|Into the Wall: Back To Baker Street
Author: ShellyStark PM
Sequel for Into the Wall: Holmes and Samantha find themselves stuck in a new era with 6 problems to track down before they find a way back home. "Welcome home Samantha," he whispered as his scruff tickled my neck. "This isn't my home Sherlock, this isn't even my time." "Home my dear, is wherever you are with me, whether it be here or there, or anywhere else for that matter."Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Mystery - S. Holmes - Chapters: 17 - Words: 38,574 - Reviews: 115 - Favs: 71 - Follows: 97 - Updated: 09-06-12 - Published: 11-09-10 - id: 6464834
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
He made no motion to move away from me; we just lay there, silently, his arms wrapped around my back and my head tucked securely beneath his chin, my cheek resting on the warmth of his chest as we looked up at the sky hidden in the depths of the surrounding valerian flowers. Perhaps he had felt guilty that I had accused him of needing some type of drug to be able to show random affection, or perhaps he was surprisingly in a tender mood. Either way, I wasn't going to complain; even if his mind was racing at a million miles a second in our current surroundings I really didn't care, so long as I got to enjoy the moment.
"Sherlock," I called his name softly. He didn't vocally reply but his body shifted and the slight tracing on my back had come to a still. "Can I… can I ask about your parents?" I asked nervously fidgeting with a button on his shirt.
"You may," he replied dryly.
"And will you answer?" I laughed.
I heard him sigh before his grip tightened around me and I was being shifted onto my side so that he was now facing me, but we were still hidden amongst the flowers.
"Why the sudden interest, Samantha."
"Curiosity is all," I answered honestly. "You don't have to, Sherlock, I was just wondering what the great Mr. and Mrs. Holmes must have been like."
"He wasn't great," Sherlock uttered, frowning slightly. "My mother yes, but my father, not in the slightest. At least what I can remember of him." He sighed once more and turned back to focus on the sky.
"Oh," I softly replied, not knowing or being able to come up with anything else to say. I figured the matter was closed; I got what I asked for, honestly I was surprised that I had even gotten that. Then again he was a little more giving lately, sometimes I had to push, but at least he was trying.
"She was the clever one, you know," he continued after a short amount of silence.
I glanced up at his face; his eyes closed in the sun and a slight smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
"Mycroft and I were lucky enough to acquire that trait from her. Her name was Margaret, spent thirteen years of my life schooling my brother and myself, scolding Mycroft as he would sulk when his calculations were wrong." Sherlock smirked at the memory before his face fell sullen "Then she was gone, left my father to be with his poison and drink," he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "And we never saw her again. We received letters for a year or so, but that only fed his anger. Constant paper cuts combined with the redness in his eyes and the way he distanced himself from Mycroft and myself; I knew she still wrote, for years to come, and then it was us who left him."
I set my hand on top of his chest and worriedly studied his face, not knowing what, or if I should say anything at all.
"From then on out it was just Mycroft and I, and years after that came John Watson and Baker Street and then you."
He turned back to face me then, his eyes holding a solemn sadness as he caressed my cheek. "And for you I am sorry that along with my mother's mind I have adapted my father's addiction."
"You, Sherlock Holmes, are you, not your mother, most certainly not your father, you are you." I placed my hand over his and smiled gently, "What your mother passed on to you is a gift and you use it as such, as for your father, his is a burden you don't have to accept. You're a greater man than you think you are, underneath all those thick layers of skin."
Sherlock pressed his forehead into mine. "I often think that you are far greater than I deserve, Samantha." Softly he pressed his lips to mine and pulled me close. "I may not say it, but you must know that I," he paused, stumbling over his words. I tilted up my head and smirked.
"I—well I care for you deeply, and um-well, you must know that I—I um-well, right then," he fumbled some more.
"I know," I replied with a smile, chuckling as I adjusted myself back into the comfort of his side.
"Not a word of this to Watson, I've known him a considerable amount longer and all he knows is when my mother gave birth to me."
"My lips are sealed."
"And not to that Hannah girl either, I am well aware of the ways women feel the need to share tales that do not pertain to them."
"Gossip?" I laughed
"Precisely," he answered curtly. I could feel him nod, his chin resting gently atop my head.
"Thank you, Sherlock," I whispered.
"You are most welcome, Samantha."
"I believe we are about to be interrupted," Sherlock grumbled, turning his head back towards the house. "In three, two, one—"
"Samantha?" Mary's voice called, her boots softly shuffling in the grass.
"Over here," I answered, waving my arm in the air and sitting up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you," she flushed and looked out towards the fields.
"No, no, don't be silly." I gently removed Sherlock's hand from my hip and got to my knees to be able to see her better. "What's up?"
"Oh, um," she glanced back at Sherlock who was now looking back at her with a raised eyebrow. "Addison thinks I can speak well enough on my own now that I can go into town, thought you might like to go and look around, seeing as Mr. Holmes isn't well enough to be out on his own yet."
Sherlock scoffed, "I assure you woman, I can handle myself quite well, thank you,"
"Sherlock," I warned, with hardened steel eyes.
He opened his mouth only to shut it again, shook his head and looked away.
"I'd love to Mary, thank you. Just give me a minute, why don't you go get the horses ready."
She nodded, glancing between Sherlock and myself before heading towards the barn.
Sherlock stood before placing a hand under my elbow and helping me to my feet and brushing the grass from his pants.
"Samantha, that woman is implying that I cannot do something as simple as—"
"What she is saying Sherlock," I cut off his building rant, "is that you still need a few days more rest." I rest a hand on his chest, "And I agree. I'll be back in a few hours!" I called over my shoulder as I walked away.
"Samantha wait," he lurched forward and grasped my hand. "Be careful."
He brought his head in closer and his voice dropped, "Don't do anything foolish, Samantha, step lightly, say nothing if you can help it. While my recollection is slight, I can tell you that none of those women have ever been down in those cells, I fear they are being saved for something much worse. I cannot lose you. Promise me."
"I'll be fine; I'll be as quiet as a mouse." I grinned, attempting to free myself from his grip, only to be pulled back.
"You must promise…please," he pleaded, his eyes begging like nothing I had never seen before; he was genuinely scared for me to go, and that in turn scared me.
"I promise," I sighed, gently taking his hands and pressing a kiss to his fingertips. "I'll be back before you know it."
"I find that highly unlikely," I heard him mumble as I left him standing there helpless, and I was about to go on a potentially dangerous field trip.
A/N: And so continues my battle with the L word. Nope, he just can't say it, I seriously refuse to believe it is in my sweet Holmsies vocabulary. Sorry it's a filler, and sorry it's a little short, but hey, we never hear anything about momma and papa Holmes, and I wanted some more fluff before we get into the meaty stuff. Besides...I'm still working out the meaty stuff. We all know I just kind of wing it. Don't forget to hit that blue button! I see you new peeps! Show me some love! I'd really love to hit one hundred reviews before next chapter.