I hissed as Holmes pressed the cotton wad soaked with antiseptic to his neck. "It's not that bad Holmes, just a scratch."

He either wasn't listening or didn't care to reply, because he didn't answer me and instead just continued to dab gently at the long line of red that stretched from my collarbone out to my shoulder blade on my back where the knife had sliced me open. It was not that bad, but it stung.

I realized I was not supposed to be there and I had just intercepted an attack on Holmes' life. There was no doubt in my mind now that Addison was out to kill the detective for his continued interference.

I didn't think it would do the situation any good to point that out. Holmes looked miserable enough to make Watson believe he had figured it out on his own. Watson winced again as Holmes dabbed and the detective frowned. "I'm sorry Watson."

"This is not your fault." Watson replied.

"You know very well that this is Addison seeking revenge. You should not be getting involved with this."

"Whether you like it or not Holmes I chose to get involved." I hissed. "And whether you like it or not I'm remaining by your side until this is done. Is that going to be a bother?"

Sooooo I'm an idiot. I let this originally get posted without the 'b' at the end there. *Sigh*.