"Threshold" (Rated G, H&W, H/W), January 2019 Holmes Minor Monthly Prompt

[gardnerhill.livejournal.com]

Title: Threshold
Author: gardnerhill
Form/Wordcount: 500
Characters/Pairings: Sherlock Holmes & John Watson, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Rating: G
Warnings/Content:  None
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has opened more than one door for John Watson.
Author’s Notes: For the Holmes Minor January 2019 prompt: Opening a Door.

***

"Mr. Holmes, I can let myself in!" The thin brown ill-looking man in ill-fitting civilian clothing, whose strength was wholly engaged in hobbling up the stairs and lugging an Army rucksack behind him, belied that comment with his entire being.

His new flatmate smiled and set his hand to the doorknob at the top of the second staircase. "Pooh-pooh, Dr. Watson, it's more efficient this way."

*

"Brilliant work, Holmes!" Watson laughed, his arms bearing rolls of sumptuous Persian carpeting that were the last vestige of the operation that had netted the smugglers. "Pity we can't keep a few of these."

Holmes laughed in return even as he turned the handle that led to the main room at 221b. "My dear Watson, it would take a year of your doctor's fees to buy the least of these rugs. Mr. Ibrahim will pay my usual fee when we return these tomorrow."

*

The door was as it had always been. Yet it felt like lead as the consulting detective pushed it open to walk into the sitting room alone. In silence he turned to his room to remove the suit he'd worn to the wedding.

*

Mr. Mycroft Holmes had generously permitted him access to the rooms to collect any of his forgotten items or keepsakes. But the door loomed above him, as tight-closed as if over a mausoleum vault. Watson blinked away the blinding sting and turned back down the stairs from where he'd stopped halfway. His voice was thick as he handed the key back to a red-eyed Mrs. Hudson. "Nothing, I need nothing."

*

"And look, my dear fellow." With a grand gesture Holmes swept open the portal. Watson stepped through, eyes finally turning from the miracle of his friend in the living flesh to see the 221b digs unchanged from how they had dwelt in his memory – save for the broken window and the wax bust near the fireplace, proof that he did not dream.

*

Watson remonstrated in vain to ears that would not hear. "Dear man, it's a scratch. I took worse stumbling during a drill as a recruit!"

"You are not that resilient young Army medic any more." Holmes would not look at him as he led the way into the room, Watson limping behind in his torn and bloodstained trousers. "And I am clearly no longer possessed of a young man's wit and reflexes or I should have known what Evans had planned. The experiment is concluded, John, and the results are unmistakeable. This must be our last case."

*

Birdsong greeted them as they approached the little cottage; soon it would be joined by the hum of bees. Watson grinned. "Sherlock, I'm not 'thin as a lath' any more. Are you sure you want to do this?"

Holmes snorted as he unlocked the door, and turned back to the man who had shared his life for nearly three decades. "Surely you understand the importance of certain traditions, darling."

And Sherlock Holmes carried John Watson over the Sussex doorstep.

Comments

[gardnerhill.livejournal.com]

Exactly what I was going for - the same physical act denoting another chapter in their lives, and ending with both going through the door together.