Notes: I've been sick in bed for two days with nothing much to do, but this idea popped into my head and I simply had to write it. *coughing fit* Please, leave kind reviews. Maybe they'll help me heal. Also, this is probably like, the most suggestive piece I've ever written in my entire life. Seriously.

Disclaimer: No, I don't own Holmes. But a girl can dream, right?

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Fright

Miss Cecile Beauregard, one of the season's newest debutantes, approached the corner where I stood, engaged in animated conversation with my dear Watson. The only reason the two of us were at this crush was because we had been invited by Lord Havenford as a sort of payment for our work in the safe return of some of his family heirlooms.

Miss Beauregard stood just inches from me, much closer than was really proper. I could smell her perfume--a heady floral scent that was murder on my unfortunate nose.

'Mr. Holmes?' she asked in a simpering tone that was probably meant to be coy. 'My friends and I were wondering if you wished to join us at our table over there.' She gestured with one dainty, silk-gloved hand at a table on the other side of the room at which sat a large group of young ladies--I was hard-pressed to hold back a shudder.

I turned to Watson for support, but he gave me a look that said plainly 'Holmes, I shall abandon you for THE REST OF THIS TERRIBLY BORING PARTY IF YOU DO NOT SOCIALIZE A LITTLE', and I was therefore chose the lesser of two evils and followed Miss Beauregard back to her friends.

I was introduced to a group of silly, simple-minded young females, who giggled amongst themselves whenever I said something, even though the things I said were thinly-veiled insults towards them. They did not seem to notice.

I sipped at my whiskey-and-soda and was greatly surprised when I felt a hand on my arm. I turned, expecting that it was Watson, come to rescue me from this infernal tedium, but rather, it was yet another young lady.

'Mr. Holmes, I have heard so much about you,' she gushed. 'I should like greatly to someday employ your services.'

I was shocked at her suggestive words and tone! Not to mention rather disgusted, at the mere thought of...Oh, I simply cannot contemplate it!

More ladies approached me until I was surrounded. They held me fast, stroking my hair and saying such...such things! It was dreadful. I looked across the room to where Watson ought to have been, but he was not there. I scanned the room as best I could while distracted by shameless women, but he was nowhere to be found.

The women pressed ever closer to me, pawing at my clothes, and saying over and over, 'Holmes, Holmes, Holmes, Holmes, Holmes...'.

Miss Beauregard leant in and pushed her face close to mine, puckering her lips as she moved closer, closer...

'NOOOOOOOO!!'

I sat up in bed, gasping and drenched in sweat. It took me a minute to get my bearings, the horror of my dream was still with me.

Watson stirred beside me and opened his eyes, which we concerned and bleary.

'Holmes?' he murmured, raising his hand and stroking my damp hair back from my face.

I leant into his touch gratefully, breathing deeply with relief.

'Did you have a nightmare?' Watson asked softly, moving his hand to the side of my face.

'Yes, oh, God, Watson, it was horrible. We were at a party...and you made me be social, and the ladies surrounded me, and...And they said such AWFUL things, and tried...to k-k-kiss me!' By the end of my explanation, my voice had risen in pitch. 'And you...you were nowhere to be found!'

'Oh, my dear, dear Holmes! I would never allow such a thing to happen,' Watson whispered, softly kissing my forehead. 'I love you far too much.'

'My dearest Watson,' I replied tenderly. 'I am so fortunate to have you, love.'

'By-the-by, Holmes, what sort of things DID the women say in your dream? You said it was awful, but you did not say in what way.'

I frowned, annoyed with him at ruining a moment. 'They were quite...suggestive, if you must know.'

'Oh?' He raised one eyebrow in surprise.

'Indeed.' I shuddered. 'I was appalled.'

'What did they say?' asked Watson, while placing kisses along my jaw.

'Things which I should only like to hear from you, darling!' I answered wickedly, in revenge for his ruining our moment earlier.

'Really?' Watson queried, pulling away to look at me. 'Well then, I shall have to oblige you...'

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The next morning when we dragged ourselves from the comfort of our bed, Mrs. Hudson greeted us with some news.

'Oh, Mr. Holmes, Doctor, an invitation arrived for you both a while ago! From some Lord Havenford. The lad who delivered it said that the Lord is throwing some sort of party!'