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Home sweet home

((New post, because it is good for the universe. I would like to applaud all of the Cravat's fine members for not making a home/Holmes pun, nor yet a Holmesosexual pun. Not yet.))

Location: The Cravat
Time: Out of time

Sherlock Holmes and John Watson stumbled out of the portal, Watson still a little wide eyed at the prospect of time travel, Holmes retaining his famous composure. They stood in wait of the others, avoiding each other's eyes.

Comments

mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 06:25 am (UTC)
Jeannot shook his head at that, not out of modesty, but truly disbelieving the words. "I'm not," he said softly. "And Alexandre was-- he was stronger than I will ever hope to be. He was dying for a year," he went on slowly. "One long year of pain, and I never once saw him weep." Jeannot bit his lip until he could control himself, and sighed. "I'm sorry. I will be all right," he said, this time a bit more convincingly. "I-- thank you," he added quietly, drying his tears. "Thank you."
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 06:35 am (UTC)
"You are very welcome. That is what I seem to be here for," Watson said, smiling good naturedly. "Holmes considered me his emotional deputy, I suppose. I am expected to console histrionic clients. Holmes does not do well with emotion."
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 06:43 am (UTC)
"Then it is a good thing that he has you as a friend," Jeannot said, smiling back at Watson tremulously. He took a deep breath, feeling a bit better about the situation. He glanced over at Holmes and Gabe, wondering what they were discussing; Holmes certainly seemed more cheerful than Jeannot had seen him yet. "Do you know how long we will be here?" he asked Watson, turning his thoughts back to the matter at hand. "M. Holmes told us very little, but perhaps he has confided in you more fully?"
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 06:46 am (UTC)
Watson barked a laugh. "Good heavens, no, never. I know no more than you do. Only that Moriarty possesses compromising information, and that we must remain until the danger is passed. Although. . ." He frowned. "Do you know the nature of that information? How on earth did Moriarty find out the truth regarding. . .certain things? Or is it something else altogether? He said you both possess information - of course, it's why you're here - did you tell Moriarty? How did you know, then?" He stopped himself, embarrassed. "I'm sorry, that's far too many questions."
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:12 am (UTC)
Jeannot shook his head at Watson's questions. "I knew nothing of M. Holmes before he came to find me and Gabe," he shook his head at that particular memory, "ah... but no, we did not tell your Moriarty anything." He frowned, feeling that there was something that he had forgotten. "When we met M. Holmes," he said slowly, the bit of information working its way to the forefront of his memory, "we were in an odd sort of wineshop or bar, which I suppose you have heard. We spoke, briefly, and Gabe and I--" He blushed. "Well, we left for quite a long time. Then we came back, and M. Holmes was still there but left rather quickly, and just after he did, your Englishman came in and asked after him."

Jeannot closed his eyes, picturing the scene, and realized what it was that he had been forgetting-- the other man, the one in the clothing more similar to Gabe's than to his own, who had been sitting with Holmes when he and Gabe returned to the main room. And unless Jeannot had lost all his knowledge of the mannerisms of men who were attracted to one another, Holmes and this strange man had certainly been rather closer than one would expect of two strangers speaking at the bar, or even two friends. His eyes widened, and he glanced at Watson nervously, wondering if he knew. "Ah... there was a man..." he began, looking helplessly at his hands. "In the bar, I mean." He trailed off, not wanting to upset Watson if it turned out that he didn't know.

((There. All cards on the table, or they might be, considering if Jeannot ever spits it out.))
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:20 am (UTC)
((Danger, John Watson! Danger, danger!))

"A man?" Watson went white. "I. . ." He made a sound somewhere between a choke and a sigh, then began to cough. When he had recovered, he looked emptily at Jeannot. "A man of what sort? A man of. . .our sort?" Did I just say our? He contemplated for a moment, but then his mind rushed along different lines. "A man. . .on what sort of terms with Holmes?"
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:29 am (UTC)
Hesitating, Jeannot twisted his fingers together, searching for a way to tell his new friend without hurting him. "On-- friendly terms," he said tentatively, glancing at Watson to gauge his reaction, and sighed, deciding that it might be better to be honest right from the start. "When we entered for the second time, M. Holmes and this man were embracing, as lovers might," he said softly. "And-- oh, mon ami. I'm sorry. I should not have said anything." He pressed Watson's hand tightly, peering into his eyes with anxiety, hoping his new friend would not be angry with him for being the bearer of this news. "I-- you truly didn't know?"
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:36 am (UTC)
Watson dropped Jeannot's hand, not out of unfriendliness, but simple shock, and stared at him, face empty of expression. "I. . ." He made a sound somewhere half between a choke and a sigh, then gritted his teeth and brought one hand to his forehead in a gesture of abject misery. "You are not joking," he said quietly. "And it should not affect me as it does." Taking a shaky breath, he made a failed attempt at composing himself.
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:44 am (UTC)
Jeannot shook his head, feeling terrible for Watson. "I would not joke about such things," he told the doctor, and sighed, laying a hand on his arm for comfort. "I am sorry. Truly." Jeannot looked down. "Perhaps it is-- well, you have your wife, whom you love," he said softly, "and M. Holmes, unless I guess wrongly, is alone. If he needs someone to hold at night--" He bit his lip, thinking of how often he himself had gone home with a man or a woman in the years after Alexandre died, just needing to be close to a warm body.
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 07:52 am (UTC)
"Yes, there is Mary. . .but she is not here, and she is. . ." Watson frowned. "She is unwell, I fear. And so intimate contact of any sort, even a chaste kiss upon the cheek, has been made almost impossible, except in my capacity as a physician, and besides. . ." He trailed off, shaking his head vaguely. "I had thought, you see," he concluded, "that his affections were something particular to me. He has said as much."
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 08:02 am (UTC)
"Affection may have nothing to do with it," Jeannot said gently, trying to comfort Watson as best he could. "At least, in my experience, it need not matter, if what one needs is simply... simply not to be alone, for a time." He sighed at that, and glanced once more at Holmes, still engaged in conversation with Gabe. "If he has told you that what he feels for you is true, then I cannot doubt it," he said softly. "But he is only a man, after all, and men have physical needs as well as emotional." He was clearly out of his depth in this matter, Jeannot thought, and looked over at Gabe helplessly, wishing that his lover would come. Surely Gabe would know what to tell Watson, to make it all easier for him.
simplysidhe
Jan. 11th, 2007 03:35 pm (UTC)
"One doesn't think of Holmes as having needs at all, sometimes," Watson replied cryptically, then stuck his hands uncomfortably in his pockets. "It is all right," he added, the words rather awkward in his mouth. "I only wish he had not been so very indiscreet."
mouette_mots
Jan. 11th, 2007 11:21 pm (UTC)
"Perhaps you ought to talk to him, to discover the truth for yourself," Jeannot suggested, hoping it was good advice. He shook his head at his own foolishness for bringing the subject up. "I'm sorry, my fried," he added quietly. "You should not have heard this from me, of all people. I am not the one who can explain-- well--" He grinned wryly. "Anything at all, really." Jeannot looked over at Holmes again, thinking that the relationship between the two Englishmen was far too complicated for him to work out, and vowing to keep his mouth shut about such things in the future.
simplysidhe
Jan. 12th, 2007 02:33 am (UTC)
"I doubt he wishes to speak of it," Watson replied gently. "And please, no, it's best that you told me. He never would have. It is not his nature. As for your ability to explain things - well, I'm inclined to think you possess more than you are giving yourself credit for you." The doctor smiled shakily. "You certainly seem more at ease with yourself than either of us."
mouette_mots
Jan. 12th, 2007 05:04 am (UTC)
"With-- myself?" Jeannot shook his head in confusion, not certain he understood, but he smiled at Watson anyway, glad that he was being rational about the situation. "Everything will be all right," he told the doctor, his heart lighter than it had been all day. "It must." Jeannot stopped to think about this for a moment, and laughed at himself quietly. "Or perhaps I merely feel that way because he is here, but it should be true nonetheless, n'est-ce pas?" He looked over at Gabe again, eyes soft.
simplysidhe
Jan. 12th, 2007 05:23 am (UTC)
"With - well. Your nature," Watson explained awkwardly. He couldn't help but smile as Jeannot turned to look at Gabe, with whom Holmes seemed to be getting along unusually well. "And yes, everything will turn out all right in the end." Watson gave a soft smile. "That's one of my fundamental ideals of life, you know. The belief that everything will turn out right in the end. . ." The doctor realized he had been staring at Holmes, and quickly averted his eyes.
mouette_mots
Jan. 12th, 2007 05:35 am (UTC)
Watson's explanation left Jeannot yet more in the dark. "Ah-- my nature?" he asked bemusedly, and shook his head to apologize for not understanding. "I'm sorry. My English is not yet perfect, and perhaps I do not understand. Do you mean my characteristics, or my personality?" He grinned. "Or my appearance?"

((Hurrah for the eighteenth century and its lack of the concept of sexual orientation. *whistles merrily*))
simplysidhe
Jan. 12th, 2007 05:42 am (UTC)
"Your - you - the sodomy," finished Watson, getting the word out of his mouth as quickly as possible, as though he might choke on it.
mouette_mots
Jan. 12th, 2007 05:54 am (UTC)
Jeannot raised his eyebrows, startled by this. "Oh," he murmured, still uncertain what it was that Watson meant. "Well-- perhaps. In any case, I go to confession every week, if this is what you mean." He ducked his head with a frown, puzzling over the doctor's earlier words. "But what do you mean, 'my nature'?" Jeannot wondered aloud. "'Myself'? I sleep with men on occasion, it is true, but is there something of me in the act?" He shook his head slowly, uncomprehending.
simplysidhe
Jan. 12th, 2007 11:28 pm (UTC)
"Well - yes. I mean, don't you think it has, er, moral, well, repercussions?" Watson gestured vaguely, becoming progressively more flustered. "It's as if you don't realize. . . It is a sin?" He hadn't meant for it to come out as a question, but it seemed to anyway.
mouette_mots
Jan. 12th, 2007 11:57 pm (UTC)
"I do know that it is a sin," Jeannot murmured, sliding his eyes away from the doctor, feeling as though he was on trial-- or worse, being accused by Henry again. "How could I not know?" He hugged himself tightly, worried what Watson would think of him. "I know that it is immoral, unnatural, tainted-- yes. And that I still sleep with men, despite knowing that God hates it, makes me a sinner of the worst kind, as evil as a murderer or a thief, but..." Jeannot sighed and shrugged, helpless to explain. "I am weak after all, you see," he said quietly, closing his eyes tightly, not wanting to look up and face his new friend's scorn or disgust.
simplysidhe
Jan. 14th, 2007 01:43 am (UTC)
Watson stood, a little stunned, looking down at Jeannot, who had just articulated everything that he had been thinking for the past eight years. He reached out again for Jeannot's hand, and pressed it. "No weaker than I," he said, voice quiet, in an attempt at comforting him.
mouette_mots
Jan. 14th, 2007 02:12 am (UTC)
Jeannot squeezed Watson's hand gratefully, looking up at him with sad blue eyes. "I think you are stronger than I will ever be, my friend," he told him, thinking of the steadfast way Watson bore the news that Holmes was not faithful to him alone. "But I thank you nonetheless," he added softly, meaning it truthfully. Jeannot stood, shakily, still clasping Watson's hand as though his life depended on it, and looked at Gabe again, wishing once more that he could forget all of this and wake up in his own bed with his lover.
simplysidhe
Jan. 14th, 2007 02:23 am (UTC)
"And you are very welcome," Watson replied, smiling gently. "I don't think myself particularly strong. It is only the working in so many dangerous situations. I am obligated to learn to keep a calm head."
mouette_mots
Jan. 14th, 2007 02:35 am (UTC)
Jeannot nodded. "My friend Henri is studying to be a doctor as well," he said, determinedly fixing upon any topic which was not likely to start him crying again. "You might like him, I think. He is a very serious young man with a kind heart." Jeannot smiled, and looked up to see Holmes and Gabe coming toward them. He fixed his eyes on his love, happier than ever to see him, and stepped toward him, letting Watson's hand go as he went to Gabe's side.
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holmes, oscar, byron, nineteenth century
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