Part 3
Holmes awoke with a splitting headache; cautiously he pulled himself to a sitting position THIS is not good. He rested his face in his hands and tried to wipe away the aches. He tenderly swung his legs off the bed and attempted to stand. No good, every movement seems to illicit a negative response. He sat back down, but soon had no choice but to rush to the basin as a wave of nausea washed over him and was replaced with a fit of violent heaving. When the 3rd bout passed, he poured some water from the jug on to a hand and ran it along his face. Just how much did I have to drink last night? Looking in the mirror he stuck out his tongue which felt as dry as the dessert. Looking around Holmes saw the two empty wine bottles lying on the floor and the empty brandy bottle on the nightstand. What ever possessed me to drink so much? He sat in on the bed and closed his eyes; the pain in his head seemed to ease. A knock came at his bedroom door, though it was a light knock it sounded more like a loud thumping. Or is just the pounding in my ears? “Co” He cleared his throat and coughed “Come in “
When the door creaked opened slowly, young blonde woman peered in, he remembered now why he had drank so much. “Is there a problem Mrs. Watson?”
“I am sorry to bother you Mr Holmes, but I thought you would want to know that Dr.Preston is in with John now.” She smiled politely and with a slight bow she backed out of the room.
Why does she have to
be so polite?
Several moments later Holmes emerged from his room looking worse for ware. Mary sat upon the sofa fidgeting with a lace handkerchief, obviously worried. Holmes came to sit across from her. “Thank you for letting me know the doctor was here.” He tried to smile, but every thing hurt. “I trust you slept well? Was what he said when he was really asking was did you sleep with him in MY bed.
“Yes thank you, the arm chair is quite comfortable. Every movement in bed seemed to bother John “ She sighed
Before Holmes could reply Dr.Preston opened the door and invited them into the room.
Watson sat in bed with a miserable look, the bandage on his head had been removed revealing a small wound, and his bare shoulder looked swollen and was covered in abrasions. An ugly purple bruise ran f ran from his shoulder to his neck and slightly down the back completely covering the scar marking the war wound. Mary could hardly look at him, and Holmes just grimaced as he saw the full extent of the shoulder injury.
“It could have been worse, his head could look like his shoulder, in which case we would be making funeral arrangements,” Dr. Preston said bluntly. He redressed the head wound with a smaller bandage. “He should stay put for another few days, then can be moved home. It’s essential that for the time being the shoulder be kept as motionless as possible. I will be back Friday to re examine him. If any problems occur call on me immediately or get him to hospital.” Dr.Preston closed up his medical bag. “Continue with the morphine as needed, but do not exceed 5 doses in any one 24 hour period.” He handed Holmes 3 vials of morphine on his way out. “Good day to you both”
Mrs. Waston walked Dr. Preston out, Watson watched as his wife disappeared out the door. “Holmes are you alright, you look like I feel” Watson motioned to Holmes with his good arm. Holmes drew nearer the bed and reached out a hand and gently stroked Watsons face. My dear Watson, more concerned for me than for you. He leaned over and kissed Watson on the forehead. “I had a bit much to drink last night, I’m a bit.” He paused and dramatically waved his hand “Hung over. I’ll survive.”
“I’m sorry Holmes, it can’t be easy for you having Mary here.” Watson stroked Holmes back with his good hand
“We haven’t done bodily harm to one another…yet." They laughed; Holmes placed his hand on Watson's chest and gently ran his thumb over the nipple. Mrs.Watson came in to the room just before Holmes could passionately kiss Watson and he mumbled a rather undignified curse. Watson chuckled and lightly whispered, "I have to talk to her about her timing" Holmes was not amused.
Mary looked at them puzzled, "What are you doing?"
Holmes leapt away from Watson; "I was just helping him with his shirt."
"Oh I see, then why is it on the chair?" She pointed to the neatly folded shirt.
Holmes looked over to where she pointed. "Ah, I was practising to see which would be the best way to help, I don't wish to aggravate the injury." He looked down at Watson who was stifling a laugh. "Isn't that right Watson?"
"Yes Holmes quite. " he bit his lip so not to snicker, thankfully his face was blocked from his wife's view.
Mary brought the shirt to Holmes. He carefully assisted Watson in getting dressed, and hurriedly left the room.
"Is he alright? He looks unwell." She inquired
"He's fine, just a little shaken about all this. I know you will find this hard to believe but he feels guilty for what has happened. He was just apologising when you came in, he was just to embarrassed to admit it to you." Watson shifted uncomfortably.
Mary nodded. He's right I do find it hard to believe. Though he did look a trifle embarrassed, perhaps even guilty. Well we are alone I think I shall take this opportunity to spring my news on him.
"John.. I don't know if this is the right time or place but I have something I really must tell you." She sat in the chair by the bed and took his hand.
From the seriousness of her tone Watson thought the worst." What is it? What's the matter? You can tell me love." He squeezed her hand reassuringly.
Her eyes searched his face; he was genuinely concerned his eyes spoke volumes. "Oh it's not bad, at least I don't think so." She shyly lowered her head. "I'm pregnant." There I've said, it's out in the open! She watched him carefully.
Watson was dumbfounded; he had no idea how to react. Oh god.. How the hell am I gonna tell THIS to Holmes. He'll get all jealous. He won't react well at all. Still the thought of a child, a son.. MY SON.. Watson beamed broadly. "My son the Prime Minister"
Mary kissed his hand, as she placed it on her stomach, Watson kept it there for a while along with the grin. "John.. It could be a girl"
He looked at Mary thoughtfully, "Yes. I hadn't thought about that.Well.. My daughter the doctor then." Mary frowned. "What happened to being Prime Minster?"
"Well nothing really It's just a female Prime Minister, it will never happen. Face it Mary there are something's a woman simply can not do."
"Really? Tell THAT to the Queen!" Mary looked at her husband sternly
Watson rolled his eyes. He KNEW the look on her face meant that she was ready to resume the "women can do anything men can do " argument. Watson was simply not in the mood for it. "Yes dear" He pulled her close and kissed her, much to the chagrin of Sherlock Holmes who at that moment walked into the room.
Mary stood up and smiled warmly at her husband. "I have an appointment I will return later."
"Oh Please do" Holmes said dryly.
Mary ignored him and blew Watson a kiss, which he did not return. And with that she was out the door.
"Holmes you were positively rude!" He sounded annoyed.
Holmes approached the bed and down gently. He leaned forward to kiss Watson but he turned away. "I'm sorry Watson I didn't mean to be rude to her." He tried again and again Watson turned away. Holmes was puzzled. "Have I done something to upset you?"
Watson faced Holmes and gazed deep in his eyes, he saw fear and confusion. Though Holmes would never admit it, he always needed reassurance that Watson loved him even when being difficult. Watson smiled and stroked his face "No. I'm just tired and uncomfortable, I think I need an injection of morphine." This is not the time or place to tell Holmes about the baby, I will tell him, just not yet.
Holmes nodded "I really don't mean to be rude to her, I just get…"
"Jealous" Watson finished the thought, and Holmes looked mortified. "Watson never upset a man who is about to inject you"
"Holmes never forget I love you"
Friday arrived without incident, Holmes managed to stay clear of Mary, and she for the most part tried to stay out of his way. When Dr. Preston called late in the afternoon both were relieved he said it was time Watson attempt to get out of bed and be up and about. However Holmes felt a wave of sadness as this meant he would be leaving, going back to his domestic bliss, leaving him alone again.
Mary had packed all their belongings save one of John's nightshirts. "I think I'll go home tonight and get things ready I'll come back tomorrow morning and get you if that’s alright with Mr. Holmes?" She smiled at her husband who now sat in his armchair by the fire.
Holmes looked at her with some surprise" That’s fine one more night in Watsons old room won't hurt me" He gave a crooked smile and helped her down with the bags.
As they stood there she watched as he eagerly hailed a cab, and decided to ask a question "You'll miss John when he's back home won't you?" But it sounded more like a statement.
Holmes tired to ignore the remark but she would not be put off so easily, "You will miss John, when he is back at home. Why don't you stop by sometime?" Holmes sighed and was about to make a rude remark when the cab stopped. He put her luggage in and assisted her in, gave the driver the address and went back in before the cab had driven off.
Closing the door Holmes sighed
with relief. I have my Watson home and to
myself again, even if for one night.