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Rating: PG
Characters: Holmes/Watson
Summary: Holmes and Watson have a conversation that settles a few things about their relationship, even if Watson isn’t entirely aware of it at the time.
Disclaimer: Holmes and Watson belong to Arthur Conan Doyle, and I’m nowhere near old enough to be him. It’s probably best for everyone involved that I can’t lay a claim to them in any case.
I had finally escaped the somewhat overzealous attentions of a young lady and retreated to a section of the hall that was shadowed by an ornamental curtain to observe the guests from a distance. The ballroom was ornate enough to leave no question as to my client’s wealth, but the garish colours and truly hideous, but undoubtedly hideously expensive, artworks lining the walls were clear indications of the wealth being a relatively new acquisition. Still, the mystery at hand was of enough interest that I would endure the unfortunate clash between the green tablecloth and the royal purple drapes, and the tedious conversations of the most vapid guests.
My attention was fixed on a hushed but furious conversation between three men who, if all parties I’d met during my investigation so far had been honest, had no business knowing each other, when a young couple danced too close, startling the trio into silence, and scattering them. As I rolled my eyes at the timing of the thing, I caught sight of Watson, buried deep in a gaggle of laughing party-goers. I had known he was there of course, but the look of him, smiling and waving his arms wildly at the climax of whatever tale it was, was an arresting sight; and indeed, he had the rapt attention of the entire group for reasons not entirely related to whatever story he was spinning for them. It was inevitable that he would spend the night surrounded; I couldn’t remember the last time we’d gone on any outing that involved mingling where a group hadn’t formed around him in minutes, hanging off his every word.
It may surprise readers of The Strand to learn that Watson has such a way with people; but let me assure you, his claim of knowing women on three continents is hardly an exaggeration and he captivates people indiscriminately, romantic interest in him or not. You must understand that Watson is an extraordinarily beautiful man with a broad, charismatic smile and an affable open nature.
I watched his face glow with pleasure as the horde clamoured for his attention, before the sting of jealousy made me avert my eyes and return my focus to the matter at hand. It wouldn’t do me any good to miss a vital clue because Watson was devastatingly handsome in a dress suit and everybody else had noticed.
I carefully redirected my attention to a member of the suspicious trio who was flirting with a pretty widow who had downed far too much champagne to turn down his advances and began deducing his habits and haunts, quashing the familiar worry that tonight would be the night Watson would catch sight of himself in the mirror and come to his senses, so that I would no longer have the pleasure of being the one to divest him of that well tailored ensemble.
For surely it was only a matter of time; I have the appeal of a circus freak show, in that I am fantastic for short term entertainment, but once the novelty wears off, there’s very little left of any interest. In the long term, I have no place with a man whose smiles I can feel in my knees.
As I scanned the party for the third man, I saw Watson carefully fend off the last and most persistent members of the throng around him and begin to wander in my general direction, and when he caught my eyes he pulled a face like a little boy escaping from his mother.
“One of the members of a curious group of men seems to have vanished.” I told him when he got with hearing range, and he grinned broadly at me.
“William Bowers?” he asked, smile widening further.
“How the devil did you know?”
He turned and gestured at a lady in a blue dress, who spotted us and waved back coyly.
“Ah,” I responded, “I don’t know whether to be pleased that your investigations were unusually successful tonight, or jealous as your lover.” It was already out of my mouth before I realised what I was saying, so I produced a light-hearted chuckle and hoped would take it as a joke.
“As if you can speak. I saw how that pretty brunette had you in her sights.” he responded glibly, but he couldn’t disguise the twinkle in his eyes.
“Nice try my dear friend, but I’m not fooled. You weren’t jealous of that… creature.” I murmured, deliberately affecting nonchalance by staring at my fingernails.
“It’s true, I know better than to think you’d be even the slightest bit interested in anything that giggles. I have far more cause to concern with the likes of that Adler.” he chortled merrily, and met my eyes with mock-seriousness. He was clearly tipsy.
“I hardly think you have the need or inclination to be jealous of anyone.” I replied, thrown by how immediate his reference to that woman was, upon the mention of romantic rivals.
“How’s that?”
Watson was clearly still in bantering mode, having missed the undercurrent of seriousness in my half of the conversation, but he was also obviously baffled by the notion, so I affected a light tone to match his.
“Well for one thing, you hardly need be worried that a lover would be dissatisfied with you; you are not only a fine English gentleman, but you are easily the most handsome man in this room, if not London, and extraordinarily charming to boot.”
“My blushes Holmes,” he replied, laughing merrily, “but that explains away the need; what of the inclination? If all that were half true maybe I wouldn't be inclined to worry, but it’s natural to fuss more over the possible loss of something that’s utterly unique and entirely irreplaceable, so even if I was London’s most eligible bachelor I’d worry over rivals for your heart.
Although he spoke in jest, his eyes were clear and guileless, and I realised that he was in earnest. The revelation that I needn’t fear him leaving me on a whim made me quite weak with relief, while the idea that he was also possessive of my attentions left me buoyant with happiness. It is quite startling to find that your lover loves you far less superficially than you had believed. This strange combination of emotions vied for dominance within me for a moment, before I gave in to the rush of giddiness they caused and began to laugh alongside of him.
When we left the party that evening, arm in arm (with all but the last few details of the case clear in my mind) I found the rush of triumph that usually followed the successful completion of a case had come early. I privately suspected that this had very little to do with the case, and a great deal more to do with the man beside me.
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Date: 2012-10-26 11:45 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-02 08:26 am (UTC)Anyway, long story short is, I didn't think this was he best fix of mime, so if you like crack I can finish that one up as a gift to you :)
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Date: 2012-11-02 11:21 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-11-02 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-26 12:23 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-10-26 02:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-26 05:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-26 08:54 pm (UTC)But of all the on-screen Watsons I have seen, I must say that Jude Law is probably the only one that would more universally fit the descriptions given by Holmes in this story. Then again, the eye of the beholder, etc.;)
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Date: 2012-11-03 01:34 am (UTC)I'm really glad you all liked it! Thanks for reading it and saying such lovely things.
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Date: 2012-10-26 10:38 pm (UTC)As for the rest:
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Date: 2012-10-26 07:30 pm (UTC)It wouldn’t do me any good to miss a vital clue because Watson was devastatingly handsome in a dress suit and everybody else had noticed.
The whole fic is thoroughly lovely, but for some reason this sentence just captured the scene for me: Holmes' wistful longing and worry. Thank goodness Watson was able to put his mind to rest (and indeed, I'm wondering if Watson was as tipsy as Holmes thought *g*) Wonderful job, Anon, thank you.
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Date: 2012-11-03 01:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-26 09:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-27 05:33 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-10-27 10:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 01:27 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-10-30 04:20 pm (UTC)I suspect that you're right. ;-) Nice work, Anon!
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Date: 2012-11-03 01:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-11-03 05:25 pm (UTC)I have the appeal of a circus freak show, in that I am fantastic for short term entertainment, but once the novelty wears off, there’s very little left of any interest.
Lol! Oh, Holmes, you have no idea!