Fic: Confined: G
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holmes_minorTitle: Confined
Length: 499
Rating: Gen
Content Notes: Holmes/Watson, jealous Watson, reference to bondage
Summary: Holmes returns to Baker Street after an interview with a king.
I believe that I have written of the cleanliness of Holmes’ life, which extended invariably to his public presentation, that is to say, to his wardrobe, so when he returned to Baker Street one afternoon looking somewhat rumpled, I knew at once that something was stirring.
He was not in disguise, and he did not appear to be injured. On the contrary, he was positively brimming with satisfaction. Had our positions been reversed, he would, of course, have been able to tell with maddening precision where and with whom I had been, but I was left puzzled and a bit piqued.
Just who, exactly, had been rumpling him?
“Watson! I have just had the most singular interview!”
“With whom?”
“A king!”
Now, England had no king at that moment, and I knew that even the King of Bohemia had called on Holmes at Baker Street, so this sovereign must be singular, indeed, to have roused my friend from his lair and his routine.
“He is a skilful workman, one after my own heart, who has filled his attic with the most astounding array of tools. Were that my own lumber room,” he tapped his forehead, “a bit larger and could accommodate some of his furnishings! I would transplant them forthwith!”
“A wizened old sage, was he?”
“At twenty-six, hardly. American. Fit like a drum.”
“And where did you meet this tambourine?!”
He grinned. “In a trunk!”
“A trunk?!”
“I was handcuffed, shackled, and locked in the trunk, and he instructed me on how to free myself. This was, of course, after introductions.”
“Of course.”
“He shared with me a small portion of his knowledge of sword-swallowers, fire-eaters, defiers of poisonous reptiles, escape artists such as himself, as well as spiritualists who claim to commune with the dead. Surely you can see that it is all knowledge that may, one day, prove invaluable in the solving of crimes. He also paid me the honour of allowing me to experiment in his laboratory.”
“The trunk, I presume?”
“Indeed!”
“And what did you offer in return?”
“An introduction. I thought Gregson might be the most susceptible to his particular brand of charm, and I was correct. The young man escaped from a pair of Scotland Yard ‘cuffs in front of a dozen astonished inspectors.”
“I’m sorry I missed the show,” I grumbled.
“You haven’t.” He displayed two tickets. “Because of his demonstration, he’s been booked at the Alhambra. Tonight. Front row. You will be just astounded as they were, my good man!”
“Are you sure that you aren’t the one susceptible to his charm?”
“Come now, Watson.” With a wave of the hand, he produced a pair of antique manacles. “A gift to us from Mr. Harry Houdini, the King of Handcuffs”
“Us?”
“The cuffs are for me,” he said, offering me a small piece of metal. “The key is for you, of course. So, what say you to a night of magic?”
I smiled and took the key.
“I say ‘Yes.’”
Length: 499
Rating: Gen
Content Notes: Holmes/Watson, jealous Watson, reference to bondage
Summary: Holmes returns to Baker Street after an interview with a king.
I believe that I have written of the cleanliness of Holmes’ life, which extended invariably to his public presentation, that is to say, to his wardrobe, so when he returned to Baker Street one afternoon looking somewhat rumpled, I knew at once that something was stirring.
He was not in disguise, and he did not appear to be injured. On the contrary, he was positively brimming with satisfaction. Had our positions been reversed, he would, of course, have been able to tell with maddening precision where and with whom I had been, but I was left puzzled and a bit piqued.
Just who, exactly, had been rumpling him?
“Watson! I have just had the most singular interview!”
“With whom?”
“A king!”
Now, England had no king at that moment, and I knew that even the King of Bohemia had called on Holmes at Baker Street, so this sovereign must be singular, indeed, to have roused my friend from his lair and his routine.
“He is a skilful workman, one after my own heart, who has filled his attic with the most astounding array of tools. Were that my own lumber room,” he tapped his forehead, “a bit larger and could accommodate some of his furnishings! I would transplant them forthwith!”
“A wizened old sage, was he?”
“At twenty-six, hardly. American. Fit like a drum.”
“And where did you meet this tambourine?!”
He grinned. “In a trunk!”
“A trunk?!”
“I was handcuffed, shackled, and locked in the trunk, and he instructed me on how to free myself. This was, of course, after introductions.”
“Of course.”
“He shared with me a small portion of his knowledge of sword-swallowers, fire-eaters, defiers of poisonous reptiles, escape artists such as himself, as well as spiritualists who claim to commune with the dead. Surely you can see that it is all knowledge that may, one day, prove invaluable in the solving of crimes. He also paid me the honour of allowing me to experiment in his laboratory.”
“The trunk, I presume?”
“Indeed!”
“And what did you offer in return?”
“An introduction. I thought Gregson might be the most susceptible to his particular brand of charm, and I was correct. The young man escaped from a pair of Scotland Yard ‘cuffs in front of a dozen astonished inspectors.”
“I’m sorry I missed the show,” I grumbled.
“You haven’t.” He displayed two tickets. “Because of his demonstration, he’s been booked at the Alhambra. Tonight. Front row. You will be just astounded as they were, my good man!”
“Are you sure that you aren’t the one susceptible to his charm?”
“Come now, Watson.” With a wave of the hand, he produced a pair of antique manacles. “A gift to us from Mr. Harry Houdini, the King of Handcuffs”
“Us?”
“The cuffs are for me,” he said, offering me a small piece of metal. “The key is for you, of course. So, what say you to a night of magic?”
I smiled and took the key.
“I say ‘Yes.’”
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Date: 2016-04-06 12:12 am (UTC)