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Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just borrowing things for a while and I promise I'll put everything back exactly how I found it when I've finished. Well, almost exactly how I found it. ;)
SH-SH-SH-SH-SH-SH
"Aggie."
Aggie froze, tears immediately welling up in her eyes, and she bit her bottom lip to stop herself from crying. The voice was the same, yet different. It was her sweet, shy plumber, but also the man known as Sherlock Holmes. She wanted to see him again, but at the same time she didn't.
"Aggie, please."
Finally, she relented and turned, her expression grim. "You shouldn't be here," she scolded him, finding it far easier to imagine him as Escott than Holmes. "If Stokes catches you, he'll thrash your hide, gentleman or not."
Holmes smiled thinly. "No doubt I deserve it. My treatment of you was…despicable. Unforgivable. Yet that is exactly why I am here. To apologise and…to…beg your forgiveness."
"You don't deserve it," Aggie told him fiercely.
"Your master was a monster, Aggie, surely you must realise that. He had to be stopped. It was the only way."
"Do you know something, mister? I never cared about Mr Milverton really, not in the least little bit, as long as he fed up and paid us. But you…." She shook her head. "It wasn't even you, was it? It was just…make believe."
Holmes took a quick step towards her, surprised at the pain that lanced his heart as she moved back from him. "No, Aggie, it wasn't." His voice softened and he looked downwards. "I wasn't lying…when I said you touched my heart. You did. I never believed it possible that any person could do such a thing, yet you managed it."
"Yeah, right," Aggie replied sarcastically, but there was something in Holmes' voice that made her wonder if her disdain was misplaced.
But Holmes continued relentlessly. "And I know you may not believe this, but…I…I do not…*did* not know…how…to…kiss." He was almost stuttering in a whisper, and without even thinking, Aggie cupped his chin and made him look up.
It was strange to her, staring into his face. On the one hand, he was Sherlock Holmes, gentleman with a funny name, sharp eyes, slicked back hair, and a very polished, aristocratic way of talking. Yet underneath all that, Aggie could see Escott shining through, shy, wary, scruffy hair, and a farmer's accent. The two men overlapped and merged in the oddest way until they were neither one nor the other, not separate, but integrated. And through all the haze, Aggie could see Holmes was telling the truth. The innocent quality that had shone from Escott also shone from the amateur detective.
"I had no right to do what I did to you, and I have never felt such remorse over my actions as I have done with this case," Holmes admitted quietly. "I never expected you to become so fond of me. I never intended for that to happen. And…if there was a way to make Escott alive permanently, I would have happily married you, Aggie. Because…you *have* touched my heart."
"Maybe if you get bored being a detective, you can put him away and be Escott," Aggie suggested with a bright smile.
"If that day ever comes, my dear, you shall be the first to know," Holmes promised.
Then Aggie put her hands on his cheeks, closed her eyes, and leant forwards to kiss him. "Now clear off, or I'll set Maximillian on you," she said when they parted.
"Yes, ma'am." Holmes turned and started to walk away, his lips still tingling from the touch of hers. "Aggie."
This time she looked up without hesitation. "Yes?"
"Give young Stokes a chance. He will love you and look after you far better than I ever could."
"Robert's not so bad," Aggie agreed. Holmes nodded, then continued departing. She watched him walk away, knowing she would never see him again, and murmured, "I can see you believe that, but I don't. Goodbye, my plumber." Tears started to stream down her face and she quickly ran inside. She never saw Holmes turn, his eyes glistening with unshed tears; he heard her words.
SH-SH-SH-SH-SH-SH
"Well?"
Holmes sighed. "Where is Watson?" he asked brusquely.
"I sent him on an errand," Mrs Hudson replied. "He won't be back for some time. Well?"
"I did what you sent me to do," Holmes said, avoiding her gaze.
"You wouldn't have gone otherwise, even though you knew you had to." Mrs Hudson stared at him. "Well?" she repeated for the third time.
Holmes heaved a sigh and his shoulders drooped. "I apologised. She forgave me," he told his landlady in a quiet voice. "She…kissed me. I've never been kissed like that before, with such tenderness…and love."
Mrs Hudson watched as Holmes sank on to the arm of the chair and stared out of the window before she went up to him. They were the same height now, and she could see the sorrow in his eyes. A little hesitantly, she patted his shoulder.
"There, there, Mr Holmes."
To her great surprise, Holmes reached up and covered her hand with his, then turned and rested his cheek against it. "Thank you, Mrs Hudson."
She could only stare in shock. "You're welcome."
"Mrs Hudson," Holmes said after a while.
"Yes, Mr Holmes?"
"This place is a mess. And I would like some fresh coffee." He kissed the back of her hand. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble."
"Even if it was, I would still end up doing it for you," Mrs Hudson replied, her tone one of long suffering.
Holmes flashed her a quick smile, and with that single action, all of his pain disappeared and he was once again the impossible tenant. "Now disappear, Mrs Hudson."
FIN