Torturing until I feel better...
I feel like shit.
Feels like I'm swallowing sandpaper, not to mention the fact I'm freezing.
Nice haul from the postie made me feel a little better.
'The Last Sherlock Holmes Story' by Michael Dibdin
'Dr Joseph Bell - The Original Sherlock Holmes' by Robert Hume
'Conan Doyle - The Detective' by Peter Costello
Also to make me feel better last night, I tortured Holmes for a bit.
Title: Torturing Sherlock Holmes
Rating: PG
Dedication: For skylockee
Synopsis: Torture can be fun, especially for Dr Watson.
Torturing Sherlock Holmes
Sherlock Holmes limped painfully into his bedroom and flopped somewhat unceremoniously down onto the bed. He was followed (as ever) by his ever faithful Boswell, Dr John Watson.
"Let me take a look." The good doctor requested in an exasperated tone. This was clearly an already discussed issue.
"It's a blister." Holmes replied. "Hardly requires medical attention."
"Still."
Holmes sighed, knowing full well that Watson would persist in asking until he agreed, swivelled himself onto the edge of the bed and began to unlace his boots. Watson hunted in his medical bag for a salve and a suitable dressing, he turned back in time to observe Holmes removing his socks and lying back on the bed.
He raised his left foot for inspection.
"Impressive." Watson commented, eyeing up the blister.
"Thank you."
He ignored Holmes's tone and took the foot gently in his hand. He ran a finger along the sole before moving to treat the offending blister. Holmes giggled and squirmed under his grip.
"Keep still." Watson cautioned.
"I'm ticklish."
"Oh, really?"
In a flash Watson pounced on the great detective and began to tickle him with great enthusiasm.
"Please, stop." Holmes managed to pant between attacks, squirming rather pleasingly under Watson. His protests went unheard as the assault grew more frenzied. "Please... I'm..." he spluttered, "I'm going to wet myself!"
At this Watson stopped. The poor mattress had seen much abuse over the many years of their friendship and he didn't want to subject it to the final humiliation.
They lay panting side by side. Watson stared up at the ceiling with a satisfied grin, thoroughly amused by his discovery of Holmes's weakness. He handed over his handkerchief so that Holmes could wipe the tears from his eyes.
Quick as lightening, Holmes pinned Watson to the bed, a mischievous smile across his narrow face.
Downstairs in her sitting room, Mrs Hudson became suddenly aware of the silence. Hurrying up the stairs to investigate she paused at the top of the stairs upon hearing the squeaks of springs and muffled giggles from Mr Holmes's room. Turning on her heel she headed back downstairs grinning like a Cheshire cat.
Oh and again for skylockee who commented I have nice handwriting - this is what my handwriting usually looks like:
Yes I do write my stories the old fashioned way. Sometimes with a fountain pen!
I'm going to watch 'The Notorious Bettie Page', then lie down for a bit.