New Beginnings

Part 7

 

 

Mary Watson woke with the same queasy feeling she had been having the past two days, cautiously she sat up, the queasiness turned to dizziness and she lay back down slowly, her husband Dr. John Watson was currently not at home.  Watson’s friend Sherlock Holmes had requested his assistance on a case, this was not unusual and Mary didn't see any problem with him going. However once he arrived at 221 B Baker Street, Holmes whisked him away, with nothing more than a "Holmes requests I accompany him on case in Devon. Return 3 days time" telegram.

 

Mary had thought to protest but knew it would be useless, Holmes word was law, and John always abided by it.  They had been married only a short while when Holmes re-entered her husbands life. He had been a new person when that happened.

He was happier and more tolerant, and even at first more attentive to her needs. As time went by she grew weary of Holmes constantly demanding more and more of John's time.   Now that they were married just over two years, she was beginning to wonder if Holmes didn’t see more of John than she did. Just lately she had begun to complain. Since then John had grown almost apathetic to her.  That’s not to say that he didn't still pay her attention, he did, but not as often as she would have liked, and when telegrams and notes came from Holmes he seldom asked if he could go, he just went, leaving her to guess his whereabouts. Then his telegrams would come, some as curt as those Holmes would send, saying Holmes needed him for a day or two here and there and she would be on her own. I love my husband dearly but he is sorely trying my patience! He is due home tonight, I wonder if it will be the same old story, come home from a case exhausted, go right to sleep. Leave next morning very early home late. Well I can’t worry about that now I’m feeling so poorly. I better see Dr. Jessop today and get this cleared up.

 

Mary slowly sat up. So far so good.  She grabbed her night table and pulled her self to stand, her legs felt wobbly but the dizziness had passed. Thank goodness. She dressed slower than usual and made her way down stairs, thank god there was no cook, as breakfast was the last thing on her mind.   She put her hat on and ventured outside to hail a cab. Dr. Jackson only lived a few doors down but Mary had been seeing Dr. Jessop since her return to England from India and trusted him completely.

 

Dr. Jessop's surgery was a few miles away in Harley Street. Mary was lucky to get in to see him, as he was very busy even at the slowest of times. She gave her name and was told to wait. One hour later Mary was called in.

 

Dr. Jessop was a handsome man, yet old enough to be her father; he was always pleased to see her, as he had been a friend of her late father. “Tell me Mary what seems to be the trouble?”

 

She explained the troubles and after a brief exam her own thoughts were confirmed.  “I’d say Mrs. Watson that your problem should clear in roughly 7 months.” He smiled “Congratulations my dear.”

 

Mary beamed and hugged him tightly.  She and John would finally have the child they so desired.

 

Watson stretched and sat up, he looked at the clock above the fireplace and squinted .Hmmm  I think I need glasses. 9:35 am. That is a late hour to rise. Then again we did have a late night He smiled. Holmes had a little too much to drink and got a little wild, biting and scratching him all over, squeezing and grabbing him. They made love over and over throughout the night, each time more wild than the last. The final session was a near rape. Watson had fallen asleep only to be woken by Holmes. He had managed to turn him on his back and penetrate him. Watson stunned said nothing, perhaps it was a dream, but when Holmes had sunk deep with in him and began to rub that very special place as only a man can do he KNEW it was no dream. When he made a slight protest Holmes got rough. Watson was bruised and feeling sore, he rubbed at his wounded shoulder, which ached with old pain and throbbed with new.

 

Holmes lay in bed sound asleep, he had passed out after he had taken Watson, and he seemed to be sleeping the sleep of the dead, if not for the occasional snore Watson would have worried.  He watched Holmes sleep and debated if he should wake him. He decided it would be best to let him sleep.  Watson dressed quickly and went for a brisk walk, the morning air was fresh and the scenery was breathtaking.  He lost track of time as he rambled about and before he knew it had gone half past twelve. He made his way back to the cottage to find Holmes sitting in the modest sitting room sipping tea.

 

“Ahh Watson so nice of you to join me for tea.” Holmes was tone was caustic.

 

“What have I done to upset you?”  Watson sat in the chair next to Holmes; he reached for his hand and sucked at the fingers then lightly kissed his palm.

 

“You could have left a note you know I thought you had left me here alone!”  Holmes was now demure; he could change moods faster than the changes in the English Weather.

 

Watson patted his arm, “I’m sorry I should have left a note, I thought you’d be asleep for hours. I did think I would be back before now.”

 

Holmes sprang to his feet. “Never mind old fellow we must pack and make our way back to London.”

 

Watson nodded. “Well at least the case had a successful conclusion in the end”

 

“Always in the end dear Watson “ Holmes winked and the both shared a good laugh.

 

Watson went to the little bedroom and packed quickly, though there wasn't much to pack as he only had a change of clothes and nightshirt.   Holmes brought everything else they had needed.

 

They took one last look round and smiled, Holmes giving Watson a quick kiss in the doorway before making their way to the station.

The journey home was a silent one, each man deep in thought. Holmes was melancholy as always when he needed to part from Watson. He wished desperately for the old days when home meant their home.

 

Watson was preoccupied with thoughts of both Holmes and Mary. He found himself wishing for a simpler time and wondered what would happen when he returned to London. How much longer can I continue this?  Every time I leave Holmes my heart breaks, I want desperately to be with him.  And yet when I go home to Mary I feel guilty. She has been a wonderful wife; she has made very little protest. I know I am taxing her patience greatly.  My feelings for her have changed; I feel for her more as a dear friend than a wife, surely she deserves better.  When the train makes its final stop it will by another rushed goodbye to Holmes as I dash off to the wife. How I yearn for the simple days, when my only worry was what game Holmes would play. Seems odd how at those times I only wanted what I have with him now, the loving relationship no games just total acceptance. Why did that come only after I made vows to another?  Why were we BOTH so blind that we could not see?

 

Watson drifted to sleep; he slept until they reached their final destination.   London and home.