Jacqueline homes | By : Titan Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Het Views: 3707 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. |
Chapter 3
“There is a post box that way.” I turn to find Mr. Holmes; he is there in only his morning coat. Which he was wearing before?” If you like I can show you.”
“You may accompany if you want to Mr. Holmes. I was only going to send a letter to my brother and to go for a short walk.” He walks down the rest of the stairs. He hold up his arm to me; I loop my arm with his as we start to walk.
“I hope you don’t mind if I pry? But what are you writing your brother at such an early date. You have only been here a week.”
“I’m asking him to send my mothers piano, I cannot stand to be with out it any longer.”
“I see. But I don’t believe we will have any room for a piano in are apartment.”
Don’t worry it is a specially made. My father had it made for my mother for a wedding present. Because he could not stand to have my grandmothers piano; which of cores is a normal size one. My mothers piano is a about half the size, it takes about four men to move it. I a sure you that you will be amazed.” We come to the post box where I drop the letter into the slot. “Where would you like to for a quick walk.”
“There is a small park down a ways. If you would like to continue.”
“Yes, that sounds interesting. Are you sure your warm enough. It is quite chilly out for March.” I see him smile to him self.
“Thank you for asking but I’m quiet warm.” I blush slightly, we continue on are way. When we reached the park we entered the black cast-iron gates. We walked around for a while and continued on are way back to 221b Baker Street. We walked into the sitting room. “Would you like some tea?”
“Yes please.” I sit down in one of the chairs sinking in to its softness. Mr. Holmes hands me one of the cups. He takes the seat next to me. We stare at the fire for a while; I look over at him from the corner of my eye. He is rather hand some. I watched him as he stared at the fire; he looked as thought he was in deep thought. He slowly turned to face me and leaned forwards. I turned to him. He appeared to be weighing out his thoughts of what he wanted to say. He seems to come to a solution.
“Miss. Cole.” I look deep into his eyes.
“Yes, Mr. Holmes.” He smiles.
“I think that it would be right if you could begin calling me by my first name, which is Sherlock.”
“And you may call me Jacqueline or Jacie and Jacques only if I’m dressed as a boy. Which is how I came here.”
“I bet you confused Watson.”
“Yes I did it was rather funny. But I would think that Jacqueline is feminine for Jacques, which is Jacob in English. But some times you don’t think of it.” He nods.
“Even I still confuse him sometimes and I have known him for at least five or six years. He still thinks what I do is amazing. But he has been a good and loyal friend when I need him.” I smile.
“Yes I understand. Well I hope I will be able to go home soon. I hate having a stocker that wants to harm me doesn’t help.”
“Well we have to wait for the right moment for him to be brought out into the open. Before he can harm you or your brother. So don’t worry you will not come to any harm while you are here.” I smile at him and he gives me one back.
“I think you are to have a new client.” I smile at him. He gets up and looks out the window.
“Yes, a young widow and she’s carrying a small child.” We hear the front bell ring and the door being answered by one of the servants. There is a nock on the sitting room door. Sherlock rushes to open the door.
“Please come in Mrs.” The widow entered the room caring the child, he look half asleep at the moment. She sits the child down in one of the vacant chairs. “Are you awake Micheal.” The child sutures.
“Would you like my friend Miss. Cole to take your son for you while you are here.”
“Yes thank you.” I walk over to them.
“I will take him into the dinning room while you’re here. I think the doctor is still in there.” I take him into my arms.
“His name is Michael, he’s three years old.”
“Hello Michael may name is Jacqueline, but you can call me Jack.” I hear him try to say my name, but it only comes out as small noises. I smile at Sherlock and get a small one in reply. I leave the room and headed towards the dinning room.
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