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“This is hopeless!” Holmes stormed into our flat and threw his hat and coat off to the side before slumping into a chair.
“There must be a way…” he muttered to himself. I, having been reading contentedly just a few moments before, was quite lost and thus attempted to catch myself up.
“Why, whatever is the matter Holmes?” I set my book to the side on Holmes’ sigh. My attention was now fully occupied elsewhere.
“You remember our suspect from the latest case, I presume?” Holmes barely bothered to pause before continuing, “I have been trailing him for some time now, it is imperative that I understand every aspect of his routine in order to have any handle on this case.”
“And that has not been going well?” I asked sympathetically. Holmes raised an eyebrow at the question.
“There is no use in asking questions with obvious answers Watson. But no, it has not been going well. The man’s whole evening on most nights is taken up by going where I cannot follow,” he grumbled, tapping his fingertips on the arm of his chair.
“Holmes, I am not in the business of reading minds, what is it that is making this so impossible for you?” I admit that some frustration had crept into my voice, as my detective had a way of being horribly vague at moments when I wished to understand him most.
“Very well,” Holmes began with a motion not unlike the rolling of one’s eyes, “Every other night on the weekdays he heads to a bar, a bar well known in certain circles to be one that panders to a clientele of homosexual men.”
I carefully restrained from showing any emotions on my face at this juncture, as I was not yet sure what Holmes’ thoughts were on the matter, and in these kinds of cases I had learned that caution was always necessary.
“One cannot simply walk in and listen to another man’s conversations undisturbed,” he moved on with little ceremony, “especially as I would be alone and a prime target for others to try and converse with. I simply can’t deal with those kinds of distractions while attempting to work!” On that note he flung one hand into the air despairingly before glaring at the carpet like it would provide him with the solution he sought.
A moment of awkward (on my end at least) silence passed before I attempted to speak.
“I- that is, can I… well, how can I be of assistance?” I finished with only the faintest sensation of heat in my cheeks. Holmes looked up, frowning, likely annoyed at having been disturbed in the middle of his thinking. Then, all of a sudden, his face lit up.
“You! Of course, dear fellow! My god Watson you are a genius!” he sprang from his chair and began to pace. I was more than a little confused at this point.
“I appreciate your kind words, but I truly fail to see what it is I have done,” I admitted.
Holmes turned to me with a sparkle in his eye.
“Don’t worry Watson, I will have you all caught up in no time at all!”
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The very next evening found me putting on the best clothes I could find, typically reserved for outings to concerts and the like. I felt entirely lost on how it had gotten to this point. What had I been thinking, agreeing to do this with Holmes of all people!? It was one thing to dream distantly of his touch and kind words, and quite another to have it pulled into reality but only as a ruse. However much I was dreading this, the inevitable could not be out off forever. I straightened my clothes one last time and then marched out of my room to face the music.
My strength lasted about as long as it took me to spot Holmes, who was checking himself in the mirror. My mouth had suddenly felt extremely dry, and I fought to keep a blush off my face. I had seen Holmes dressed up before, of course, but somehow this seemed different, more deliberate, and yet more personal.
And oh, the colours he wore. Bright and sunny and alive, reminding me of all his most happy, energetic moods. He was simply stunning.
“Are you…” my voice trailed of as Holmes turned to full force of his gaze towards me. I coughed and tried again, “are you ready Holmes?”
He threw me a smirk before replying:
“Now now John, it’s Sherlock tonight!”
There was no hope of me replying.
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“That’s our man” Holmes whispered in my ear, his breath tickling my hair. The man in question was at the table next to us, sitting and laughing with a group of several men. We were close enough to hear the conversation I’m sure, but all I could focus on was the warmth of Holmes’ body pressed up against mine as he leaned in our target’s direction.
One of the men at the suspect’s table shot Holmes a questioning glace, clearly noting him observing their group. Holmes frowned and pulled himself somehow closer by wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Do try to relax, John” he breathed. I looked down and noticed my fingers digging into my trousers. I forced them to release their hold, my face flushing even further.
“Really now,” Holmes reprimanded, “it’s like you’ve never done this before.” I blinked, almost whipping my head to face him and catching myself at the last moment. What on earth could he mean by that? Did he know? Or was he referring to close relationships in general?
“Have you heard anything of use?” I asked eventually, my voice nearly gave up halfway through when Holmes turned his attention to me, calling attention to how close our faces really were.
“Oh do be patient John,” was all he gave me before returning to focus to the suspect.
I could feel sweat beginning to form on the back of my neck. I was unsure how long I would be able to keep this up.
The tightening of Holmes’ hand on my shoulder pulled me back from my thoughts. I followed his gaze to a young man flouncing across the room, waving and greeting everyone but clearly headed in our direction. The exact kind of distraction my friend had been hoping to avoid.
“We shall have to make ourselves unavailable for conversation, I’m afraid,” the detective sounded almost apologetic, although for what I was not sure.
Until I felt his free hand come up to turn my chin towards him. I inhaled shakily as our eyes met. Holmes’ eyes narrowed minutely, then the next thing I knew, his lips were on mine.
I froze completely. Then absolutely melted, not a thought in my mind. This, this was what I had wanted so many a cozy night by the fire, after the thrill of a chase, while watching my friend be spectacularly intelligent. I wrapped an arm around him in return and resolved that no matter what happened after this, I was never going to let him go.