Nanny
I left the room and with a sigh let my head fall back and rest against the door. As thankful as I was that he was alive, albeit a bit broken, but alive all the same; I couldn't help but worry. Infection, if it happened, would be a major issue, and with or without Mycroft's girls, I would make it my first priority to get him back to Baker Street.
No matter how much of a fuss he put up.
I'd take him back to get fixed up, and we could come back…then again finding a way back home was going to be another chore in its self. I forced an inner laugh. Home. I was quickly forgetting my little bakery, not to mention my brother, and calling 322B my home, simply because he was there. I suppose he was right after all; home was wherever he was, and I had no intentions of staying away from long.
"Samantha?" Sherlock's muffled voice called from the other side of the door.
I closed my eyes and grimaced. Of course he knew I was there. Lingering. Nevertheless I said nothing.
"You'll get nothing out of fussing over me, Samantha. Especially if you are doing it from outside the room."
Silence hung in the air for a few moments and then the sound of the water bowl hitting the floor followed by familiar grumbling. I opened the door and quickly stepped back inside, not surprised at the sight of Sherlock trying to get himself on his feet.
"Don't get up," I scolded.
That devilish grin was already on his face while he had one hand firmly on the bed rail and his feet firmly on the floor. He pushed himself slowly.
"Holmes…" I warned.
"Really, my dear, you left me little choice. You'll be sulking until I'm up and about, so I might as well show you I am in fact in better health than you believe."
He released the hand on the bed rail, steadied himself and took a very labored step.
"See there, perfectly fine," he said smugly, just before his injured leg began to wobble. I quickly crossed the room and linked my arms under his right as he sunk into my embrace; and nearly brought me to the floor.
"Well almost," he groaned as I tried to help him back onto the bed.
I couldn't help but laugh. "You, Sherlock Holmes are incr—"
"Incredible? Incurable, incalculable?"
"Incorrigible."
"Oh," he breathed, getting himself situated. "Honestly now, Samantha, would you have me any other way?" he teased. Eyebrow arched and a smirk pulling at his lips.
"Probably not," I agreed. "And your point has been made Mr. Holmes."
"Good. Now go on then, you too can do some good with a rest and some cleaning up," he said squeezing my hand lightly.
He was right, spending most of the day in that hooded get-up, with the sun blaring down, not to mention all the dirt and blood that I had on me from his own wounds.
I nodded and with a short laugh left his room once more.
A/N: Sweet Holy Moses! Could it be…an actual honest to God update! Well a short one at that, but I have been meaning to get back to these two. And seeing the new Sherlock might have helped just a bit. Go see it by the way. Amazing! Simply wonderfully, beautifully, amazing. Sorry once more for my total suckage, and the shortness. But you guys totally deserved something, and I needed to hop back on the wagon, or pony, as it were. Anyway, you all know the drill.
Lots of love,
Shelly.