lightconductor: (Default)
[personal profile] lightconductor
This is a follow-up to this thing Rachelle and I have been carried away by which follows the return of Holmes and Watson to their own time after having escaped/released/whatever from the resort. Big chunks of what happens here is pretty much what happens in The Adventure of the Empty House, including the Catallus (idek), but hey, why mess with a classic?




He thought it must be the Catallus that kept that chance encounter in his mind.

It had been two years. Two years, and there had been no further word, and if Mycroft Holmes had heard any rumours of interest, he had not passed them along. John Watson was relatively certain that any sane man would have long since given up, but he was clearly not sane, at least in this respect. He had, years ago, compared himself to Penelope waiting for Odysseus; that had quickly become far more apt than he liked to admit. Sherlock Holmes was, in all probability, dead. He would not come home. If Watson had any sense, he would try to get on with his life, stop living in the past, perhaps remarry.

Perhaps not. It was painful to think very hard about marriage again, at this point. He was just grateful that his acquaintances concluded that reluctance on his part was due to his very great love for Mary. A more apt comparison, if one kept to the Greeks, was perhaps Achilles after the death of Patroclus.

As it was, he found himself reading over the headlines in the newspaper, thinking of how much Holmes would have loved this Adair murder, were he here. It had every peculiarity and impossibility that would have attracted his attention. Even a moderately sane man would have left that thought and not followed up on it, but no, Watson had found himself hanging about outside the crime scene, listening to some foolish amateur spout off some utterly ridiculous explanation, and wishing he could have seen inside for himself.

And that had been when he'd realised how pathetic he was being.

But the man he had bumped into as he turned away, that gnarled old book-collector who had snarled and snapped at him as they both stooped to pick up the dropped and scattered books he had been carrying, that stayed in his mind. There was no reason for him to spend any particular thought on it at all. It had been the Catallus, Watson thought, that was the reason for his preoccupation.

He knew Catallus, after all. And who in the world could be prepared to face a book of Latin romantic poetry, which was often lewd and often involved two men, dropped nearly on one's feet when not moments before one was musing melancholically on a very similar illegal liason which may or may not still even be relevant?

It was nothing but coincidence, of course, but it shook him just the same.

Trying to forget the entire incident, Watson made his way back to his home, feeling haggard and tired, and for the moment glad that his practice was relatively quiet. As he sank down into the chair in his office, he pressed his hands against his face, telling himself that he felt nothing, because that was easier. He would spent the afternoon there, perhaps doing some writing -- he hadn't decided -- perhaps just trying to clear his mind.

Watson sighed, and reached for his pen, and some foolscap, and began scratch away.

Date: 2010-09-27 12:16 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Yeeeah I don't think so.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
Holmes does not actually intend to run into Watson.

He's just left the telegram office, actually, and is canvassing the scene of the crime that he knows was conducted by Moran. It's sheer chance that as he glances over the building, his eyes fall on a solitary figure, standing still and staring up at the very same thing. He is not prepared.

He knows Watson instantly. He knows Watson from all angles, every angle, has memorized him, and has even memorized his clothes. He's obtained some new articles, but they're nonetheless so clearly Watson that it's like they're not new at all. He is not prepared. He almost feels struck, either across the face or in the gut, maybe both, and suddenly his lungs constrict and it's like he's lying on a scratchy bed in Tibet with bandages wrapped around his middle.

He has been dreaming of this moment, to be sure, but he's gearing up to it, planning to drop in on Watson at his office, and not to run into him in the street. They can't reunite in the street, not when Holmes's first impulse will be to take him and kiss him until they must steal the air from each other's lungs to avoid passing out. But he cannot simply walk away and pretend as if he has not seen him, cannot merely step away from Watson and carry on about his day, or even tail him to his office.

He has to go up to him.

There is but one acceptable way to do it.

It's easier to avoid embracing Watson and getting them both thrown in jail when he's in the character of this old bookseller, though he is rather grateful for the books he's carrying; they were an assortment of books that merely amused him, but as Watson hands him Catallus, he's struck by the coincidence. He has to remind himself not to smile, not to give himself away, which ends in him scowling and snapping at Watson as he shuffles away.

Holmes tarries; he goes to Baker Street, gives Mrs. Hudson a heart attack. It's good preparation, a dress rehearsal for Watson, and he allows himself time in his old rooms to collect himself, to gather his strength, to quiet the questions in his mind.

What if he doesn't love you anymore? What if he's married again? What if he doesn't remember at all?

It's too dangerous to walk about the streets without a disguise, so Holmes dons the old bookseller getup again as he sets out, and he uses that time to make his plan. He's so nervous he nearly feels ill, nearly wants to eject the tea Mrs. Hudson so excitedly made for him. It's then that he decides.

He will make this into a performance. He will make this into the big reveal of the final act, and he will turn his nerves into stage fright. He knows how to handle stage fright.

He knocks on the door, passes his word on to Watson's maid about his business, and he whispers to himself advice from the stage. Head up, project, don't forget to breathe. The maid steps away and Holmes steps in, hunched, cradling the books in his arms, and he tries not to allow his emotion to show on his face.

"You're surprised to see me, sir," he says, half to play his part and half to diminish some of his nerves by having a little joke with himself.

Date: 2010-09-27 12:35 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Reading. Researching. With papers.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
Of course Watson is so interested. Of course Watson immediately abandons his work. He loves Watson so fiercely in this moment that it makes it difficult to continue; he steps forward, throwing himself into the role, forcing his words to come out in a rush. He's impatient, but the scene must be carried out.

"But you see, sir, that is exactly it. You have already paid me a kindness today, and I was not very kind in return, and when I chanced to see you step in here, I thought I should drop by and apologize for my gruffness earlier. I was thinking, you see, and then your shoulder interrupted my thoughts, and I don't take kindly to having my thoughts interrupted. That is a personal defect of mine, sir, and something that such a kind gentleman as yourself should not have to suffer for."

His throat is getting a bit tired of this act; soon, soon, his entire body seems to be screaming, and he steps closer still, reshuffling his books in his arms.

Date: 2010-09-27 12:50 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Do you have it yet?)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
"Do you know, sir, that we are neighbors?" He gives a funny little laugh to ease his tension. "Yes, I have a little bookshop at the corner of Church Street, and you can be certain that you are welcome at any time. Oh yes, sir. Do you collect? I have in my hands some volumes that may serve you very well, yes, let's see..." He sets his books down on Watson's desk and glances at the titles. He plucks one from the pile to press it into Watson's hands, his blood rising as he gets closer to what he knows will be the big reveal. Lights up; the music slightly louder.

"Here's British Birds, and Catallus, and The Holy War -- yes, I believe with these and a couple more, you could fill up that gap in your bookshelf, just there. It does look a bit untidy, as it is, a bit empty."

This is it. He fears he was nearly shaking as he passes Catallus to Watson -- how could he resist? -- and now he definitely fears he'll mess up the removal of his costume in the interval he will have very shortly. His arms are empty now of books, which is convenient, and he must be as quick as he can.

He can't breathe.

Date: 2010-09-27 01:20 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Silence please. Three pipe.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
As soon as Watson turns his head, Holmes is quick to do away with his disguise; thankfully it's a fairly simple one, and despite his fear, he even has a moment to smooth his hand over his hair, and then Watson is turning around again and then their eyes are meeting, and this time Watson is seeing him and not some decrepit bookseller--

And then Watson faints.

Holmes stands still a moment longer, drinking in the sight of Watson perhaps a little selfishly, and then he launches into action retrieving brandy and kneeling before Watson in his chair. All the while, however, he can't help but field a small amount of satisfaction. He's made Watson faint twice. There has to be some kind of twisted honor in that.

These thoughts dissipate, however, as he settles in front of Watson, when he can begin to feel the warmth of his legs press against his chest, and he gingerly reaches a hand up to Watson's face. Gently, reverently, he draws his fingers along Watson's jawline, tracing fingertips down his neck, settling down on his shoulder. Fear seizes his stomach once again.

What if he doesn't remember?

"Watson," he says, his voice tight and dry; he tries again. "Watson, my dear boy, my dear... Watson, really, you do make a scene."

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 01:49 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 02:18 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 02:37 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 02:56 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 03:19 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 03:37 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 04:06 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 04:26 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 05:06 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 05:16 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 05:53 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 06:11 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 04:21 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-27 04:48 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-28 01:23 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-28 02:34 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-28 03:22 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2010-09-28 03:59 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Unbuttoned. Sexy hands. Oh Watson...)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
At this, he chuckles quietly, turning his hand so that he can link his fingers with Watson's.

"Perhaps that is the reason the police are so often in need of our assistance. They are too respectable to do the job properly." He draws on his cigarette, then turns his head to kiss softly at Watson's neck. "I am more than happy to enlist the services of my very ungentlemanly nature if that is the case. It is nice to know that I can put it to such good use."

He leans up to put out his cigarette, and then smoothly returns to Watson's side, kissing at his ear this time.

"Of course your respectability is a farce. I knew that from the moment I first met you. You may fool other people, but I have never had much trouble looking through your attempts at acting, my dear boy," he says very softly, very warmly.

Date: 2010-09-28 04:24 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Unbuttoned. Sexy hands. Oh Watson...)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
He smiles because it's impossible not to; he shies away from such direct statements of love, never quite sure of himself enough to say them. That may sound foolish, but he is the brother of the man who prefers to spend all his day in silence, half the time alone, rather than deal with people. Such intimate revelations are not Holmes's strong suit, have never been, even when he was young and with Gideon.

"No, you haven't, actually. You were very close to needing to purchase flowers for me to make up for what was becoming quite a sore ego." He's teasing, naturally, as he hardly ever says the words himself; he slides his hand into Watson's hair and kisses him, a continuation of the kiss Watson has just given him, leaning into it.

"I love you," he adds, his voice hushed.

Date: 2010-09-28 04:58 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (OOC can't read my p-p-poker face)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
"And it is not about to end," he returns in a murmur, running his finger down the neck of Watson's waistcoat until he arrives at the buttons, which he proceeds to undo. "Though it is about to turn its nose up at respectability." He kisses Watson's hair and dips his mouth down to his neck, giving his skin a slight nip.

"I promise I am not a dream, by the way. Dreams are never this satisfying." He pushes Watson's waistcoat over one shoulder and passes his hand back over Watson's chest. "You never feel this real. And usually there is always something to spoil it. Some nonsense case or occasionally some Irregulars come to deliver news." He breaks into a smile here, unable to help himself. "And, do you know, prostitutes appear in my dreams from time to time, but only so that I may shoo them away. They really are quite the distraction."

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-28 05:12 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-28 12:13 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 12:38 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 01:12 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 01:52 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 02:25 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 02:50 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 03:37 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 04:46 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-09-29 05:19 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-02 05:09 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-02 06:30 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-02 11:28 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 01:10 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 01:31 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2010-10-03 01:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com
Mycroft had been waiting, hoping that brother of his was not running too late, and passing the time by watching the traffic in the street from the window, amusing himself by working out what he could see about the pedestrians. He'd seen his guests arriving, of course, and was ready for them.

"Sherlock," he greeted them, coming away from the window. "Dr. Watson. Do come in, have a seat. Let's not wait for luncheon to get cold."

They both looked so nervous. Nervous, and exhausted, and... well. Fortunately, this amused him. He had every intention of demanding one or two answers from his brother over the course of the meal, but for now... he was mostly just amused at the state the two were in.

Date: 2010-10-03 02:31 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Grin. Hat.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
"Mycroft," he says, trying to sound cool and collected but inside his nerves are tumbling over and over in somersaults in his stomach, and he follows after Watson, stopping behind his chair.

"I see you have acquired a new chef since I was last in London." He gives his brother a slightly challenging smile before he sits. He knows no other way to begin a conversation with his brother besides these observational games, particularly when he hasn't spoken with him in so long, and particularly when he is nervous about what other things his brother may be noticing about him.

Date: 2010-10-03 02:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com
Completely unsurprised at his brother's deduction, as he knew perfectly well how he had reached it, Mycroft sank down into his own chair rather heavily. "I have," he concurred. "French, and rather good. One must allow oneself these little indulgences, after all."

He picked up his fork and helped himself to a mouthful before he countered Holmes's deduction with one of his own. "I see you've managed to get yourself seriously wounded on your travels. I suppose you'll blame that for your failure to stay in contact?" Mycroft wagged his fork reprovingly. He was quite certain that the good doctor already knew of it -- judging from the way these two looked, whatever they had been doing last night was not sleeping.

Date: 2010-10-03 03:06 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Hmm. Okay so.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
Holmes is not very hungry, but he can attempt to eat, at least a bit, so he starts. He can't say he's surprised that Mycroft would've noticed; he does seem to carry himself a bit more stiffly now, though he likes to think that he is getting better with time.

"Moran believed he had killed me when he wounded me, and I was not very interested in revealing the truth to him." He pauses to chew his food, battling off his shyness. This is his brother. Why is he feeling so ridiculous? Suddenly he's grateful for Watson's presence even more.

"I have spent some time in Tibet recovering. You have been working harder at keeping the British government alive lately; when you chance to take a holiday, I highly recommend the area." Not that he ever thinks Mycroft would take a holiday or leave London. And, really, it's not like Holmes is very different. The word 'holiday' is almost irritating in and of itself.

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 03:28 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 03:55 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 04:12 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 04:49 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 05:00 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 05:20 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 05:31 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 05:57 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 06:06 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-03 06:35 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-03 04:49 pm (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-04 12:39 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-04 12:49 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-04 01:00 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-04 01:08 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-05 12:16 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-05 01:02 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-05 02:08 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-05 02:37 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-09 02:42 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-09 02:57 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-09 03:24 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [identity profile] thebritishgovt.livejournal.com - Date: 2010-10-09 03:37 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-09 04:21 am (UTC) - Expand

Date: 2010-10-09 05:10 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Hmm. Okay so.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
Holmes assumes that the inability to touch or display affection for Watson will become easier with time, but in the moment -- and particularly as a result of their reunion -- he finds it incredibly difficult to go any length of time at all without needing to indulge his desire to touch Watson in some way or another. He was rather grateful for Watson's thigh against his own during the cab ride, and he is anxious to get inside their sitting room.

He breezes past Watson on his way into the room, heading straight for the windows so that he can close all the curtains.

"I am glad to hear it, Watson," he says, businesslike. "For me, England has always equaled Baker street. If I could not have returned here..." He pauses, thinking for a moment. "I'm sure I would've felt lost." All the curtains now closed, he turns back around, approaching Watson slowly.

"What had you expected to be difficult?" His voice is softer now, as is his expression.

Date: 2010-10-09 05:34 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (Unbuttoned. Sexy hands. Oh Watson...)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
He settles his hands on Watson's shoulders, and he lets Watson have his light kiss, but then he slips a hand into Watson's hair and deepens the kiss, making up for all the lost time that he has not been able to kiss Watson. He smooths his hands back down onto Watson's arms, pressing their bodies very close.

"Of course it would, my dear Watson. This is where you belong," he says with enough certainty to imply that Watson should've known that all along. "It is all that time in between the island and now that didn't fit."

Date: 2010-10-10 03:50 am (UTC)
mustbethetruth: (I'm awesome. Cigarette.)
From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth
"A splendid idea." He slips an arm around Watson's back and keeps close to him as he guides them toward the couch, leaning over to kiss his cheek and jaw tenderly. "Is it shameful that I think I require some time doing very ungentlemanly things to you after we spent so long at lunch with my brother?"

He settles onto the sofa, holding onto Watson's hand and gently pulling him down to join him.

"How did you find lunch, by the way?"

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-10 04:41 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-10 05:21 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-11 01:45 am (UTC) - Expand

(no subject)

From: [personal profile] mustbethetruth - Date: 2010-10-11 04:01 am (UTC) - Expand

Profile

lightconductor: (Default)
lightconductor

September 2012

S M T W T F S
      1
23456 78
9101112131415
161718192021 22
23242526272829
30      

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 21st, 2017 02:39 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios