Sharing With Sherlock
Sherlock-“Please, call me Sherlock Mary, after all we’re practically family now, smirk”-had, knowing of their meagre funds, offered up his brother’s estate for the Watsons’ honeymoon.
Mary had managed to hang on to John just long enough to consummate their union before he’d been dragged off. Clearly she and her “practically-a-brother-in-law” were going to need to have another talk about the exact definition of the verb “to share”. Namely: to use or enjoy something jointly or in turns, e.g. There is only one John Watson, so we will have to share him.
So far the men had been fishing, hunting, riding and Sherlock was apparently trying to teach John how to improve his score at billiards.
She’d heard the rumours of course, who had not?
“Oh yes, Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson. Practically inseparable, they are.” This would be accompanied by a significant look, and a tactfully murmured, “They’re a little bit abnormal, if you take my meaning dear.”
She didn’t mind, not really, when John disappeared with the odd, scruffy little man during the daylight hours. However, she had been quite looking forward to being married as far as evenings were concerned.
The disappearances continued on for several days until Mary had considered taking up tapestry. She had then considered taking up cyanide at the thought and was only waylaid by the tertiary thought of Sherlock leaning over her and proclaiming, “As you can see by the dilation and placement of the pupil doctor, she must have expired mid-eye roll-”
No. That would not do at all.
She was further waylaid from such morbid musings when the threesome received an unexpected guest one morning. Well, it was certainly unexpected for Mary. John didn’t even look up from the newspaper when a dishevelled Sherlock entered the room trailing a woman clad solely in a pink dressing gown.
Unashamed of the fact that she was almost naked in front of a perfect stranger she introduced herself as, “Irene Adler. You must be the famous Mary; from what Sherlock has told me of you I’m sure we will become fast friends.”
“Irene is an old…associate of mine. She will no doubt be straining the bounds of our acquaintance for the rest of the week,” said Sherlock, staring at the sugar tongs as if dimly trying to recollect their function.
Miss Adler smiled winningly at Mary, who sat frozen with her teacup half to her lips trying to quell the urge to blurt “But you’re a woman!”
She managed a shaky “Hello,” before taking a fortifying sip of Earl Grey.
Miss Adler reclined languidly and helped herself to crumpets and jam. Sherlock (having recollected the purpose of the tongs) availed himself to five sugar lumps under the twin glares of the couple Watson. The group passed a peaceful ten minutes before Sherlock set down his cup with a clatter and jumped to his feet.
“The bees!” was his only exclamation before fleeing the room.
John glanced nervously at his wife, who rolled her eyes and made flapping go on, go after him before he poisons himself/sets something on fire/blows up the manor/actually kills the dog hand motions at him until he left.
The ladies sat in silence for a while. Mary tried to think of a polite way of broaching the subject and found none.
“What kind of significant pause associate are you, Miss Adler?”
Irene smiled slowly in surprised delight, looking at her as if she was a puppy that had just performed an unexpected trick. She reached across the table, the robe slipping off of her shoulder as she took Mary’s hand in hers. She smoothed over the engagement ring with her thumb and stared into Mary’s eyes.
“Call me Irene. Tell me Mary, would you like to know the story of this stone?”
Well, what harm could it do? What with the men leaving them alone for God knows how long to-
Oh.
Mary quickly reassessed the situation and decided that if the men were going to neglect their guest, she would just have to entertain her until they got back.
A lot of left over cream ended up being employed in this effort at being a good hostess.
So no. None of them were “normal”. But who aspired to mediocrity, anyway?