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I did not join Holmes as he examined the site of previous night's attack, but instead hurried home to my wife, to explain to her in detail the extraordinary events of the day. She had heard of the second bombing, which had been the subject of lurid headlines in the afternoon editions of the papers, and had naturally assumed that Holmes and I were somehow involved. "Face it, John," she chided me as I admitted as much to her upon my arrival at our small but comfortable home, "Sherlock Holmes is a magnet for danger, and you are nearly as bad." She smiled to show me she wasn't angry with me, merely stating a long-known fact, then sat and listened as I recounted the events leading up to the attack, focusing on Dr. Hooper and her curious effect on my friend.
Mary gave a soft laugh as I concluded my description of the pair's first meeting, her eyes widening a bit in surprise as I then revealed Holmes' dinner invitation. The unfortunate events that followed our departure from Dr. Hooper's side clouded her blue eyes with sympathetic tears, but the tenderness with which Holmes had vowed to find the culprit brought them streaming down her cheeks. "Oh John," she said in choked voice, reaching out to lay a trembling hand against my cheek as I knelt before her, "do you think it's possible he's finally found the right woman to give his heart to?"
I turned her hand and placed a soft kiss on her palm before answering, "I cannot say, my dear, but only hope and pray that it is so."
She brought my face up to place an equally tender kiss on my lips, wrinkling her nose as always at the sensation of my mustache upon her upper lip. "Then by all means, John, accompany Sherlock on this case until the culprits have been brought to justice." She stroked her abdomen and smiled at me. "We can wait for you, John Watson. Now go help your friend. But," she added, a touch of steel entering her voice as her eyes sternly held mine and her hand tightened on my wrist, "also remind him that you have a wife and soon a child to come home to, and he will answer to me if you end up blown to smithereens. I nearly lost you that way once, and I will not tolerate any repeats of that horrible time."
I kissed her again, amazed and humbled as always that such an incredible woman had allowed me to be a part of her life. "I will do my very best not to come any closer to explosives than I have to," I promised her, and her lips curved in a sweet, wry smile as she recognized the careful way in which I'd worded that vow.
Because, after all, this was Sherlock Holmes we were discussing, and who knew what joining him for a case would bring?
oOo
The answer to that question came the very next morning, when I arrived at Baker Street to find an unfortunately common sight: Mrs. Hudson loudly proclaiming that Sherlock Holmes had finally lost his mind.
The two of them were standing toe-to-toe, Mrs. Hudson's hands nearly wringing one another off her wrists so great was her agitation as she glared up at my former flatmate. Neither seemed to notice my arrival, and I paused in the doorway, attempting to ascertain the reason for this morning's particular altercation.
Illumination was not long in coming as Mrs. Hudson demanded to know why her tenant felt it would be acceptable for him to move a young, unmarried woman into his lodgings for an unspecified period of time. "Honestly, Mr. Holmes, have you no shame? I won't have you bringing any of your loose women here, that Miss Adler was bad enough but she never stayed long enough to cause damage to my reputation! I run a respectable home, and I've put up with an awful lot over the years, but this will NOT be tolerated!"
I closed the door, rather loudly, I'm afraid, as I realized exactly what Holmes must have proposed. In the brief silence that the noise produced, I stepped forward and placed a comforting hand on Mrs. Hudson's shoulder. "Now, Mrs. Hudson, the young lady in question is hardly a loose woman," I said soothingly, whilst shooting Holmes an exasperated glare. "Holmes is merely concerned for her safety, is that not the case? You are speaking of Dr. Hooper, are you not? You wish to bring her here for her own safety?"
Holmes nodded, his own scowl not lightening one bit as he folded his arms across his chest. "Yes, Watson, for once you have accurately deduced the situation unfolding before your eyes. Dr. Hooper's injuries are not serious enough for her to need to remain in hospital for more than a single day, and I hardly feel her own lodgings – a boardinghouse run by a rather deaf old woman and her bedridden husband – feature adequate security." He raised his voice as Mrs. Hudson opened her mouth, and spoke over her. "Someone is trying to murder my path… my client," he corrected himself swiftly. "She is alone in London, with no family to speak of, and no close friends whose living arrangements are any more adequate than her own, especially when it comes to her safety! Mycroft is unfortunately out of the country at the moment or else I would recommend she stay with him, or at least obtain the services of private guards from him. Under these circumstances the only logical solution is for her to stay here, on a temporary basis, until the threat against her has been…"
"She can stay with us," I cut in loudly. Mrs. Hudson gave me a grateful look and removed herself from beneath my hand, after patting it thankfully with her own. The look she gave Holmes, however, was pure exasperated triumph. "Mary will enjoy the company, Inspector Lestrade can surely recommend some reliable and discreet bodyguards – or your own Baker Street Irregulars can assist if you don't trust the police to this matter," I added with a frown. Until we knew who the assailant was and why he appeared to be targeting Dr. Hooper in particular, it might be best to keep her whereabouts to ourselves, a fact which Holmes immediately pointed out to me. I huffed quietly but said nothing; he'd already lost the most important argument and if he needed to feel as if he'd somehow won over myself and Mrs. Hudson by pointing out the need for secrecy, I would allow him his moment of dramatics.
Although, for once in our acquaintanceship, I felt that he wasn't entirely acting out of vanity or arrogance; his very real concern for Dr. Hooper's safety seemed to color his every word, his every gesture as he fell into a flurry of action. Mrs. Hudson scurried off to her private room, muttering beneath her breath about how we would be the death of her…and yet I saw her hiding a smile, and knew she rather enjoyed the unpredictability Holmes and I brought to her life.
Holmes shouted for Billy, the young page he employed who also assisted Mrs. Hudson with various household chores. The lad quickly appeared, bounding up the basement stairs with a gleam in his eyes that told me he looked forward to whatever adventure Holmes was about to send him on. He batted not a single eyelash as he was instructed to find Wiggins, the leader of Holmes' Baker Street Irregulars, and bring him back at once. He flipped the youngster a coin, warned him it was for Wiggins and not himself, and sent him on his way. He dashed off a telegram to Lestrade, bellowed for Billy as he'd promptly forgotten he'd already dispatched the lad, and instead declared we would deliver the missives ourselves. Then he vanished up the stairs, while I slowly followed.
He did not question my presence; although I had sworn off adventuring with him on cases once I was married and installed in my medical practice, he'd either conveniently forgotten that fact (as he so conveniently forgot so many things not to his liking) or else assumed I had Mary's indulgence in this one circumstance. It was of no consequence, either way, yet it irked me that he simply assumed I was here to assist him, when I could have stopped by for any number of reasons, as I had the night before.
Holmes scribbled out the telegrams he meant to send – one presumably to his brother, the other to Lestrade – when I reached my former lodgings. I seated myself on the sofa and was just making myself comfortable when Holmes sprang from his chair, tucking the missives into his jacket pocket and snatching up his pipe. "Come along, Watson," he called out, dashing past me and heading for the stairs. "We've wasted enough time this morning as you dawdled over your morning tea and fretted over leaving Mary at such a delicate time. I can assure you, she is perfectly safe and will be even after Dr. Hooper has been persuaded to take up temporary residence in your home." He paused, then added diffidently, "Do be certain to send her my regards when you inform her of the situation, and thank her for me." He held my eye for a moment, and I nodded, smiling ruefully at how well he could read my concerns.
As we waited for a cab, he explained to me the course of action he'd decided upon for the day; I was to return to my home with Dr. Hooper, whom he rather blithely assumed would simply go with me at his recommendation. I tried to point out that she had only met the pair of us the day before, and under less than ideal circumstances, but he brushed my concerns aside in typical Holmes fashion. "Dr. Hooper is a sensible woman, Watson, she'll understand the need for this temporary disruption to her life."
He was distracted by the arrival of a cab, the driver slowing his horse and pulling up to the curb. I followed him inside, feeling an uneasy sense of déjà vu; I only prayed that today's journey did not end with an explosion. Surely Dr. Hooper's assailant could not have foreseen her survival and wouldn't have had time or the opportunity to set up another bomb in her hospital room?
When I voiced my uneasy thoughts aloud, Holmes dismissed them without explanation, unusual for him. Then I saw the tautness of his flesh, the way his fingers tapped impatiently on his knees and how his eyes were resolutely set on the front of the cab, and understood. He was desperately worried for Dr. Hooper's safety, to the point that it eclipsed even his excitement for the case. Another sign that the young lady had captured his attention – and perhaps the heart he claimed not to possess. I settled back and kept my observations and questions to myself for the remainder of the ride, allowing him the privacy of his no-doubt troublesome thoughts.
oOo
Holmes was utterly taken aback when Dr. Hooper at first adamantly refused to believe that her life was in danger. "Surely the bomber has achieved his mission here," she argued from her seat across from Mike Stamford's desk. She'd been released, at her own insistence, far earlier than I would have recommended, and it had been mere luck that we caught her before she'd left her room. Stamford had offered his office as a place for us to discuss the situation, and she'd reluctantly accepted.
That, however, had been the only thing she'd accepted, at least at first. Only Homes' insistence that by returning to her lodgings she could potentially be putting her landlady and the other tenants in harm's way caused her to hesitate; sensing that hesitation, he pressed on. "Dr. Watson is a former military man, as you already know, and his wife a sensible, even-tempered woman who will have no issue with you taking up temporary residence in their home. In fact, I would go so far as to presume she will welcome the company, considering the limitations her current condition are placing on her."
I raised an eyebrow; Mary's 'current condition' was hardly to the point of confinement, but let the statement lay when it appeared to have had some effect on Dr. Hooper's wavering resolve. "Very well," she said at last. "But I insist upon at least retrieving some of my belongings and advising my landlady as to my temporary absence." She emphasized the word 'temporary' and held Holmes' gaze until he nodded agreement to her stipulations. "And on the way, she added, as she rose to her feet, "I would very much like to hear a clear and detailed explanation as to why you have come to the conclusion that I am the target of this bomber, rather than suffragettes in general."
We parted ways at that point; I to return home and explain the situation to Mary after first delivering Holmes' telegrams, and the two of them to retrieve Dr. Hooper's personal effects. She'd borrowed a dress from one of the nurses, to replace her own ruined clothing, and was pressing Holmes to allow her to return it to the other woman before he, in her words, 'dragged her off'. I chuckled as he balked at making yet another (in his mind) unnecessary detour, but seemed to have resigned himself to returning to Bart's as he and Dr. Hooper vanished into the cab he'd summoned for the two of them.
When I arrived home, Mary was surprised to see me, but as I explained the situation she merely nodded and agreed that it was the best solution at the moment. She then bustled about, tidying things up and ringing for tea from the cook. It was the maid's day off, unfortunately, but my Mary had never held herself above doing whatever chores might be necessary, and the imminent arrival of an unexpected guest had her in a frenzy of cleaning that rapidly drove me to my surgery on the floor below.
When Holmes and Dr. Hooper arrived, some hours later, their attitude toward one another could best be characterized as cool on her part and somewhat chagrined on his, leaving me to wonder what had transpired while we had been apart. I resolved to question my friend on this matter, especially when I caught him several times casting longing glances toward Dr. Hooper's stiff back as she sipped at her tea and chatted amicably with Mary.
Holmes endured the social niceties for as long as he could stand – that is to say, not long at all. He rose abruptly to his feet, the tea in his cup scarcely touched and mine only recently imbibed, and nodded stiffly to the two women. "If you'll excuse us, Dr. Hooper, Mrs. Watson, we need to be off. I expect there will be answers to my telegrams awaiting us at Baker Street."
"Be sure to send Billy along to update us," Mary said, taking another ladylike sip of her tea. Dr. Hooper remained silent, but did likewise, offering me a smile but ignoring Holmes when he made his farewells.
Once we were outside and had secured a Hansom, I turned to Holmes and demanded an explanation. "Well? What have you done to insult the lady?"