Out vile distractions!
You know you are easily distracted when you start making your cuddly slug, elephant, hedgehog and penguin enact that scene from HMS Pinafore where the captains daughter agrees to marry the admiral, whilst secretly making plans to run off with her lover, whilst her father and the admiral sing a happy ditty.
*ehem*
Here is a little present for redconverse, lyricalsoul and skylockee (and possibly frankymole as I noticed he has just been to the dentist as well... must be a theme going on here...)
Title: The Dentist
Rating: PG
Synopsis: Holmes has tooth ache.
"Go to the dentist."
"No, it doesn't really hurt." Holmes winced as he sipped his tea.
"Really." I commented. We had been having this argument for the past few days ever since he had been complaining of tooth ache, he was being his usual stubborn self and refusing to listen to reason.
"It's nothing, Watson, really." He abandoned his cup of tea.
"If it's hurting Holmes then you can't keep ignoring it!"
"It only hurts when I drink hot or cold liquids, or eat anything sweet. None of which I do very often."
"You're fond of those foul cinnamon lozenges, and you like your tea and coffee."
"Cinnamon isn't what I'd call sweet."
"Fair enough, but the tea, coffee?"
There was an icy pause, "let's leave this discussion."
"Holmes..."
"Watson."
His tone was one of finality and begrudgingly I let the matter settle hoping that he would eventually see sense and make that trip to the dentist. So we sat together in front of the fireplace, I absorbed in my writing and Holmes pasting newspaper cuttings into his commonplace book (occasionally pausing to rub his cheek). True to my word, I did not say another thing concerning Holmes and his tooth pain, I was confident that common sense would eventually prevail.
That night as I lay in bed, I heard Holmes's muffled whimpering coming from the floor below me. Sighing I pulled on my dressing gown and padded down the stairs to offer him some comfort. Holmes was propped up on his bed, his hand clamped against his mouth and I was sure that there were small pricks of tears in the corner of his eyes.
We exchanged glances, mine saying "I told you" and his saying "don't even think it", and I hurried over, placed my arm about his shoulder and squeezed his arm with my other hand.
"Is there anything you would like?" I asked him as he rested his head against my shoulder. "Apart from morphine." I quickly added.
"Just keep doing what you're doing." He answered a little meekly, and I obliged by continuing to stroke his arm.
"Promise me you'll go the dentist in the morning?"
"Watson..."
"Don't try to say it isn't bothering you."
"... I'm scared." He continued in a very quiet voice.
Not sure if I had heard correctly I paused before replying, "you're... you're scared?"
"... Yes..."
"Why for heavens sake?"
"... don't know..."
"You sound like a school boy." I smiled at him. "If I were to come with you...?"
"... that would be acceptable." Kissing the top of his head lightly I replied that I would be delighted to accompany him. "Stay." He said catching my arm as I made to stand.
"If you wish, it's a bit off the rota though." I winked at him making a veiled jibe at his refusal to 'have relations' (as he called it) on a regular occasion, he cited the possibility of being caught but I suspected he enjoyed the control and the thrill of irregular contact.
The next morning, I bundled a very reluctant Holmes into a hansom cab and we headed off to the dentist that he and I had shared for the past few years. Sitting with him in the non-de script waiting room I had never seen him more tense and alert, his eyes darting in every direction and examining every single one of the other people in the room with a deep scrutiny. I smiled at a young boy sitting opposite swinging his legs beneath him and wearing a very smart school uniform - he pulled a face in response and I was about to pull one back when Holmes's named was called out.
"Actually, Watson...." He said rising, "I feel much better and I think...."
I caught his arm and pulled him in the direction of the consulting room receiving a knowing smile from every woman in the waiting room that clearly said "men!".
"Come on Holmes, you'll feel much better afterwards." Almost forcing him in the direction, I pushed open the door and gave him a gentle shove before following him.
"Ah Mr Holmes." Our dentist, Mr Pearshaw said with a nervous smile. "It has been some time, has it not?"
"Too long." I commented for him, "sorry I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all, Dr Watson. I would be glad of the supervision should our patient here require pain relief." Holmes's eyes widened and I saw him edge towards the door. "Take a seat, Mr Holmes." Nervously he edged towards the dentist chair before cautiously lowering himself into it and sitting back. "That's right, now let's take a look..."
I sat in a straight backed chair off to the side and amused myself by thinking of this entire situation and how it would look in the Strand magazine. Perhaps I could use it to teach people that it was fine to have irrational fears as even the great detective is terrified of the dentist (and spiders, snakes and anything female).
"Um.... this tooth is going to have to come out, I'm afraid." I saw Holmes's eyes widen again in panic as Mr Pearshaw brought out his morphine needed and large set of extracting tools. "Is this a fair amount, doctor?"
"Considering Holmes's.. less than favourable habits I would say so. " Moving closer I discreetly took Holmes's shaking hand. He gripped me tightly. "Do you mind if I observe?"
Seemingly not to notice that I was holding his patients hand and gently running my thumb across the back of it in a soothing way, Mr Pearshaw continued with his task. During which Holmes's grip on my hand got tighter and tighter until I could no longer feel my hand, and was sure that he had broken at least one finger.
Finally it was all over, and a groggy Holmes got unsteadily to his feet.
"I'll need to see you again in about six months or so, Mr Holmes, and please remember to keep the appointment this time. Dr Watson, you're welcome to accompany him at any time."
"Thank you," I shook his hand. "Come along, Holmes." I escorted him from the room, out into the waiting room and finally out into the street where I hailed a hansom cab. We climbed in and I gave his knee a quick squeeze. "That wasn't so bad was it?"
Holmes glared at me and replied: "Mmmbtghth."
Which I took to mean "no, of course not, you were exactly right."