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Six Weeks	By : Leloi Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 4258 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Six Weeks
- 2-Week 2
- 3-Week 3
- 4-Week 4
- 5-Week 5
- 2
- 3
- 4
Week 3, Watson

I alighted up the steps of our home with some excitement. I knew Holmes would most likely be in the sitting room where I had left him before my errands. Or perhaps he would retire to his room using the crutch I had given him. These past few days he had returned to his more familiar self after having a queue of clients who needed his advice. In fact Lestrade had made an appearance or two.

I changed my hold on the bag of pastries in my hand to open our door. His eyes were on my entrance and he visibly lit up the room with a smile.

“Do I smell…?”

“Indeed you do… your favorite.” With relish I presented him with the bag, delighted to see that he was alone.

“You are too kind.” Opening the bag he inhaled the contents, categorizing each scent that touched his sensitive nose. It was a game we played since his convalescence didn’t allow for him to stroll through London.

Reaching into my coat pocket I took out a small package. “Your brother bid me to give you this.”

“Excellent!” Holmes replied taking it from me. Hastily he undid the wrapping, revealing a small jewelry box. A quick glance inside and he smiled joyously, a rare vision I can tell you.

“What is that?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Would you be so kind as to lend me your left hand?” There was an impish grin at the edge of his masculine features, a hint as to the boy he still in many ways was being six years my junior.

Suspiciously I offered my hand to him. Out of the box came a simple gold band. He scrutinized the inscription before setting it on my wedding finger. It surprised me, to say the least. I didn’t think he would ever go for such a symbol of connection. “Holmes…” I breathed, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“It says, ‘My dearest.’” His eyes twinkled up at me as I moved to sit beside him. I didn’t trust my own legs to keep me standing for much longer.

“I had no idea you would…” I whispered, examining his token of affection. “Thank you!” Lightly I kissed his lips. My other hand hastily reached into my other pocket, taking out a similar jewelry box. I opened it and pulled out a more masculine ring. It looked much like any sort of ring a man of Holmes’ family would wear with a crest or a symbol for some fraternity. It was gold with onyx and moonstone set side by side. “It seems appropriate to give you this now.” I reached for his left hand but he substituted his right.

“You are more the marrying kind than I, the eternal bachelor. It would be best to use the finger they use in some European countries so as not to draw attention to my marital status.”

“Mycroft thought as much… he helped me find the perfect ring for you.” I took his right and slid the ring over his ring finger knuckle. It fit perfectly at the base of his finger. I liked the way the onyx and the moonstone looked together as if they were polar opposites. It helped that the onyx matched Holmes’ hair and the moonstone his grey eyes.

“Did he?” Holmes cocked his head to the side as if to appraise my words of his brother’s participation.

“And can I deduce that he helped you with acquiring mine as well?” I asked.

Holmes thought about it a moment before nodding. “He seems quite the cupid with this little chore. We shall have to write him another thank you note.”

I took his hand and admired the craftsmanship of the ring I had given him. “Yours is inscribed too. It says, ‘Beloved.’ So no matter where you end up in life you will know that you are loved.” For a moment I thought I caught a blush on Holmes’ cheek.

A knock at the door stopped our revelry and Mrs. Hudson looked in. “There is a lad named Chris Simmons here to see you Mr. Holmes.” She gave me the card to hand off to our favorite detective.

“Please send him in, Mrs. Hudson.” Holmes replied as if he had nothing better to do.

The lad that made an appearance was small. And yet he seemed to be perfectly proportioned. There was muscle upon his arm and thigh. A pair of green eyes seemed almost too large for his boyish face. His clothing was plain enough and he walked lightly into the room. “I’m sorry to trouble you, Mr. Holmes, but this is a matter of some urgency and I’m afraid I’m a bit desperate.”

“I can see that.” Holmes answered, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees as he often looked when intrigued.

“I haven’t a lot of money…” Young Simmons bowed his head, revealing a bit of strawberry blond under his cap.

“That’s perfectly fine. What is it that you need? Dr. Watson, would you be so kind as to tend to our guest’s wound? There’s a good fellow.” Holmes smiled me.

It was then that I noticed the cloth that had been tied around Simmons’ bicep. I approached our guest. “Please sit down.” I indicated the chair near where he stood.

Simmons’ eyes widened and he backed away. “I’m sorry but I can’t.”

“I’m a surgeon. I can treat you. Just let me have a look.” I coaxed him.

“Please… can I trust you?” He asked, staring up at me with those green eyes.

“Of course you can. Please rest assured, my dear that you can disclose anything you choose. We will not inform the authorities.” Holmes stated in a reassuring tone I often heard him use on the women who came to see us.

“Perhaps you would if you knew my secrets…” The lad bit his lip hard and shut his eyes. “I have a wife… she’s been taken.”

Holmes raised his eyebrows and nodded. “Indeed… that would be a desperate situation… and one worthy of reporting, but believe me when I say that neither myself nor my very dear Dr. Watson will report. Due to your unique circumstances, if you wish quid pro quo, I would be rather desperate if my Dr. Watson was spirited away as your wife had.”

Our guest seemed to think on his response. For a moment I tore my eyes away to glance at Holmes, wondering what dangerous game he was playing by hinting at our relationship like that. When I returned my gaze to our guest I noticed him unbutton his shirt with shaking fingers. Carefully the shirt was pulled down to reveal that the upper arm had been struck with a bullet. I chanced to glance at our guest’s chest and nearly jumped out of my skin.

Holmes laughed from where he sat. “I’m sorry for my companion, my dear. He was lured in by your very clever disguise. No one has ever guessed, have they?”

“No.” Miss Simmons replied. “I wear it to protect my wife’s reputation. She is a very talented singer… a soprano.”

Holmes leaned back, smiling. “You met her at the theater where you were a ballet dancer. Backstage you two fell in love but there were many rivals for her affection so you decided to live as a man so she could be seen as married and therefore unavailable.”

Miss Simmons smiled at him. “That is true. How did you know all that?”

“That’s unimportant.” Holmes waved it off.

“But if you can see through my deception to tell my circumstances…” She began.

“Don’t put me on the same level as everyone else. It is my talent to see every detail and come to a solution.” I knew she had hit on part of his vanity to be the only one clever enough to see through such a disguise.

“It’s not that, Mr. Homes. I know you’re the best at what you do… it’s just that… Part of me is constantly worried that Violetta and I will be found out and punished. I don’t worry for my own sake but hers. I would certainly take all the blame and claim that she didn’t know my true gender. But… the world doesn’t understand that two women can love each other so much that they wish to be with each other always. I’ve heard some claim that women don’t even have any desire.”

“I know rather well that women have desires and passion.” Holmes remarked.

“You do? How?” I looked at him.

“Just because I have no desire to ever be with a woman doesn’t mean I don’t know their passions. They are not the weak creatures many men take them for. They have ambitions and needs. Those needs are just as consuming as the ones we men feel. Besides, Watson you’ve been married. Can you honestly say you believe women have no needs?”

I thought of Mary… of her hopes and joys. She had strength about her. And when we slept together she had enjoyed it as I had. I tried to reassure her that it wasn’t a sin to feel good. And she took delight with me. Perhaps that is how it was so easy for me to accept Holmes as my lover. How could something that felt so right be bad? “Women are amazing, passionate, tender creatures.” I finished with Miss Simmons’ arm after pulling out a bullet. I dropped it in some water to clean off the blood before handing it over to Holmes.

Holmes took out his glass to study the bullet as our guest dressed. “But how did you know?”

Not looking up from his work, Holmes replied, “The back of your neck is pale because your hair is long and you often wear it down. You have the stature, musculature and walk of a female ballet dancer. Your indifference to being seen without camisole or corset suggests a life in the theater where ballet dancers and singers spend much time either in rehearsal or backstage. In close quarters, modesty is often ignored for sake of convenience. A reputed soprano almost always has plenty of suitors but she prefers your company to theirs. A way to be rid of their attention would to have her marry. This is all the more made convenient by the fact that you love her anyway. And a rival has shot you in a display of dominance, perhaps to try and pull her away from you.”

“You are correct.” Miss Simmons agreed. “One of the theater patrons has been rather persistent with his affections towards Violetta. But he is a lord and thinks he can have whatever he wants. Men like that often do…”

“Such disregard for your betters…” Holmes laughed a bit. I knew he was well aware of the dark underbelly of society.

“Well it makes me so angry and yet… I’m beneath him. I’m just a dancer and a women… for all I matter I may as well be a prostitute or a begger woman in his eyes. It’s just so frustrating that I have to compete against the likes of HIM because he has title and money.”

“You don’t have to compete.” Holmes stated gently. “You already won her heart fair and square. But in the eyes of the law he has far more going for him, especially since you are not a man and therefore cannot legally marry her… and the fact that female inverts don’t officially exist doesn’t help. Do you know the name of the patron who has stolen your wife?”

Miss Simmons nodded. “Lord Barrington.”

“I advise you to head back to the theater and keep an eye out for her return. When she reappears let me know. I’ll do some work in finding her abductor.”

“Thank you, Mr. Holmes. I’m forever in your debt.”

“Nonsense, my dear girl. However I shall enjoy watching you dance and your bride sing… if that could be arranged.” He smiled at the poor girl.

Miss Simmons gave a graceful curtsy. “Indeed.” Soon she departed and I watched Holmes watch the door.

I recognized the look on his face. He was eager to run off and find out as much as he could about a certain Lord Barrington’s habits. “Watson… I think I shall…”

“Oh no you don’t!” I replied hastily. “You’re thinking of going out and I absolutely forbid it!”

Holmes stared at me, somewhat scandalized. “You would forbid me to put into practice my talent? You would stifle me and leave that poor girl’s bride to that patron? Where are your sensitivities? Where is the adventurous Dr. John Watson who would go out on life and limb to rescue a maiden in distress?”

“Don’t give me that, Holmes!” I replied angrily.

Grabbing his crutch he stood up and hobbled towards our door. “I have a duty…”

I grabbed him by the dressing gown and used it to pull him from behind, wrapping my arms around his torso in restraint. “Don’t… Holmes, don’t go out there!” My forehead rested on his upper back for he was taller than me. “I have a duty too… as your husband I forbid it.”

“We are EQUALS, Watson. You cannot forbid me.” His own irritable self was at the surface, ready to ignore me.

“Please don’t make me twice a widower. Please understand that if you were to die again I don’t believe I would be able to… survive it.” Tears fell down my cheeks and I rubbed my face against the fabric of his robe.

Holmes turned around in my arms, wrapping his own arms around my shoulders and leaning into me. “Don’t cry…” His words were soft and gentle as his feathery kisses on my cheek.

“He’s shown he’s capable of shooting without remorse… I removed the bullet myself! In your condition you can’t move as easily. You need time to heal. Please, Holmes… My reasons are entirely selfish I know but I can’t… attend your funeral again. I really can’t.”

Pulling away, he went for the door and I watched him miserably. But to my surprise he locked it and returned to me. “I will have my Irregulars follow the lord for now. Lestrade can be trusted with helping to persuade him to part with the diva.”

“Thank you, Holmes!” I whispered.

Holmes pushed me to the couch and had me sit. Carefully he sat on his knees before me, between my legs. His long fingers began to undo the buttons of my waistcoat, followed by my shirt. He spoke not a word and I dare not interrupt his intent on undressing me. But never had it been done in the sitting room. I sat up to allow him to discard part of my clothing. Then he went to my trousers but not before taking off my shoes and stockings.

With the removal of my trousers I was completely naked before him. The firelight warmed my skin with its proximity. I blushed for very rarely he had seen me so clearly in daylight. His gray eyes flickered up at me as his chin dipped down. I watched in awe as he opened his mouth and consumed me. More often I consumed him for I enjoyed seeing the looks of passion flit across his face. It was during our love making that I knew for certain that Holmes really was a mortal man. More often than not I ended up inside of him and he was accommodating to my preference. When he took charge it was always so very slow and calculated as if he hoped to draw out our union until I was insane with need. My hips moved towards the edge of the couch, hoping to give him the hint that I wanted more, but he ignored the invitation. I reached down for him and his fingers caught my own, holding on, not allowing me to pull his head to me. “Please, Holmes…” I breathed.

Rather suddenly he picked up his pace and his mouth consumed me with more passion. I thought I would die and I did suddenly, hearing Holmes’ breathing catch before he swallowed my essence. Pulling off he kissed my member on the tip and then crawled up onto the couch to sit sideways with is back against the arm. I crawled over to him, lying down atop him. My hand reached down to his trousers to stroke him. After a few moments he gasped and clung to me, his member throbbing wetly in my hand. Recovering he kissed me. “You are… by far the finest man I have ever known, John Watson.” He managed between breaths. “But I think you are mistaken.”

“About what?” I asked, not really caring, just content to be with him.

“You have already survived one of my deaths. But I think if you were to die I would not survive at all. First I would destroy whomever had taken you and then… and then I would follow you. I can’t imagine how I would be able to function without you.”

My heart tightened just a bit, hearing his words. “How have you functioned before meeting me?”

“Not too well… but I had built defenses to keep everyone away so I could be self sufficient. When you joined me I lost those defenses… I’m quite hopeless without them.”

“I think you’ll manage.” I responded, my lips on his neck, under his ear.

Holmes wrapped his arms tightly around me, his face resting on my shoulder. “John… if I lost you…” His voice broke and I felt wetness against my neck. Quickly my arm wrapped around his head, holding him to me as I felt his body shake below mine. I closed my eyes, pained by his momentary show of weakness.

“It’s alright.” I whispered gently, turning my head to kiss his cheek. Holmes had been so young when we met, just barely a man. But he had never been to war or lost friends to horrible deaths. Nor had he lost a wife or child. I wasn’t certain if he was an orphan like myself but he at least had a sibling. “I’m here, Holmes…” What darkness must dwell within him that he trembled so fearfully at the thought of my death?

I stayed there a time, lying with him in front of the fire, holding him tightly as he trembled in some sort of darkness I couldn’t follow. For his worries had pushed him into one of his moods. As the fire died down I slid off of him and gently carried him to my own bed, laying him down within it. There was a distance in his eyes. Curling up with him I wrapped the bedclothes around us. “Come back to me, my love.” I whispered with my forehead against his in some sort of appeal. “I do love you… with all my heart. You are the most amazing person I have ever met and I write to please you… so that you may see how I see you.” My nose probed against his in askance for a kiss but he didn’t respond. His melancholy was beginning to affect me. “Holmes…” I sat up in bed, looking down at him. “Holmes if you have any love for me please don’t withdraw like this. It hurts to see you so…” Carefully I undressed him. “Damn it I’m here NOW! Can’t you just be satisfied that we are together right now?” His hands caught me unaware and he pulled me back down onto the bed onto my back.

Holmes rolled over on top of me, a spark of intensity in his eyes as he lifted my hips onto his thighs and pushed in. His movements were like one of a desperate man. Of what he was so desperate I’m not entirely sure but I held him to me as he took me with wild abandon. Over and over he thrust, clutching me as if I was a lifeline and he a drowning man. Eventually he strained and stopped. My arms and legs wrapped around him, holding him tightly as I felt my own body give. “Forgive my demons…” He panted against my shoulder. A chaste kiss followed as he rolled away.

I scooted over, resting my head on his chest, my hand on his belly. I could hear his heart beat and his breath whoosh into his lungs. The rise and fall of my hand with his diaphragm reassured me that he was there and living. Soon I fell asleep.

When I woke up the next morning he was gone and he was nowhere in our rooms.
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Six Weeks