Disclaimer: I do not own Sherlock Holmes or any of its brilliant characters. They belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, a true literary genius. However OC characters that will appear here do belong to me, but as to whom they are, I will leave that to be revealed with the story.
Author's Note: Once again I apologize for the wait. Summer school takes up sooo much time. Anyone seen the preview for the new Sherlock Holmes movie? Fantastic! I'm super excited. There's some situational irony that you will find if you follow my story long enough. But that's all I'll say. On to another chapter!
Chapter Three
A week easily flew by as the two companions of 221B Baker Street fell back into their usual patterns of living together as they had before. It was very similar to the times when John had first moved in with Sherlock and his health was not entirely perfect. He did not go out as often and seemed more solitary, although he spent a good deal of time sitting around Holmes' office. While Holmes would work or think, Watson would just sit and read or find other ways to pass the time. It occurred to Sherlock, however, that this might not be entirely good for the doctor. Although he greatly enjoyed passing every hour locked indoors himself, he recalled his friend often pestering him to go out of doors. The fact that Watson did not seem to want to go out was out of character, and therefore, a frustration to the detective. As time was moving from one week closer to two since John's arrival, Sherlock had had enough. The two were sitting together in the sitting room, Sherlock plucking idly on his violin, and John reading the morning paper. Holmes peeked over at Watson but Watson was paying no mind to him. With a devilish smile Holmes plucked a particularly sour note. The reaction was instant. Watson's back straightened and his grip on the paper tightened in a silent cringe. Although he couldn't see the doctor's face, he knew the man's jaw had tightened and his eyes narrowed. Step one complete – get the subject's attention. Step two – push the limit. Sherlock drug the bow across the violin creating a long loud screeching noise. Watson physically twitched as his annoyance and discomfort grew. Step two complete. Step three – make subject plead for mercy. The cacophonous noises coming from Holmes's violin would have been enough to make any sane man snap. It was a note to the doctor's strength just how long he was able to hold out.
"For heaven's sake Holmes! Stop that infernal noise!" Watson snapped, throwing down his paper in his lap and throwing a glare at the detective. The look on Holmes's face was a mixture of angelic innocence, and wicked glee at his success.
"Why my dear fellow, I had no idea it was bothering you." Holmes replied, sobering his face up into pure feigned innocence. Watson made a sound of distaste. He knew Sherlock well enough to know when he was being played.
"What is it you want?" he asked with a resigned sigh. Step three – complete. Step four – propose desired activity. Sherlock yawned and stretched his arms over his head, bow in one hand, and violin in the other.
"Bit stuffy in here don't you think?" Holmes asked. Watson waited for the rest. When it was clear John wasn't going to play along, Holmes continued.
"Why don't we go out for a stroll for a bit? Stretch our legs?" he asked, glancing at Watson's leg that had caused the doctor so much grief since his painful wound on the battlefield. Step four complete, and now the final step – subject's acceptance of desired activity. Watson sighed and looked at his newspaper. He'd been avoiding this, it was true. He had said he wanted things to be just as they once were when he came back here, but he had not done entirely that. The truth was he was hiding. There were a great deal of reminders out there, and in his hope to shut away the pain, he had shut himself away from the world. Part of him had known that he couldn't stay that way forever, but part of him had hoped that he could.
"The fresh air will do you some good." the detective said quietly, a touch of kindness in his voice. John looked at him and gave him a small smile before setting the paper aside. Sherlock let a small smirk pull at the corner of his lips, the final step was complete.
The two got their coats and hats and soon set off down the road side by side, their steps nearly in sync except for Watson's limp. They were quite a pair to behold, Holmes and Watson, as they had always been since the doctor had met the detective. There were those that remembered the doctor and had seen the two set off like this on many a day to solve one case or another, and when they saw the two out together again, they gave the pair a nod and smile. After all, who doesn't like to see the happy and familiar?
As the two travelled the sound of music filled the air and voices chanting and calling. Before they could round the corner, Holmes stated his theory on the source of the noise.
"Gypsies." was the only word necessary to describe the sight that then met them. A group of bystanders gathered around to watch a single girl dressed in rich colors dance around revealing more skin than was usually proper for a woman of that time. A group of men in loose shirts and open vests sat around with instruments and played for her, grinning and singing. A hat stood at the front of the spectacle, open and waiting for payment from the passersby that stopped to watch. The girl twirled, causing her flowing turquoise skirt to flutter out in a perfect bell and her dark curls to dance around her face. She twirled right through the crowd and came to a stop in front of the detective and doctor, her bright blue eyes, a rare color for her people, sparkled in the sunlight as she looked them over. She flashed them a smile and then continued her dance back to the center of the circle. Holmes glanced at Watson but the doctor showed no emotion on his face. This both surprised and impressed the detective, for the man he had once known would certainly have shown an interest in the girl, even if he knew he should not. Perhaps Watson had changed more than he expected. Only time and further observation would tell. The two turned and set off down a less crowded path to continue their stroll.
They walked through the park and spoke mildly of the weather and health of the plants. A few nostalgic memories were recalled of times they had been there before and finally when there was nothing left to say they fell into a comfortable silence. Some would feel awkward here, or uneasy, but for them it was just another form of conversation, only silence, and word's weren't necessary to pass the time, only the presence of another human being so that they might not feel completely solitary in such a large and vast world. Soon the sun began to set and two turned their feet back towards home and the hopes of a warm fresh meal. Mrs. Hudson's niece was waiting for them when they returned with the door open and ready.
"Welcome home Mr. Holmes, Dr. Watson." she smiled kindly as she stepped aside for them to enter.
"May I take your coat and hat for you?" she asked, holding out her arms. Holmes dropped his coat and hat in her arms without a blink. Watson gave her a gentlemanly smile.
"Thank you Miss Lily." he said as he handed his own over. The girl smiled.
"My pleasure sir." she replied, "Dinner is ready. I took the liberty of setting it out on the table for you downstairs." Watson nodded to her and followed Holmes, who had already walked into the room.
"Couldn't you be a bit more polite?" Watson asked as he and Holmes took a seat at the table. Sherlock threw him a dirty look. That didn't faze him however.
"She seems like a nice girl. There's no need to be so cold to her." he added. Now Holmes seemed amused.
"You've taken to her nicely." he mused. John pointed his fork at him, a dark look on his face.
"Don't even start." he warned him, all joking tones gone from his voice. Holmes shrugged and went back to his dinner. A long awkward silence fell over the pair broken only by the sound of clinking china as they ate. Holmes wasn't bothered however. This certainly wasn't the first time he had annoyed the doctor, and certainly wouldn't be the last. Finally as they were finishing the last of their wine glasses, Holmes broke the silence.
"I have a new case." he said. Watson looked at him, surprised and a bit knocked off guard.
"When did you get that?" he asked confused.
"I looked through my requests and found one that wasn't such a complete insult to my practice that I could take it. There is a rent after all." Holmes replied with a slight air of amusement. Watson nodded.
"So are you going to tell me anything about it?" he asked, perking up a bit. That was all the invitation Sherlock needed.
"Let's retire upstairs and I'll tell you everything." he said, getting to his feet. John did the same and the two headed back to the sitting room, their fight completely forgotten.