December 6: "A welcoming home after a long day." (from KnightFury)
A/N: Holmes's POV. Takes place in the earlier years of Holmes and Watson's friendship. I wrote it quickly—hope it's still fairly in character.
It had been a very long time since I was this tired. Everything about this blasted case had taken so much longer than it really ought to have…which was why it was nearly one in the morning, and I was only just arriving home now.
I closed the front door softly behind me and tiptoed up the stairs to the sitting room, hoping that I could make it all the way to my room without disturbing Watson or Mrs Hudson.
It was dark in the sitting room, and I didn't want to light the gas, so I avoided the furniture by memory and the dim light of the dying embers of the fireplace. Slipping off my coat, I laid it gently down on a chair, figuring I could deal with it in the morning.
It took me a moment to realize that there was a person in the chair.
I gave a loud gasp of surprise, which awakened the occupant of the chair—Watson?!
"What are you doing up so late?!" I whispered.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," the Doctor replied softly, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Goodness, is it really a quarter after one?"
"Yes, unfortunately, it is," I replied. "Were you waiting up for me?"
"Well, yes, I was," my flatmate replied. "I thought perhaps that you might need a sounding board when you returned home, and then I apparently grew drowsy and fell asleep in my chair." He yawned again.
"You didn't have to do that," I said quickly, an unfamiliar feeling growing in my chest.
Watson shrugged. "That's all right." It was difficult to tell, but he sounded a little hurt.
"That is to say, I am grateful, but you needn't sacrifice your comfort on my behalf." There, now maybe he would understand that I had not meant to sound so brusque.
The Doctor chuckled. "That is what friends do for one another, Holmes."
Friends? Watson considered me to be his friend? Goodness, had the man really grown so fond of me to consider me to be his friend?
"Well, I thank you all the same," I replied, hoping I did not sound as uncomfortable as I felt. It would be nice to have someone I considered to be a friend, I supposed…I was simply not used to that idea…
"You're very welcome, of course," Watson replied warmly, rising stiffly from his seat.
"And, er, if you ever need anything…" I began awkwardly, though I had no idea how I would finish the thought. Hm, if I were to have a friend, Watson would be just the man. I had never considered the possibility before.
"I shall let you know," Watson smiled broadly. "Thank you. Good night, my dear fellow."
"Good night," I replied, relieved the conversation was over. As my flatmate exited the room and began limping up the stairs to his bedroom, I realized the strange sensation I had been feeling was affection.
Yes, Watson was a good man, and would be a good man to have as a friend.