"Come, Watson, we require a cab," said Holmes as he hurried out of the crime scene and toward the street.
"Where are we off to-was there a clue in that ghastly scene that triggered our destination?"
"We are off to Islington my dear Doctor."
The two men procured a cab and were off for the twenty-minute ride through the crowded streets of London to Islington. Holmes lit a cigarette and offered one to Watson, who chose to partake. The two men sat in silence for the duration of the ride as Holmes was want to do when his mind was fully engaged regarding some nefarious act.
The cab arrived at a well turned out lane in a section of town that was full-up with large mansions and agricultural estates. The cabbie alighted from his post and opened two large iron estate gates with a great monogram of "RW" spanning them. They rode past the gates, up the long drive, and the cab next stopped in front of a large manor house, with great neoclassical columns and a beautiful brick frontage.
Holmes paid the cabbie to wait and joined by the Doctor, they rang the bell and waited upon the opening of the great front doors. The door was answered by a domestic, to whom Holmes offered an introduction, and they were shown into a front parlor where they were asked to wait.
"Holmes, what are we doing here?" asked Watson as he gazed around the lavish decor of the parlor.
"Patience Doctor, our purpose will become clear momentarily."
The doors to the parlor were opened and an elderly gentleman, well dressed in an Oriental silk smoking jacket and sporting great white sideburns, entered the room and closed the doors.
"Ah Sherlock, so good to see you again-its been too long," said the new arrival as he walked across the room and took Holmes' hand in a warm handshake.
"Sir Reginald, so good to see you again as well-may I introduce my associate, Doctor John Watson. Doctor, this is Sir Reginald Whitaker."
The two men exchanged handshakes and introductions.
"Sir Reginald, we are here for your assistance with a most sensitive situation," began Holmes.
"I see, well, Sherlock you know that you can rely on me for anything within my power to give."
"The issue at hand involves Dr. Watson. His newlywed wife has implied that she is desirous of a canine companion, and the good Doctor has decided to fulfill that wish by giving her an animal as a birthday present. But, he has no direct direction regarding her preference in a breed; thus, we are here for your expertise."
Watson looked at Holmes in disbelief. They had just examined two murder victims and were now involved in a criminal investigation, and Holmes takes a detour to look into Watson's birthday conundrum?
Holmes, sensing Watson's surprise, immediately allayed his companion's concerns.
"Watson, Sir Reginald is the Chairman of 'The Kennel Club,' which happens to be the oldest kennel style club in England. There is no doubt in my mind that he will be of immeasurable assistance in the quest to find a suitable canine companion for Mrs. Watson."
"But Holmes, I must protest, we are in the middle of a murder case, and to leave the trail in favor of my search for a birthday present for my wife is quite reckless."
"Doctor, I anticipated your response, but you emotionally stopped short and failed to carry out the logic in my actions. This murder case in which we are now engaged is as dangerous an activity as we have ever undertaken during our partnership. It will need your full attention and I am afraid you will remain distracted as long as the dog issue is in question. Therefore, the quicker I can assist you in finding an appropriate breed, and possibly the right animal, the sooner we can continue our search for the murderer, and the safer we will be in that undertaking."
Doctor Watson could only smile tightly and nod to his associate because there was no argument to be made: Holmes was correct of course.
"Sir Reginald, let's talk about dogs," said Holmes as he eased himself into a leather wingback chair.
Whisky was offered and accepted, Holmes and Sir Reginald lit their pipes, and it became apparent to Watson that he needed to notify his office to cancel his appointments for the entire day.
It was half seven when they returned to Baker Street, as they had spent a productive afternoon speaking with Sir Reginald, then viewing his personal kennels and his collections of hounds, herding, hunting, and house dogs. It certainly gave Watson a great deal to think about, as there were advantages to each individual breed, and of course disadvantages as well. Ultimately, the best advice Watson received from both men that day was to match the breed to the owner, and the best marriage between a man and his "best friend" were the result of carefully considering the characteristics of both man and beast. It was a scientific process, and that was something Watson both understood and could apply himself towards. He would head out tomorrow afternoon to a specific breeder and attempt to acquire the right dog.
Slowly walking up the stairway to number "B," the two famished men were hopeful that Mrs. Hudson had something left over from tea. Holmes insisted on returning to Baker Street directly in the event there was a message from Gregson.
Upon reaching the landing before Holmes' flat, Holmes stopped and held up a hand as he could hear voices inside the room. Watson froze at Holmes' signal, and could hear the voices as well; there was a woman's voice, or was it two? And laughter?
Holmes opened the door, and they found Mrs. Hudson and Mrs. Watson sitting in Sherlock and the Doctor's favorite chairs. A tea service comprised of empty teacups and dirty dishes lay on the small table. The ladies were laughing when the men entered the room, and it appeared that they were having what some people referred to as "fun."
"Oh John, Sherlock, please come in!" giggled Mary Watson.
"I am sorry Mr. Holmes, but we grew tired of waiting for you to return, and Mrs. Watson was hungry, so I decide that we would enjoy our tea together."
"Quite alright Mrs. Hudson, and Mrs. Watson, so good to see you. I can see that marriage agrees with you madam."
At that, Mary Watson beamed at Holmes.
"John, I have a surprise," and with that, she reached down to the floor next to her chair, and in that brief moment, Watson looked at Holmes, who merely shrugged.
When Mary sat up, she was holding a small, scruffy, little Yorkshire Terrier.
"Isn't he just adorable!"
The Doctor was speechless. Well, almost speechless, "he certainly is my dear, where on earth did you get him?"
"He was a gift from Mrs. Frampton, she is the wife of the baker, Mr. Frampton, at Gold Crown Bakery. Their dog had a litter, and we got to talking, and well, she showed me the remaining pups, and I just fell in love with this one!"
Holmes looked sideways at Watson, who could only say, "very scientific, eh Holmes."
"Quite, Watson...quite."
YOU ARE READING
Not Strictly Sherlock
Fanfiction"She reached up and ran her fingertips down his jaw and across his lips. They were close, very close, and she found his warm breath exciting. He smelled of tobacco and danger." Excerpt from "Twice on the Divan" Do you love Sherlock Holmes? Well, th...
