The inspiration for this double 221B came after watching DANC, but it could have happened at any point in time.
I stared out the train window, watching the rain make gloomy splatters against the sooty glass. The dank atmosphere seemed to be in harmony with my state of mind, and I was hard pressed to not put my fist through the pane from sheer frustration at the injustice of the matter and my own utter failure.
I have never tolerated failure from others, much less myself.
As my frustration built up within my mind, like a kettle about to boil over with a burning hiss of scalding water, I could feel my jaw aching where it was clenched and my hands were following suit. Even the heavy rattle of the wheels on the rails seemed to beat out a steady death knell of defeat.
Finally I could take it no longer and angrily shoved from my seat, aiming for the compartment door.
Only to find it blocked by a familiar figure, arms folded, looking at me with concerned eyes.
"Sit down. Now."
I glared in response, and he caught me by the shoulders and pushed me back into my seat. I knew that if I fought, I was liable in my disturbed state to do him some physical harm without intending to, and so I sat without resistance.
"Look at me, Holmes," came the voice, firm and stern but soft with sympathy.
One of the three seemed to be oddly soothing, and I turned my gaze upward.
"You are not infallible."
"That has been proven most definitely, Watson!" I snapped.
He returned my glare. "There was nothing more you could have done!"
"I could have been less slow and clumsy, and my client might still be alive!"
My voice was harsher than I had meant it to be, but I cared naught.
"You are not omniscient! Have a bit of faith in yourself!"
"Not now," I whispered, staring out the window.
I heard a long sigh, and I knew he had given up trying to convince me I was not to blame. For we both knew I had been; not wholly, but to some extent. Nothing could change that.
It was my fault, in part at least.
I felt him sit beside me, and silence broken only by pouring rain filled the compartment. Then a hand came to rest lightly upon my shoulder.
"Well for what it's worth, I shall never lose faith in you, Holmes. Failure or success, that will never change."
I kept my gaze toward the window, not knowing if the smeared glass was from the rain or my suddenly clouded vision.
It defied all logic, this unswerving loyalty.
Some mysteries were too much for even my remarkable brain.
And now, after that somewhat melancholy ficlet, I bring you news that may lift your spirits a bit.
My co-author has found a block of time every day free which she is more than willing to use in writing. You all know what that means...
-dramatic pause-
You can expect That Whiter Host within a week or two - NOT in 30 days. :)
Feel free to flip out now, people - I certainly did when she told me!
And she did chew me out for being evil with the teasers, in case anyone is interested in a personal drama... D8