In all honesty, where things concerned one Sherlock Holmes, nothing really surprised Watson anymore.

Dr. John H. Watson had seen his colleague and friend in various states of mind over the years, had seen the man commit various acts that might be considered appalling, shocking, dumbfounding, or even downright immoral, all in the sake of finding that last clue to solve whatever case he had committed himself to.

Holmes had starved himself (though he simply described it as having forgotten about meals due to more pressing matters), 'killed' Watson's pet Bulldog at least half a dozen times, refused to let anyone clean up the absolute mess he made of their shared lodgings, and often scared the bajeezus out of the landlady and neighbors. His various experiments had all but destroyed the sitting room he had commandeered for his own purposes--experiments usually pertaining to poisons, traps, oddball theories and inventions he came up with, and whatever else one may have been able to imagine.

It was for this reason that when Watson entered said sitting room and found Holmes suspended upside-down from the ceiling, tangled and contorted oddly in loops and knots of ropes, with a very disgruntled look on his face, he found nothing strange in the sight whatsoever.

Holmes was grunting and twisting around, apparently struggling to free himself from the quite uncomfortable-looking, awkward predicament he was now stuck in. "Bloody...weight must've been applied wrong...knots came loose..." He grumbled, attempting to kick at a knot supporting his weight, as his hands were twisted in a manner that left him unable to make use of them. His struggles eventually twisted the ropes around, and Holmes caught sight of Watson standing by the door. He brightened.

"Ah, Watson, my friend! Perfect timing. I was just--"

Watson granted the other man simply a cocked eyebrow and uninterested gaze.

"...Well what matters is that I need your help, I suppose."

"One would think so." Watson replied, dryly. Removing his hat and coat and setting them aside, he crossed the floor to stand near the dangling detective. "What happened?" He asked, placing his hands on his hips, eyeing the ropes with mild interest and confusion.

Once again kicking at the knot just out of reach of his one free foot, Holmes simply answered, "Experiment."

"It didn't work?"

"Oh no." Holmes sighed, an irritable look on his face. He gave up kicking at the knot. "It worked. Just not as I had imagined it would."

There was a pause as both men simply gazed across at each other, one with a look of dry humor and the other simply looking frustrated that despite having help he was still not free from the mess he had caught himself in.

"In other words," Watson began, "it didn't work."

Holmes scowled.

"Quite so, Watson. Now help me down."