The Head And The Heart- A collection of Sherlock Holmes stories

A collection of stories about Sherlock Holmes, the well-known and well-loved detective, and his trusted friend and biographer Dr. Watson. "Reichenbach Feels" is set immediately after the unfortunate events of 'The Final Problem'. We follow the landlady of 221B, young Rebecca Hudson, on a quest to fill the void left behind by the untimely death of a lodger. In "A Case of Identity" a nightmare that has haunted our heroes becomes true: Professor Moriarty has finally outwitted them. And so we witness them planning a spectacular flight... "Both or None" depicts the best friendship in literature: Holmes and Watson have often saved each other's life- but what if nothing is safe, and no one is saved? Can one live without the other? Features two bonus stories: "Better Words Than These" describes what an impending war in the early 1900s might mean for a certain retired army surgeon, and his friend... In "The Fourth Wall" our heroes face the problem of an author vexed by his creations...


30. I. 5. Worth Many Wounds

One early morning, I was awoken by a tap on my arm. When I contritely opened my eyes, Holmes was smiling at me. "Good morning, Watson."

Sleepily I asked him, "uh... what time is it?"
"6 am.", was his reply in an impertinently cheerful voice. I gave a moan, and closed my eyes again with the intention to sleep on.

"Come now, we must get up."
When I heard his voice addressing me a second time, I ruefully admitted in my mind that he was right- in fact it was only me who had to get up. My patients would certainly be happy to again see me in my surgery, once in a while.
Nevertheless, I still had enough time until I'd have to go! It was just typical of Holmes to shoo me out of bed far too early, because he didn't mind getting up at sunrise- but I did.
Instead of doing what he had advised, I reached out when he moved towards the edge of the bed, and tried to pull him closer to me again- but he brushed off my hand which lay on his shoulder and rose, slipping into his dressing gown, then proceeding to try to get me out of bed too.

"Watson. Come on.", he said, beckoning me. Despite his requests I turned around and ignored him, unable to suppress a grin. Holmes took my hand, tugging on my arm but I held on to the iron frame. Then he proved again that he was smarter and also a little stronger than I was:
He climbed onto the bed again and bent down to press a kiss to my ear- which caused me to release my grip- and before I could protest or do anything, he had pulled me out of bed and I stood beside him.

"You're such a terrible person, Holmes." I said in jest. He replied with a smug grin:
"Really..? If that is so, then I must congratulate you on how long you've managed to live under one roof with me."


"Holmes-", I said upon entering the sitting room later in the evening, when I had returned from my surgery, and couldn't help to notice the peaceful yet somewhat unnecessary chaos which seemed to reign all over 221B, "we should really tidy up once in a while. Consider how this will seem to-"
Holmes turned around in the chair in which he was sitting and cut me off in the middle of my sentence:
"Oh, Watson. Just shut up and kiss me."

I stopped, first being slightly startled at this direct appeal, but then I smiled. Of course I couldn't refuse his request.
After having crossed the room, I bent over his chair, gazing down on his handsomely cut face:
His incredibly long dark lashes over grey eyes, the aquiline nose, the noble curve of his mouth.
Holmes' glance met mine when he leaned forward to press a fervent kiss on my lips. To me it seemed like my heart skipped more than a beat- I obviously wasn't quite used to this yet. As if I couldn't believe this was real, I slowly let my finger trail along the outline of his face. In return he gave me a charming smile that figuratively caused me to nearly melt.

Later we were sitting beside each other on the settee, my cheeks slightly burning from his passionate kisses. I closed my eyes, and fully enjoyed the sensation of his delicate touch as his fingers softly traced the outlines of my mouth. Into the peaceful silence Holmes suddenly whispered: "You know, Watson- when I kissed you that evening, it was not only our very first kiss- it was also... mine."

Honestly, I hadn't expected something like that. I quickly opened my eyes again and maybe sounded too surprised in answering: "Just a minute- you mean to tell me you never..."-
"No, Watson.", he said, "I never did. I actually thought about trying with you, but until that night..."
I was absolutely flabbergasted by this disclosure. He had thought about me in that way? Had I known this earlier, I would not have been so tormented trying to keep what I felt to myself. Holmes took my hand in his, and after giving me a slightly shy yet admirable smile pressed his lips to the inside of my wrist. "You're the only one in the world who has or will ever kiss me, my dear Watson. That's a promise."

In order to hide the wave of kind feeling his regard evoked in me, I inquired in a joking tone when he leaned in for yet another kiss: "Can you not even leave me alone for a mere moment?" He inclined his head to one side and answered in his rich, deep voice: "Doctor, you are far too ravishing- I fear I really can't."

I had to supress a yawn when the cathedral chimes proclaimed a quarter to midnight later. Beside me, Holmes was playing idly with a strand of my hair, and upon his looking at me he suggested: "Shall we retire, then?" In a low voice I assented. While I tried not to fall asleep yet being right where I was, he then rose with a graceful move to turn down the lamps.


I awoke in the early morning in Holmes' arms. Sleepily gazing around, my eyes rested on his peaceful face, the feeling of his even breath upon the skin of my cheek. A smile passed my lips, and for a moment I considered getting up, but then I closed my eyes again and relaxed into Holmes' embrace. After some time I was stirred from my sleep by a soft voice- his voice: "Watson... Are you awake, Watson?" I opened my eyes most slowly.
"Well, now I am.", I said with a weak laugh. My friend beside me had propped his face on his hand, effortlessly managing to sport an elegant appearance even with dishevelled hair and slightly drooping eyelids, and looked down at me, smiling. "It's awfully late, and we should already be up... but, now that I think about it, we could also consider staying in bed for even longer." I added: "Oh, I for my part actually know of no pressing business on hand for today."

Holmes reached out to gently brush a strand of hair back from my brow, and leaned down to press his lips to my forehead. I still was a little amazed that the man whom I sometimes had secretly regarded in the past as utterly devoid of human emotion could be so affectionate and loving. With a content sigh he reclined on the cushions, and closed his grey eyes. Casually I put my arm around his shoulders, which caused Holmes to turn, burying his face in the crook of my arm. When I slightly bent my wrist to stroke his head, he murmured into the folds of my sleeve: "I like your scent, Watson."
He paused, then continued: "It smells like- home."

A smile stole across my lips. Whatever would happen- to me the world still seemed safe, here and now.

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