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Paper Chase	By : varenoea Category: Titles in the Public Domain > Sherlock Holmes > Slash > Slash Views: 3926 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: This is a work fiction, based on the Sherlock Holmes series by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.

Chapter List
- 1-Paper Chase
- 2-Ch 2
- 3-ch 3
- 4-Ch 4
- 5-Ch 5
- 4
- 5
My last set of instructions was short and simple:

Beloved,

I know that at this moment, all you can think about are birds and bees. I assure you, it is the same with me! But walk right past the birds – that is, leave them to the left – and only pay attention to the bees. Then you can not fail to find me.

If, however, you should still think better of it and not want the favours I am offering you, just forget about the whole affair. This is my last letter; if you choose not to come to me after all, I will never trouble you again.

Yours secretly, and soon, I hope, physically.

I had to wait until evening before I could follow her last trace, but I racked my brain all day. I had harboured a certain suspicion all day: Birds and bees in one place could not possibly be at the zoo, or a similar place. It had to be a place with either metaphorical, or dead birds and bees. Dead birds and bees could only be found in a museum. There was the new natural history museum in Exhibition Road. It could not do much harm to begin there. From what I had heard, they had quite a big collection of insects.

It was raining again. But my eagerness was stronger than the fear of wet clothes. Instead of going home, I made a little trip to the museum.

I had not seen it from the inside before. It was late, and the light that came in from the sides of the ceiling was only dim. There were very few visitors walking through the central hall when I walked in, and most of these seemed to be heading out.

Suddenly I felt like I was being watched. I turned to find out where it was coming from. There was a silhouette pushing through the door, past the visitors who were going out. For a second I waited, but the figure hurried through the hall without paying me any attention. I shrugged.

A sign told me that the birds were to the left. My heart began to beat faster. Leave them on the left, and go to the bees. I followed the signs to the insect gallery.

From the corner of one eye, I saw a shadow as I walked down the corridor. I turned quickly, but it was gone before I could be sure that it had really been there. A feeling of trepidation came over me. Had Holmes been right all along? Was someone following me now?

I carefully stepped into the insect gallery, and tried to keep an eye behind me and the other in front of me. Damn, if Holmes had been here, he would have known how to do this. As for me, I only hurt my eyeballs.

Well, it might just as well be Holmes, who had followed me to keep an eye on me. I sounded like the kind of thing he would do. But if it really was Holmes, I told myself, I would not even have seen him.

My heart nearly skipped a beat when a shadow moved behind me. I turned around quickly, but the man now seemed to be very interested in a box of insects. This was becoming more and more uncanny. I began to regret that I had gone unarmed.

I walked along the glass cases, until I found one which displayed bumblebees and honeybees, drones and queens and worker bees.

Now I felt the presence of another body behind me.

”Holmes”, I said loudly, to shake the fear off me. “Stop this. It’s childish.”

Behind my ear, a voice rasped: “I wouldn’t do it if I were you.”

I began to grow angry. Nobody would push me around like this.

“Like hell I will”, I said, knelt down, and ran my hand along the wooden underside of the cabinet. A sharp kick pushed my arm away. I jumped to my feet and staggered two steps back.

The stranger followed me. His coat, cap and high collar hid nearly everything about him. “Go home, little man. You don’t want to get involved in this.”

I breathed deeply, and steadied my feet against the ground. “You are going to let me through to the cabinet this instant.”

My opponent simply stood there in silence. There was nobody else in the insect gallery.

I walked past him, but he grabbed my arm and pulled me away. His other arm took a hold of mine.

“Help!” I cried out. There were still people in the museum, somebody way bound to hear me.

I struggled against him until one of my arms was free, and threw my cane in his general direction. It hit him on the arm, and he let go of me instantly. I even heard him utter a loud groan.

Steps came from one end of the gallery, and an attendant appeared. While I turned my head to see him, the stranger disappeared down the other side of the hall.

“What’s going on?” gasped the attendant.

I caught my breath. “A man tried to… to pick my pocket”, I lied quickly. “Then he ran off, in this direction.”

“Hm. He could be out the door by now”, reckoned the attendant. “You wait here, I’ll have a look where he’s gone.”

As soon as the attendant had run off, I knelt down and ran my hand along the underside of the cabinet again. Then I looked, but the fact remained – there was nothing there save a little bit of glue, which looked as if there might have been a paper attached to it.

Well, of course. If somebody wanted me to leave the affair alone, why would they leave my next clue in place?

I walked around the cabinet, but the empty glue patch on the bottom of it told me everything I needed to know. My lady had written that if I would not find her after this last letter, she would never make contact with me again – and it looked as if my only chance to meet her was now gone forever. To think that she would take my silence for disinterest, when I wanted nothing more than to find out who she was! Why did I have to become infatuated with this dangerous wench in the first place?

I groaned; I considered screaming, but then told myself that it would only gain me unnecessary attention.

Filled with anger, shame and disappointment, I quickly walked out towards the exit, before the attendant would come back.

When I arrived at home, I found Holmes hanging in his chair, with his feet close to the fire. I was muddy and dirty, and not in a good mood. Fortunately, Holmes did not ask me any questions but accepted my silence.

Half an hour later I emerged from my room, dried and washed, and sat on the couch. For a long time I did nothing but to stare into the fire.

Holmes looked up from the book he was reading. “Are you…?”

“I’m fine.” I closed my eyes and hated him. What had started as a funny little riddle had turned out to be water which was much too deep for me. Whatever was behind all this, I would not figure it out. I could ask Holmes, but then, was it even worth finding out? It seemed clear as day now that there was not merely an infatuated lady behind all this. And for anything else I had no interest.

“I just need some sleep”, I said. “I don’t think I’m going to last long tonight.”

Holmes smiled, looked own and turned the page.

All of a sudden, I had the strange feeling that something was not as it should be. I could, however, not put my finger on it.

Silence fell over the room again. My swallowing was audible.

Holmes reached out and took two lumps of sugar – with his fingers, not the sugar-tongs, as he should. He dropped them into his tea, and picked up a spoon and stirred the tea.

“Tell me, when did you become left-handed?” I said, and in the same instant understood what was not as it should be.

“I’m not left-handed”, said Holmes and gave me a long, forbearing stare. “If I were left-handed, I could have used the sugar-tongs. I’m not, therefore I use my fingers, although I know you disapprove of it.”

“Why are you using your left hand then?”

“I’m comfortable, and I don’t want to move a quarter of an inch. I’m warm here, close by the fire.”

I leaned back. My blood began to boil. “I have a sudden craving you hear you play. Will you play me something?”

“Not now.” He turned away, towards the fire, and picked up his tea with his left hand. His right arm was hanging loosely down the side of the chair.

I got up and walked over to him. When I tried to face him, he turned his head away indignantly.

“Watson, you’re taking all the heat of the fire away. I said I like it warm.”

“But I would just die to hear you play now”, I said. I would give him all the heat he wanted, soon enough.

“I’m not here for your amusement”, he hissed. “Now step aside. It’s getting chilly.”

I leaned against the side of the fireplace, breathed out and told myself to be reasonable, despite all the madness that was taking place around me. After a long silence I said: “This is unworthy of you. Stop playing this childish game with me. Now show me your arm. I might have done some serious damage.”

“My arm is fine. It’s only a bruise”, he said, still staring angrily into the fire.

“And how would you know? Now show me.”

With the air of an irritated child, he got up and struggled out of his shirt. It seemed pretty clear that he could hardly move his elbow joint. When I took his lower arm into my hands and carefully tried to move it indifferent directions, he never once looked at me. The floor was obviously much more interesting.

“What were you doing there?” I asked, while I squeezed his upper arm to look for any serious damage to the muscles.

“Preventing you from doing something very stupid”, he said and looked at me. “How can you just follow the mating call of an unknown female, without even worrying if she means well by you? It might just have been a trap, set up by someone to harm you, or to abduct you and blackmail me with it. Who knows what might have happened if I hadn’t been there!”

I felt hot with embarrassment. I had been so proud of my story so far, and now I was being scolded – and probably rightly so. He had probably found out much more than I had.

“What do you know that I don’t know?” I asked.

He sighed, and did not answer for a long time. “Too much”, he said finally.

“It’s nothing bad. Really just a bruise”, I said. “I can bandage it, if you think that’s going to help.”

He shook his head, and all the while the feeling of something being wrong would not abate.

“But you’ve had plans behind my back a lot of times”, I said loudly, while forming the thought. “You never bothered to let me know about it. Why are you being so ashamed about this episode now?”

“I’m not ashamed.”

“You know something that I don’t know. Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s best if you don’t know. Trust me. Don’t you trust me?”

“Not at the moment, I do not, no.” I sat down and put my head in my hands. And while I scratched my scalp and tried to figure out if I was more embarrassed, angry or disappointed, I realized what had been wrong all this time.

“Watson?”

I drew in a sharp breath.

“I’m sorry if I can’t tell you more right now. You must understand, this whole affair might be too big for you to get caught up in it. Please, just trust me.” His voice was pleading now. “Why don’t you trust me any more?”

“Yes”, I said. “A huge affair. The whole thing. Wonderful.”

“Watson?!”

“Yes, that’s me. Extremely.” I got up. Now I knew which emotion prevailed: it was anger.

When I stood before him, he began to shrink. His shoulders hunched forward, and he crossed his naked arms in front of his chest – but it looked more like a gesture of self-protection than defence.

“The missing top button of my nightdress”, said very slowly. “Who would know about that?”

“Anybody who ever spent time in the houses on the opposite side of the street over the last few months, at bedtime”, said Holmes promptly.

“To see a missing button over the whole street? How?”

“With a telescope, of course.”

“Yes, yes. I suppose there could be a strange lady standing in a room on the opposite side of the street. With a telescope. And watch me go to bed. Sounds possible, but just a little unlikely, doesn’t it?” I found it very hard not to scream.

“It’s the only solution that makes sense”, he insisted.

“Well, there’s a much more simple solution, don’t you think? There are two people who get to see my nightdress. That’s Ms Hudson, who gets to wash it, and you.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Ms Hudson would never…”

I had never used physical violence against him, but now I hit him in the chest and pushed him backwards. Holmes did not put up a fight at all. He yielded.

“You are a scoundrel. What did you do it for?” His back had reached the book shelf now. I stared right into his eyes. “I would not mind you setting up a little riddle for me. In fact, it could be fun. But why, why did you have to knit it out of a love plot? You made a complete fool of me, and what’s more, an even bigger fool of yourself! Don’t you realize that you’re coming out of this looking like a complete ass?”

He swallowed.

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

He swallowed again. “I’m sorry. It was stupid. That is all I can say for myself.”

“Yes, it was stupid, and cruel it was too! You sent me on a quest and then sabotaged me, just as I was about to solve it? What is going on in your head? Was it too much for you that I could cope with these easy little riddles you had made up? Couldn’t you at least, at the very least, finish the game and acknowledge that I had won? Do you even begrudge me a triumph when I’m playing in the playground you set up for me?!”

He shook his head. “You have won. There, I said it. I don’t mind admitting it.”

“Then what’s the reason for all this?!” Now I was screaming at him. “Why did you keep me from solving the last bit?”

Then it struck me. There was only one reason left.

I said slowly: “You didn’t want me to find out the solution. Now I wonder: Why do you set up a riddle with a solution, but then keep me from finding it? Because you thought better of it, and you didn’t want me to know after all. But when you started the whole thing, I was supposed to find out.”

Holmes stared at the carpet and shook his head. “This is silly. It’s late. Let’s go to bed and talk about this in the mor…”

“It was you, wasn’t it?” I had a very bright minute. “It was your name, and our address.”

He knitted his brows together until they looked like one, and shook his head again.

I narrowed my eyes. “I know you too well. You act like a madman often enough, but there is always a reason behind it. If you make your name the solution, I’m supposed to make something of it.”

“Will you please let me go to sleep?” he said quietly. “I haven’t been feeling at all well lately. And it’s not helping that you are treating me like a criminal.”

“A criminal is what you are”, I said and slapped him on the chest with the bunch of letters I had collected. “For what you were planning to do, you might get up to two years.”

“Are you insinuating something??”

I breathed out again. “Holmes. If you don’t say it right now, I will feel impelled to break your legs.”

“I’d like to see you try”, he said and drew himself up to full height.

I stared at him. “Well, maybe not.” Then I turned around and walked towards the door.

When I laid my hand on the handle, I heard his pitiful, pleading voice.

“Watson! … please!”

“Yes?” I said coolly and turned around, but he just sat on the sofa, staring miserably in front of him.

“Can’t we just forget all this?” he asked, in a very small voice.

“No”, I said, shoved his shoulders into the back rest of the sofa and kissed him hard on his mouth. He had expected this. He just kept breathing around my lips.

I leaned back. “Wonderful. Now I know what it’s like to kiss a marble statue. It’s Pygmalion all over. Are you planning to lie back and think of England?”

Suddenly, a happy smile began to creep onto his face. He looked at me, and his eyes scared me. He was happy – not in the feverish way he was happy when he had an interesting case to solve, or the numb kind of happiness he sometimes found in his drugs. This kind of happiness was quiet, but glowing.

I grabbed the back of his head, and kissed him again, and this time he moved his lips against mine. It was then that I could not help laughing. I laughed against his baffled face, and laughed and laughed and could not stop.

“What’s so funny now? Do you find the way I kiss so hilarious?” he asked snappily.

“Why?” I crooned. “Why did you make it so hard? Did you never even think of some chocolates or a quiet talk?”

“I rather like my methods. They’ve brought me everywhere I wanted to get, so far.”

“Yes, and they brought you a hell of trouble, and a bruised arm, and they brought me a lot of unnecessary excitement and a lot of soaked underwear. Kiss me.”

He did, grudgingly, but he soon warmed up to my kisses.

“Well”, I said, “when I found out what kind of a person you are, I never expected to be able to keep my… versatility a secret from you for long.”

“No, you didn’t keep it for long, that’s true. But I held my mouth about it.”

“Yes, you do have these rare moments when you notice that just because you figured something out, it might not be wise to say it out loud.” I rubbed my nose against his. “But I never found out about your taste.”

“I didn’t want you to.”

“Oh yes. Sure. All these nights you spent out in the city, in dark pubs and who knows what other places – now I’m sure they were not all business trips.”

“I know how to get my share”, he said, with a little trace of pride. Then, when he saw my gaze, he added: “No, not what you think. I know places like the Chrysanthemum, and I go there often – but I’m not careless enough to do more than looking at these places. If I commit any perversions myself, I do it with reputable people, like you. Oh, don’t look like that, I never came close to Saffron, I swear it. I did her a favour a long time ago, this is how I made her acquaintance.”

“And let me guess. The Chrysanthemum wasn’t nearly as dangerous as you tried to make me believe.”

“These people aren’t stupid. They have somebody watching the street all the time, so that their customers still have all their money when they arrive at the door. Besides, I would never bring you in danger. Unless it is absolutely necessary.”

“I see. Your unconditional love and protectiveness nearly makes me swoon.”

“Can I undress you?” he asked.

I had not expected this to go any other way. “By all means.”

“Wonderful”, he said, and undressed me.

Later, when I made love to him, he was beneath me. But his hand was on top of mine, and held on so tightly that I was afraid he might break my bones. His lips were moving all the time, though he did not cried out, except when I bit him in the back of his neck a little too hard.

Never, not once in all the time we spent together, he said the words. But then, he was never a man who would state the obvious.

The End.
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Paper Chase