Pairings/Characters: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows
Genres: Angst, Drama
Spoilers: For Sherlock Holmes: A Game Of Shadows
Summary: Holmes wonders if he still fits into Watson’s new life.
Date Of Completion: December 23, 2011
Date Of Posting: January 5, 2012
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle and Warner Brothers do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 461
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
Under the blaze of light
Lady Sarah Jean Simmons
Holmes led Watson out onto the dance floor as the orchestra struck up a Strauss waltz. No one blinked an eye at two men dancing. Cultured gentlemen of good breeding were required to exhibit the social graces, and if a partner of the opposite sex was not available, dancing with another man was acceptable, just as women served as each other’s partners. It was expected.
As they discussed how to spot the assassin, Holmes allowed himself to enjoy the moment. He had taught John how to dance, and they worked together seamlessly as in all things. His partner’s grace was mitigated by his game leg, but Watson still managed a courtly cadence.
Holmes was well aware of the music, the sound of silk swishing on polished marble floors, the dazzle of jewels and the brightness of chandeliers as perfume and cologne wafted past his nose. Watson’s cologne was light and slightly spicy.
All of this awareness was his blessing and his curse. His mind was forever restless, and yet Watson was able to soothe him and give his oft-chaotic thoughts a focus.
And as he danced, in perfect sync with Watson as they strategized, the former soldier’s mind nimble and understanding, Holmes felt a great weight lift from his heart.
Watson’s wedding had depressed him. He was losing his best friend and partner…and the man he loved.
As they whirled around the dance floor, Holmes knew that he held this knowledge close to his heart. Watson craved respectability and he would not get it living with London’s most famous eccentric. Mary was a respectable woman from a good family and appeared to love John.
A pain sliced through him as he thought of Irene, but gently put that thought aside for now. The wound was too fresh.
Instead, there was Watson, looking elegant in his formal tails and white gloves, bright eyes missing nothing. Despite his protestations that this was his last case, here he was, completely immersed in their latest adventure like an old war horse hearing the call to battle.
Holmes remembered the look that had passed between them when Watson had found him in the tower rubble. It had warmed him down to his toes even through the hellacious pain in his shoulder from that damnable meat hook. It had almost been worth having a building fall on top of him.
He smiled. No matter how married Watson was, he still fit into his friend’s life as easily as they fit together dancing.
Holmes and Watson whirled away in a flurry of silk and joy as the game was afoot and there was a plot to stop.