room.
"You wear a jacket," Sherlock muttered.
"Not a good comeback, Sherlock," Sam said, kissing his cheek before leaving as well.