Hello all. This is a little fic I wrote a while ago and decided to post. For any of you who are waiting on my Merlin fic, I am so sorry for the delay. I'm working on it but school kinda got in the way for a while. This fic was already written just never typed.
Anywho, this little story had to do with Watson, Holmes and a boxing ring. Enjoy!
Sherlock Holmes mounted the stairs to 221B, pulling his jacket closer to ward off the chill of London's dreary weather. After just finishing an unexpectedly laborious case, he was ready for the delightful distractions of the various experiments that awaited him in his room. Not that the job was all that taxing for his mind. After all it took him mere seconds to deduce that the jewel he was hired to locate had not been stolen as his client had thought, but had indeed been taken by the client's husband. It turned out that the clasp had been broken, and the husband intended to fix it as a surprise birthday gift for his wife. Of course, this caused a bit of a stir between the pair and Sherlock found himself inexplicably pulled into the middle of it. Honestly, why anyone wanted to get married was beyond him. (Watson included)
So it was with weary eyes that Holmes gazed upon the slightly cracked door to his lodgings. God save the poor wretch who decided upon breaking into his home tonight. Holmes was hardly in the mood to grant mercy. Placing his back against the door, he listened for any sound that might give him a better idea as to what was occurring on the other side. Strangely, he heard nothing. No scuffling of feet, no fumbling of objects, only a faint breathing that he instantly recognized as Gladstone's. Well at least the pup was alright, most likely hadn't awoken at the intruder's presence. Watson was good enough to leave the dog citing something about not wanting Holmes not to get too lonely or some such nonsense. At any rate, it would seem that the perpetrator was no longer in the room. Just as well, Holmes would gather the facts, find the thief and retrieve the stolen items after a night's rest. Still… he couldn't shake the idea that someone was currently occupying his rooms.
"You needn't bother with stealth Holmes." An incredibly familiar voice called out. Holmes opened the door wide to reveal a very despondent looking Watson sitting on the floor with his back against the wall, his arms wrapped around his knees, and his head lying in his arms. Gladstone was lying at his feet looking equally depressed.
"I hadn't realized I left the door unlocked," said Holmes, still standing in the doorway. "I thought it was my gun I had forgotten."
Watson responded, never lifting his head "You did. It's sitting over on the coffee table. Mrs. Hudson out for the day, then?" For it was the only way Holmes could have known he left the door unlocked. Mrs. Hudson would have let him in had she been there.
"Out visiting her sister or something of the kind." He said "So what was the game this time; cards, or a roll of the dice perhaps?"
The doctor rolled his head to side so at least one eye could glare at Holmes "Your powers of perception never cease to amaze me. How the bloody hell did you deduce that!"
Sherlock smiled as he closed the door, "It was quite simple, really. Your slumped posture shows obvious signs of anguish. You have no visible wounds and even so, you are a doctor and would not come here for that. Furthermore, the lining of your pockets are sticking out slightly which tells me you have been hastily searching them for loose coins. And then of course, my dear Watson," he then crouched down to be level with his friend causing the doctor to peer up at him. "The last time I saw you this way, you had managed to lose two month's rent in a single hour." His mouth gave way to a coy smile to which Watson merely lowered his head and groaned. Sherlock stood, removed his coat, and grabbing his pipe made himself comfortable on his favorite chair.
"Mary and I had a row over it" Watson mumbled "She kicked me to the curb for the day."
Holmes mulled the idea over in his head. He did feel a bit of sympathy for his friend's current state but it had provided them with a rare occasion; A day for the boys just to be boys. Since the day the doctor had gotten married, their time together was always entirely too short. He certainly was not about to let Watson's sullen mood to ruin this fine stroke of luck. Having made up his mind, the detective jumped to his feet. Tugging lightly at Watson's arm as he went over to his coat, he said "Come along Watson. We mustn't waste time."
Watson glared at the man he considered to be his best friend. How was it possible that for all of the detective's observational skills, he missed the perfectly clear fact that Watson was not in the mood to travel anywhere? He was about to say as much when a coat, his coat, was thrust upon his person. "Holmes," he asked indignantly "What on earth are you thinking?"
Holmes turned from the door he was nearly out of to face the good doctor, "I, my dear boy," he all but cooed "am thinking of the perfect way to regain the money you have lost." With that he was gone, leaving a bewildered Watson to stare at the back of the door. He had followed Holmes through many of his harebrained adventures and more often than not they lead to trouble. That being said, Watson mysteriously found himself standing, placing on his hat and coat, and following Holmes down the stairs and out to the front of 221B. If whatever the detective was planning didn't work, it would at least provide a decent distraction. Of that, Watson was certain.
Yay for the prologue!
I'll post the rest of the chapters soon. Let me know what you think so far though
Reviews definitely appreciated.