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Description
Mood Swings

Our case had reached its fifth week of investigations and we were still nowhere near its end. Holmes, as per usual, was in his chair with a far off gaze and a vacant expression, which indicated his mind at work. I myself was at my desk going over some documentation about the crime in question. A man had been murdered at number 4 Queens Street and the only clue we had was a letter, which Holmes had on his lap as he stared off into nothingness. Holmes suddenly sprang from his chair and threw the letter onto the desk in front of me. His moods were unpredictable so I feared for the worst when he kicked the wall in, what seemed to be, frustration.

"Whatever's the matter Holmes?" I enquired, as he was still facing the wall. "Have you found a clue within the letter?"

"Not the letter, Watson, the envelope" His voice was stern, as though he thought that I was stupid not to of noticed what he did.

"All it says is 'No. 4 Queens Street, Londo-'"

"The date, man, what of the date!" I took note of his outburst and turned over the envelope.

"16th of June. What of it?" I still had no idea as to what his intentions were for this mere piece of trivia.

"A full week after the murder. Which means that she couldn't have been the murderer" He turned away from the wall and looked at me. When he saw my puzzled expression he smiled slightly.

"What do you mean, 'she couldn't have been the murderer'?" I couldn't have been more at a loss as to what he was stating.

"Never mind that Watson, all of this boils down to one fact. I have solved the case!" As he said that, I could see that his face brightened up, as though he had put his heart and soul into his work. I, of course, couldn't argue with him for I had no facts for myself, so instead, stood up from the desk and proceeded to congratulate him.

"Congratulations Holmes, you've done it again." I stretched out my hand, which was answered by his.

"Thank you Watson, though, I could have never done it without your help." I could see in his eyes that he sincerely meant it.

"Holmes, what are you doing? Holmes!" His lips clasped themselves over my own. The hand that was holding onto mine had pulled me into him, and the other had made its way around my waist so that it made it harder to get away. With my one free hand I tried to push him away but he was too strong. I tried to kick him away but he tripped me, and we both fell to the ground. We were separated for a moment, so I took this opportunity to try and make my escape. I felt a strong hand around my ankle, which pulled me back. Holmes turned me over so that we were face to face. I couldn't move. My arms were pinned down and his legs were on top of my own to avoid any more kicking. I tried to call for help but his lips muffled my distress. I closed my eyes, imaging that this is not happening. I felt my right arm being moved to meet my left. I could feel Holmes' free hand glide down my torso, undoing all of my buttons and exposing my body. Our lips parted and we both panted for breath. I quickly turned my head away from his, as it drew closer once more. I felt his breath by the side of my head.

"Resistance is futile" My eyes snapped open at his remark. I struggled at a last attempt to free myself, but it was in vein. A slight laugh at my attempts came from his moist lips.

"Let me go!" I yelled, "Why are you doing this?" but he didn't answer. He locked lips with my own for just a moment. I closed my eyes once more. He started kissing my neck, then my chest, where his free hand was massaging my curves. Then he stopped. I looked up to see what he was up to. He looked at me with a mischievous grin. What was he thinking in that head of his? He then, with his lips firmly against my own to silence my protests, started to take off my trousers. Just then I felt a strange sensation in my chest, like it was going to explode if I didn't scream out. But I couldn't. My eyes started to water. A single tear poured down my face and touched his nose as he continually kissed me. Just as the droplet touched his nose, Holmes just stopped dead like he had just been shot. He released my arms, stood up and backed away from me, as if I was the one that shot him. Holmes just stood there gazing into space with a look of horror on his face.

"I…I'm sorry Watson…" he stammered. He was trembling terribly and looked as though he would cry himself. Before I could say a word he ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

---

After I had made myself more presentable I found Holmes lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He didn't seem to notice that I had entered so I cleared my throat to gain his attention, but he didn't even flinch.

"I'm sorry Holmes" he turned to face me. I don't know why I apologised, but at least I got his attention.

"No, the fault is mine entirely" he returned to face the ceiling, "I am…well…was your friend" he took a long pause, thinking about what he would say next. I, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, stood silently, awaiting his continuation. "I think it would be best if I left." At this he jumped out of his bed and made his way towards the door.

"What? No! Why would you do something as idiotic as that?" I exclaimed, as I blocked the exit from him.

"Because, I don't want to stay with someone who I might hurt."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Believe me, fear has got nothing to do with it." He attempted to get past me again but I had so many questions and I was beginning to get frustrated. I grabbed Holmes by the shoulders and held him at arms length.

"What's happening? Tell me what's going on!" I felt so confused about the whole situation so I let him go, and sat on his bed. "If you want to leave, then leave." Holmes turned to face me but I couldn't look at him.

"There's something that I have refrained from telling you Watson. I am very sensitive to emotion. You congratulating me was just the last thing in a series of events that led me to do what I did. You take a grate interest in my work which most would just cast aside, you tend to all my ailments when I experiment on myself, and you are always by my side. When I was touching your chest I felt your heart beat. It was beating in tune with my own, which made me so happy. But then, when I felt your tears against my skin, I couldn't bare the fact that you didn't return my affections. That's why I left so abruptly, and that's why I think I should take my leave."

I stood up from the chair and grabbed his arm. "No! You can't hurt me. Stay please! I don't know what I would do if you were not here." I let go of his arm and stood waiting for his reply. He turned towards me but his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"How am I of any value to your life?"

"By being in it!" Holmes was as much shocked to my response as I was. Almost as if he had calculated every possible outcome to his question save my own. There was a long silence. "I felt something…something I can't really explain…but if you go…then that feeling will go too…and I don't want that…please…please, don't go!" I felt the tears welling up, I had to be strong. The detectives face was not that of sadness or empathy, but one of true heart felt emotion, which I have never seen before in all my days of knowing him. I was now looking at the ground, when I saw a second pair of shoes standing right in front of my own. I looked up into his face. I threw my arms around him and held him fast. I felt his warm breath by the side of my face yet again but this time I relished every moment.

"I love you Watson."

"And I you."

Description
Mood Swings

Our case had reached its fifth week of investigations and we were still nowhere near its end. Holmes, as per usual, was in his chair with a far off gaze and a vacant expression, which indicated his mind at work. I myself was at my desk going over some documentation about the crime in question. A man had been murdered at number 4 Queens Street and the only clue we had was a letter, which Holmes had on his lap as he stared off into nothingness. Holmes suddenly sprang from his chair and threw the letter onto the desk in front of me. His moods were unpredictable so I feared for the worst when he kicked the wall in, what seemed to be, frustration.

"Whatever's the matter Holmes?" I enquired, as he was still facing the wall. "Have you found a clue within the letter?"

"Not the letter, Watson, the envelope" His voice was stern, as though he thought that I was stupid not to of noticed what he did.

"All it says is 'No. 4 Queens Street, Londo-'"

"The date, man, what of the date!" I took note of his outburst and turned over the envelope.

"16th of June. What of it?" I still had no idea as to what his intentions were for this mere piece of trivia.

"A full week after the murder. Which means that she couldn't have been the murderer" He turned away from the wall and looked at me. When he saw my puzzled expression he smiled slightly.

"What do you mean, 'she couldn't have been the murderer'?" I couldn't have been more at a loss as to what he was stating.

"Never mind that Watson, all of this boils down to one fact. I have solved the case!" As he said that, I could see that his face brightened up, as though he had put his heart and soul into his work. I, of course, couldn't argue with him for I had no facts for myself, so instead, stood up from the desk and proceeded to congratulate him.

"Congratulations Holmes, you've done it again." I stretched out my hand, which was answered by his.

"Thank you Watson, though, I could have never done it without your help." I could see in his eyes that he sincerely meant it.

"Holmes, what are you doing? Holmes!" His lips clasped themselves over my own. The hand that was holding onto mine had pulled me into him, and the other had made its way around my waist so that it made it harder to get away. With my one free hand I tried to push him away but he was too strong. I tried to kick him away but he tripped me, and we both fell to the ground. We were separated for a moment, so I took this opportunity to try and make my escape. I felt a strong hand around my ankle, which pulled me back. Holmes turned me over so that we were face to face. I couldn't move. My arms were pinned down and his legs were on top of my own to avoid any more kicking. I tried to call for help but his lips muffled my distress. I closed my eyes, imaging that this is not happening. I felt my right arm being moved to meet my left. I could feel Holmes' free hand glide down my torso, undoing all of my buttons and exposing my body. Our lips parted and we both panted for breath. I quickly turned my head away from his, as it drew closer once more. I felt his breath by the side of my head.

"Resistance is futile" My eyes snapped open at his remark. I struggled at a last attempt to free myself, but it was in vein. A slight laugh at my attempts came from his moist lips.

"Let me go!" I yelled, "Why are you doing this?" but he didn't answer. He locked lips with my own for just a moment. I closed my eyes once more. He started kissing my neck, then my chest, where his free hand was massaging my curves. Then he stopped. I looked up to see what he was up to. He looked at me with a mischievous grin. What was he thinking in that head of his? He then, with his lips firmly against my own to silence my protests, started to take off my trousers. Just then I felt a strange sensation in my chest, like it was going to explode if I didn't scream out. But I couldn't. My eyes started to water. A single tear poured down my face and touched his nose as he continually kissed me. Just as the droplet touched his nose, Holmes just stopped dead like he had just been shot. He released my arms, stood up and backed away from me, as if I was the one that shot him. Holmes just stood there gazing into space with a look of horror on his face.

"I…I'm sorry Watson…" he stammered. He was trembling terribly and looked as though he would cry himself. Before I could say a word he ran out of the room and slammed the door behind him.

---

After I had made myself more presentable I found Holmes lying on his bed staring at the ceiling. He didn't seem to notice that I had entered so I cleared my throat to gain his attention, but he didn't even flinch.

"I'm sorry Holmes" he turned to face me. I don't know why I apologised, but at least I got his attention.

"No, the fault is mine entirely" he returned to face the ceiling, "I am…well…was your friend" he took a long pause, thinking about what he would say next. I, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought, stood silently, awaiting his continuation. "I think it would be best if I left." At this he jumped out of his bed and made his way towards the door.

"What? No! Why would you do something as idiotic as that?" I exclaimed, as I blocked the exit from him.

"Because, I don't want to stay with someone who I might hurt."

"I'm not afraid of you."

"Believe me, fear has got nothing to do with it." He attempted to get past me again but I had so many questions and I was beginning to get frustrated. I grabbed Holmes by the shoulders and held him at arms length.

"What's happening? Tell me what's going on!" I felt so confused about the whole situation so I let him go, and sat on his bed. "If you want to leave, then leave." Holmes turned to face me but I couldn't look at him.

"There's something that I have refrained from telling you Watson. I am very sensitive to emotion. You congratulating me was just the last thing in a series of events that led me to do what I did. You take a grate interest in my work which most would just cast aside, you tend to all my ailments when I experiment on myself, and you are always by my side. When I was touching your chest I felt your heart beat. It was beating in tune with my own, which made me so happy. But then, when I felt your tears against my skin, I couldn't bare the fact that you didn't return my affections. That's why I left so abruptly, and that's why I think I should take my leave."

I stood up from the chair and grabbed his arm. "No! You can't hurt me. Stay please! I don't know what I would do if you were not here." I let go of his arm and stood waiting for his reply. He turned towards me but his eyes were fixed on the ground.

"How am I of any value to your life?"

"By being in it!" Holmes was as much shocked to my response as I was. Almost as if he had calculated every possible outcome to his question save my own. There was a long silence. "I felt something…something I can't really explain…but if you go…then that feeling will go too…and I don't want that…please…please, don't go!" I felt the tears welling up, I had to be strong. The detectives face was not that of sadness or empathy, but one of true heart felt emotion, which I have never seen before in all my days of knowing him. I was now looking at the ground, when I saw a second pair of shoes standing right in front of my own. I looked up into his face. I threw my arms around him and held him fast. I felt his warm breath by the side of my face yet again but this time I relished every moment.

"I love you Watson."

"And I you."