5 Times Watson Hurt Holmes' Feelings: Part Two
Title: Silk Shirts And Tea Cups.
Setting: 09 Movieverse
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash.
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Summary: Part two of my "5 Times Watson Hurt Holmes' Feelings (But made it up to him each time)" fics.
Disclaimer: Obviously doesn't belong to me. If they did I'd make them do naughty things and write bad fan fiction about it. . .
A/N I don't have a beta reader :( Any boo boos you find are mine. . . Also excuse mah bad titles. . .I suck. . .Sorry.
Silk Shirts and Tea Cups.
Watson stomped around the disorderly sitting room shoving displaced items back where they should be and stacking papers up in piles. He cursed under his breath as he came across a tea cup filled with some strange green substance hidden under a shirt. Not just a shirt, his shirt. His best dress shirt. Which now had a huge green stain on it. Sighing in frustration, Watson tossed the shirt into the bin and picked up the cup.
"Holmes? Please come in here a moment." He called out, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, knowing that if Holmes detected it he would remain hidden away in his room. "Holmes?"
He heard shuffling in the next room before Holmes appeared at the door, looking grubby and unkept."Yes Watson?" He asked suspiciously, eyeing Watson's tiding job with displeasure.
"Tell me my dear chap, what in God's name is this?" He held the cup out towards his friend and the detective gasped and snatched it from him.
"Watson! This was my experiment! You've ruined it!" He cried.
"I've ruined it? What of my good shirt Holmes?"
"What of it?"
"What of it? It has been destroyed due to your lack of-"
"I needed it, Watson!I could not conduct this experiment without a silk shirt and I, having no silk shirt of my own, borrowed yours thinking that you would not mind!"
"Holmes, it was my best shirt! Damn your useless experiments, man! What the hell do they prove anyway? What good comes of them, apart from destroying my property?" Watson cried out in anger. "Who really cares about silk and green goop, or. . .Or salt and blood? Or what happens when you leave fruit to rot in different places, for example, in my own bedroom!"
"They matter very much, I'll have you know!" Holmes replied, clutching the teacup to his chest as though to protect it.
"To whom? Hmm? Who would care about your useless, stupid, pointless experiments? What significance, scientific or otherwise, do they have?" Watson shouted.
Holmes lowered his gaze to the cup as Watson continued his rant.
"You need to clean them all up and stop this nonsense. Honestly, you cannot think that any significant scientist is ever going to want to look at your cup of green goop-"
He was cut off as, suddenly, said cup was hurled at the floor and Holmes left the room, slamming the door behind him. Half of Watson was shocked at the outburst, the other wanted to follow Holmes and give him a thrashing for behaving in such a way. Just at that moment, Mrs Hudson opened the sitting room door with their afternoon tea tray.
"Dr Watson, what was all the noise up here? I heard something break-" She paused as she caught sight of her tea cup and the green coagulated substance all over the floor. "What has he done now? Another cup! Another cup, Doctor. At this rate I shall have no dinnerware left and you shall have to eat out of pots and pans and drink from vases!"
"I apologies, Mrs. Hudson. It was my fault. I offended him and he threw it in anger." He admitted.
"He is not a spoilt child who can be forgiven for throwing tantrums, Doctor. He is a grown man and needs to get control over himself!" She slammed the tea tray down on the only clear space on the coffee table with a little too much force.
Watson winced as the tea pot threatened to crack and the sugar cubes flew from their bowl, scattering across the tray. "Please Mrs Hudson. I really did upset him. It was not his fault, for once. I promise to pay for an entire new set tomorrow."
She sniffed indignantly as she brushed her hair back from her cheeks. "Well maybe just some new cups and saucers would be nice." She made to leave before pausing. "Could you please try and get him to wash and give me his clothes to launder? He looks as though he has been living on the street, rather than in a house that owns a bathtub and the means to get hot water."
"Of course." He said to her retreating back. "I do apologies Mrs Hudson."
"Just clean him up and feed him. You know there is no need to apologies, its not like it can change the outcome of these things." She said over her shoulder before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Eyeing the green goop once more and cursing himself for not being able to shut his mouth when he should have, Watson made his way to Holmes' room and knocked on the closed door.
"Holmes? Please open the door. I wish to apologies." He called out gently. Hearing papers being thrown around in the room, Watson pressed his ear to the wood, frowning. "Holmes? Open the door now or I will just come in."
Upon getting no answer, Watson opened the door and stepped into the chaos beyond. He was shocked to find Holmes by the open window tossing arm loads of paper out into the alley below. Instantly realising that the paper was not just paper, but Holmes' work, all of his notes on his experiments and such, Watson rushed over and grabbed him, wrestling him away from the window. Holmes twisted against him and fought to get lose, but Watson held him tightly.
"Stop it! Holmes stop!" He picked him up roughly and tossed him onto his unmade bed, holding him down until he stopped fighting and instead lay under the Doctor's hands, breathing harshly and trembling slightly.
Cautiously, Watson removed his hands and stepped away. He closed the window and ran a palm over his face, taking a deep breath. Walking back to his friend's side, he sat down beside him and rubbed his back.
"You know I didn't mean what I said. I just get annoyed that you do not seem to care about my personal belongings. I did not mean to upset you." Upon getting no answer, he painfully slid to his knees to be face to face with the other man. He smoothed the dark locks back from his face and lent in close. "You know I was only speaking out of anger. I respect everything you do, that includes your experiments."
Again he received no reply so he cupped Holmes, cheek and kissed his forehead. "You shouldn't have thrown all of your notes out of the window, my dear. I have no doubt that your experiments and studies have a greater purpose than what I can see and I apologise that I am too narrow minded to see it. But, my dear, dear boy, you need to keep your things confined to your own room and not take my things and destroy them. I am sorry I have upset you." He kissed him again. "Oneday, we will put all of your notes together and publish a book that only the most brilliant of people will be able to understand. They will all see what significance a silk shirt and tea cup have."
"I didn't mean to ruin the shirt." Holmes whispered sulkily.
"I know. Just, please, ask if you need to borrow anything of mine in the future." He kissed him gently on the lips before raising himself to sit on the edge of the bed again. His leg howled in protest but he ignored it. "I'm sorry I yelled at you and said those nasty things. Forgive me?"
Holmes nodded and allowed the Doctor to sit him up and pull him into his embrace. They stayed that way for a long few minutes. Watson relished the feeling of Holmes
in his arms. For as long as they had been together, he knew that he would never tire of loving this man, no matter how many damn silk shirts he destroyed. Tipping Holmes' head back, Watson kissed him deeply before breaking away.
"You know I love you more than anything in this world, don't you?" He asked.
Holmes nodded and kissed Watson's jaw. "And I you."
Watson grinned at him, ruffling up the detective's dark hair. He knew it was hard for Holmes to ever express his feelings, so every time he did, Watson felt his heart swell with emotion. He really loved this man.
Kissing Holmes' ear, Watson whispered, "Bath time." Swiftly, in one graceful movement, Watson stood and lifted Holmes with him, tossing him over his shoulder. Holmes let out a squark of surprise and Watson laughed as he carried him out of his room and down to fulfil Mrs Hudson's wish of giving the ruffian a good scrub. But, of course, Watson had his own thoughts on how to complete the task and they didn't only involve soap and water.
The next morning as Watson opened the front door onto Baker St, he found a neat pile of papers tied together with a ratty bit of string sitting on the stoop. Smiling, he bent to pick them up and ran a finger over Holmes' messy writing. He really must remember to give the irregulars a few shillings next time he saw them.
Setting: 09 Movieverse
Rating: PG
Warnings: Slash.
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Summary: Part two of my "5 Times Watson Hurt Holmes' Feelings (But made it up to him each time)" fics.
Disclaimer: Obviously doesn't belong to me. If they did I'd make them do naughty things and write bad fan fiction about it. . .
A/N I don't have a beta reader :( Any boo boos you find are mine. . . Also excuse mah bad titles. . .I suck. . .Sorry.
Silk Shirts and Tea Cups.
Watson stomped around the disorderly sitting room shoving displaced items back where they should be and stacking papers up in piles. He cursed under his breath as he came across a tea cup filled with some strange green substance hidden under a shirt. Not just a shirt, his shirt. His best dress shirt. Which now had a huge green stain on it. Sighing in frustration, Watson tossed the shirt into the bin and picked up the cup.
"Holmes? Please come in here a moment." He called out, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice, knowing that if Holmes detected it he would remain hidden away in his room. "Holmes?"
He heard shuffling in the next room before Holmes appeared at the door, looking grubby and unkept."Yes Watson?" He asked suspiciously, eyeing Watson's tiding job with displeasure.
"Tell me my dear chap, what in God's name is this?" He held the cup out towards his friend and the detective gasped and snatched it from him.
"Watson! This was my experiment! You've ruined it!" He cried.
"I've ruined it? What of my good shirt Holmes?"
"What of it?"
"What of it? It has been destroyed due to your lack of-"
"I needed it, Watson!I could not conduct this experiment without a silk shirt and I, having no silk shirt of my own, borrowed yours thinking that you would not mind!"
"Holmes, it was my best shirt! Damn your useless experiments, man! What the hell do they prove anyway? What good comes of them, apart from destroying my property?" Watson cried out in anger. "Who really cares about silk and green goop, or. . .Or salt and blood? Or what happens when you leave fruit to rot in different places, for example, in my own bedroom!"
"They matter very much, I'll have you know!" Holmes replied, clutching the teacup to his chest as though to protect it.
"To whom? Hmm? Who would care about your useless, stupid, pointless experiments? What significance, scientific or otherwise, do they have?" Watson shouted.
Holmes lowered his gaze to the cup as Watson continued his rant.
"You need to clean them all up and stop this nonsense. Honestly, you cannot think that any significant scientist is ever going to want to look at your cup of green goop-"
He was cut off as, suddenly, said cup was hurled at the floor and Holmes left the room, slamming the door behind him. Half of Watson was shocked at the outburst, the other wanted to follow Holmes and give him a thrashing for behaving in such a way. Just at that moment, Mrs Hudson opened the sitting room door with their afternoon tea tray.
"Dr Watson, what was all the noise up here? I heard something break-" She paused as she caught sight of her tea cup and the green coagulated substance all over the floor. "What has he done now? Another cup! Another cup, Doctor. At this rate I shall have no dinnerware left and you shall have to eat out of pots and pans and drink from vases!"
"I apologies, Mrs. Hudson. It was my fault. I offended him and he threw it in anger." He admitted.
"He is not a spoilt child who can be forgiven for throwing tantrums, Doctor. He is a grown man and needs to get control over himself!" She slammed the tea tray down on the only clear space on the coffee table with a little too much force.
Watson winced as the tea pot threatened to crack and the sugar cubes flew from their bowl, scattering across the tray. "Please Mrs Hudson. I really did upset him. It was not his fault, for once. I promise to pay for an entire new set tomorrow."
She sniffed indignantly as she brushed her hair back from her cheeks. "Well maybe just some new cups and saucers would be nice." She made to leave before pausing. "Could you please try and get him to wash and give me his clothes to launder? He looks as though he has been living on the street, rather than in a house that owns a bathtub and the means to get hot water."
"Of course." He said to her retreating back. "I do apologies Mrs Hudson."
"Just clean him up and feed him. You know there is no need to apologies, its not like it can change the outcome of these things." She said over her shoulder before leaving the room, closing the door behind her.
Eyeing the green goop once more and cursing himself for not being able to shut his mouth when he should have, Watson made his way to Holmes' room and knocked on the closed door.
"Holmes? Please open the door. I wish to apologies." He called out gently. Hearing papers being thrown around in the room, Watson pressed his ear to the wood, frowning. "Holmes? Open the door now or I will just come in."
Upon getting no answer, Watson opened the door and stepped into the chaos beyond. He was shocked to find Holmes by the open window tossing arm loads of paper out into the alley below. Instantly realising that the paper was not just paper, but Holmes' work, all of his notes on his experiments and such, Watson rushed over and grabbed him, wrestling him away from the window. Holmes twisted against him and fought to get lose, but Watson held him tightly.
"Stop it! Holmes stop!" He picked him up roughly and tossed him onto his unmade bed, holding him down until he stopped fighting and instead lay under the Doctor's hands, breathing harshly and trembling slightly.
Cautiously, Watson removed his hands and stepped away. He closed the window and ran a palm over his face, taking a deep breath. Walking back to his friend's side, he sat down beside him and rubbed his back.
"You know I didn't mean what I said. I just get annoyed that you do not seem to care about my personal belongings. I did not mean to upset you." Upon getting no answer, he painfully slid to his knees to be face to face with the other man. He smoothed the dark locks back from his face and lent in close. "You know I was only speaking out of anger. I respect everything you do, that includes your experiments."
Again he received no reply so he cupped Holmes, cheek and kissed his forehead. "You shouldn't have thrown all of your notes out of the window, my dear. I have no doubt that your experiments and studies have a greater purpose than what I can see and I apologise that I am too narrow minded to see it. But, my dear, dear boy, you need to keep your things confined to your own room and not take my things and destroy them. I am sorry I have upset you." He kissed him again. "Oneday, we will put all of your notes together and publish a book that only the most brilliant of people will be able to understand. They will all see what significance a silk shirt and tea cup have."
"I didn't mean to ruin the shirt." Holmes whispered sulkily.
"I know. Just, please, ask if you need to borrow anything of mine in the future." He kissed him gently on the lips before raising himself to sit on the edge of the bed again. His leg howled in protest but he ignored it. "I'm sorry I yelled at you and said those nasty things. Forgive me?"
Holmes nodded and allowed the Doctor to sit him up and pull him into his embrace. They stayed that way for a long few minutes. Watson relished the feeling of Holmes
in his arms. For as long as they had been together, he knew that he would never tire of loving this man, no matter how many damn silk shirts he destroyed. Tipping Holmes' head back, Watson kissed him deeply before breaking away.
"You know I love you more than anything in this world, don't you?" He asked.
Holmes nodded and kissed Watson's jaw. "And I you."
Watson grinned at him, ruffling up the detective's dark hair. He knew it was hard for Holmes to ever express his feelings, so every time he did, Watson felt his heart swell with emotion. He really loved this man.
Kissing Holmes' ear, Watson whispered, "Bath time." Swiftly, in one graceful movement, Watson stood and lifted Holmes with him, tossing him over his shoulder. Holmes let out a squark of surprise and Watson laughed as he carried him out of his room and down to fulfil Mrs Hudson's wish of giving the ruffian a good scrub. But, of course, Watson had his own thoughts on how to complete the task and they didn't only involve soap and water.
The next morning as Watson opened the front door onto Baker St, he found a neat pile of papers tied together with a ratty bit of string sitting on the stoop. Smiling, he bent to pick them up and ran a finger over Holmes' messy writing. He really must remember to give the irregulars a few shillings next time he saw them.