The Upper Hand
A/N: Haven't updated in a while. It was making me a bit depressed to open my Gmail and see no new reviews… so hopefully this will help!
"Now, really, Watson, I think I can make it on my own-" He brazenly tried to step onto his left foot, and immediately crumpled into my waiting arm. Giving up on trying to stand, he threw his arm around my shoulder and I took some of his weight, shaking my head.
"Holmes, you have turned your ankle. Perhaps snapped the bone. I assure you, it will not bear your weight. Now if you will just lean on me, I shall help you to a cab and we will be back in Baker Street in no time. Then I can properly treat you." Holmes was fairly bristling with impatience.
"It is not possible, Watson. I simply cannot miss this appointment!" I fixed him with a steady gaze.
"Oh, yes you can. Because you see, by the unlucky incident of you tripping so gracelessly over that crate, you can no longer walk without my help. And I shall not assist you in walking anywhere besides Baker Street." Holmes returned my gaze, annoyance changing to amazement that spread over his face slowly, with a smile following close behind.
"I never would have expected such underhandedness from you, Watson. I suppose it comes from your own brand of innate cunning." I felt like I had won a small victory in that moment. It wasn't often I had any sort of control over Holmes's iron will. But I intended to take full advantage of it- insofar as was required to get Holmes back to Baker Street safely. All further thoughts on the subject were soon diverted, though, as I was completely occupied by the task of helping Holmes into the hansom. It was fairly astounding that a man so thin could be that heavy.