Roses Have Thorns- Chapter 4- How the Cat Caught the Mouse
It had been a long, dreary, violin-induced day when an obnoxious knock sounded on the door.
Watson.
The name had now become dreaded. Especially when I didn't have a case.
The knock sounded again before the door opened.
"Holmes?"
I stayed silent. It was highly improbable that he would leave, but I could at least give it a chance.
He started to roam around the apartment and then entered the room I was in.
"Holmes, being silent doesn't mean your invisible," he plainly said.
"I wasn't thinking that. We're you? Cause if you were I think you need to take a visit to the doctor."
Watson sighed and sat down in a chair while I laid the violin underneath my chin and began to pluck a few notes at a time.
"I've arranged for a nice dinner with Mary," he paused, "and I'm inviting you to join us." Of course this sentence wasn't said with the normal tone that a friend would say to another friend. It was said with regret and remorse in each word and syllable.
I immediately struck a sower note as soon as he finished and removed the violin from underneath my chin.
"You. Watson. Are inviting me. Holmes. To dinner with your girlfriend, who absolutely despises me?"
"Well you are going to be my best man and I thought it would be best to get you both on speaking terms again."
"Your best man. I don't recall ever agreeing to those terms."
"You did say it when you were drunk at the Mason that one time."
"..."
2 months ago...
I had no clue had I came to this state but I was stone drunk. It was one of the moments in a man's life where you just couldn't make out anything that happened.
"Holmes." The voice seemed to appear out of nowhere.
I turned from the bar behind me and leaned back to see Watson.
"My ol' fr'end!"
"Holmes. Why am I not suuurprized?" A certain expression passed his face at that moment but I was too preoccupied with the beautiful ceiling that I didn't notice.
"Why Holmes! Have you... have you ever been a best man?"
"Whut?" I questioned back.
"A best man. Why it's the best thing ever!"
"-r'lly?"
"Yes. Oh my. Well. Would you-like to be my best man?"
"I would be 'onor'd-" and with that I passed out.
"Taking advantage of your own friend. How do you sleep at night?"
"Somehow I manage. Well are you up to dinner then?"
"Sure. When is it?"
"Tonight. Get yourself looking presentable." With that he got up and went into the other room to begin shuffling through my things.
I groaned at the thought of all the people.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXx
After around 10 minutes had passed I looks somewhat decent. I pulled the collar a bit to loosen it up and then took a glance in the mirror before going into the sitting room where Watson was impatiently waiting. He studied my outfit and sighed. "Lets go."
I grimaced at the thought of dinner with his unfit wife. Watson got up from his chair. His gloves were still set upon the table next to him but I didn't bother to say anything. He could have cold hands for all I cared.
We left without a word being uttered. Across the hall I thought I spotted someone in the alleyway but when I took a double take they were gone. I left it in the back of my mind for later. For right now I had to concentrate on the things that were coming.
Few people walked on the streets. There was one however. The man from the pawn shop. Immediately my mind began coming up with all the reasons that he could be there but Watson interrupted my thoughts.
"Were going to the Mason. It's a wonderful restaurant. The foods excellent."
An awkward silence lingered for a moment as they walked to a more populated part of town to pick up a cab. Seeing one, I waved for it. Watson began to shuffle in his pockets.
"Holmes you aren't wearing my gloves are you?" He questioned while the cab pulled up.
"No. You left them at Baker Street."
He gave an exasperated sigh, "Why did you not tell me that earlier Holmes?"
"I forgot."
He rubbed his hand on his face. "Alright we'll swing by there and pick them up." I smiled and opened the door for him.
And so we rode back toward Baker Street. I barely held in a chuckle when I looked over to find that Watson had been pouting like a 10 year old child.
We arrived and I told the cab driver to wait for a bit while we headed up to get the gloves.
Watson practically stomped up the stairs.
Once we opened the door I could already tell that something wasn't right.
"Watson," I breathed.
"Oh, what is it now?"
"Someone was here. The window was jimmied and left open." I looked toward the floor first. Nothing was misplaced except a newspaper that had been laying on the floor but was now on the desk. On the very corner of it was some blood from the thief's finger. It was still wet...
Something to the left caught my eye. His shoes. The same black shoes made from high class leather with a scratch on the front of the right shoe. Turning it over I examined the dirt on the bottom. Most of it was from the shadier region of London. Expected of the Black Rose.
"He's still here."
Watson came up beside me. "What makes you think that?"
"These shoes are important to him. I doubt he would leave them."
Watson reached in a drawer and pulled out his revolver out.
Quietly I pulled mine from my coat and we started looking around the room for more oddities. Only a few papers had been moved the were on the floor.
They were moved to the side as if he had tripped on them while running. They led to a closet in my bedroom.
I motioned for Watson and together we stood outside of the door with our guns loaded.
The tension grew as I stared at the door knob. Carefully, I grabbed it and threw the door wide open. A shaded figure stood in there and immediately lunged at me while flinging coats that had been on his arms all over the place. It impaired my vision only for a moment while the man tackled me to the floor, knocking my gun far out of reach.
While attempting to pin me down he reached for a gun he had in his pocket.
Watson was standing by looking for a clear shot.
I struggled against Black Rose, but I was able to over power him and flipped him over so I was on top.
Then I saw his face. Young, pale, almost gauntly. His eyes and messy yet sophisticated hair were pure black.
I lunged my fist towards his face and hit him square in the face.
He was knocked out instantly.
I got off of him and took a step back.
"He put up quite a fight," I chuckled.
A/N
Oh my god I finally finished this chapter. Ughhhhhh. I really didn't want to do this chapter for some reason.
Yay procrastination.
Trust me its going to be more funnier and interesting once this gets rolling. :D It's going to be so much fun to write.
Soon I might post up a picture of my character. I'll be sure to notify you guys via author note and the link will probably be on my profile.
Oh and I wanted to ask... Does anyone find author notes annoying? Cause I can stop it if you want.
Kthanxbai!