Title: The Goat and The Ram: Part 1
Author: moondreams87
Rating: PG
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Warnings: None, really
Word Count: This part - 4,558
Disclaimer: I do not own any characters herein, they belong to Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This is just the product of an overactive imagination…
Summary: A new 'folly' feature makes an appearance in the newspaper, much to Watson's amusement. Holmes, however, is uncharacteristically stricken by it…
Author's Note #1: My first Holmes fic! I've no idea where this came from, to be honest, I just ran with it. I have to apologise that it's only part one, I have been trying to write this for months and keep getting distracted. I figure if I post something and maybe people like it, it will give me the kick up the backside I need to finish it! (I have the end complete, it's just that middleyness...)
Author's Note #2: My knowledge of Victorian newspapers is next to nothing so please excuse inaccuracies, I used much artistic license, haha. I also apologise if Holmes is OOC, I am of the belief that Watson is the one person that can make him take leave of his senses and this is basically an illustration of that! Using the commonly attributed birthdays of January 6th for Holmes and March 31st for Watson. Oh, and despite my Tony/Steve fangirly-ness, the mention of a Captain Rogers in this fic was purely unintentional as I wasn't in the fandom when I wrote it, I just left it as is because it amused me. Anyway, hope you like!

Tuesday

"Hm." The small sound, one of surprise and interest Holmes noted, drifted to his sharp ears from across the drawing room as he concentrated on measuring the rather potent chemicals that had arrived that morning.

"A case, Watson? Something that might drag me out of this dull stupor I find myself in?" He asked, never taking his eyes off his task at hand but acutely aware of Watson flicking the paper down to watch him.

"Afraid not, old boy. In fact, it seems even the press are having a hard time finding things worthy of print as they've added this rather odd feature today."

"Oh?" He felt he should respond, for the doctor's sake, despite the fact that he had instantly lost interest. Anything that didn't pertain to potential work was not worth his attention right at that moment. But he wasn't so far gone in his black mood to shut Watson out, he rather liked having him around when he was lost for things to do.

"Horoscopes. It says that by analysing the stars and planets' alignment alongside the date of your birth, they can predict what is in store for you in the future."

Holmes scoffed, both at the description and the slight fascination in the doctor's voice. Still focusing on his measuring, Holmes responded, "There is nothing new about people reading the stars to determine certain courses of action; it can be dated back to the Ancient Egyptians, even. It is, however, complete nonsense. There are far too many factors within a single life – friends, family, environment, health, location – for things to be determined by something as ambivalent as celestial bodies."

This time it was Watson's turn to scoff, shaking his head in an unsurprised manner, "Really Holmes, is there such little room for folly in that logical mind of yours?"

"Quite so, Watson. The stars wouldn't have told me who had run off with Mrs Haverington's jewels or divine who murdered that poor fellow we found behind the Punchbowl last month. Data will. Always data, Watson, nothing is more reliable than the mind."

"Your mind, perhaps. Forgive us mere mortals if we wish to indulge in the illogical once in a while."

Holmes merely waved at him dismissively. "You are free to do and read what you please. But I have even less hope for the minds of this great city if they are being subjected to such bunkum. By people we rely on for cold, hard facts no less!"

Watson emitted a long-suffering sigh as he chose to ignore the despondent Holmes, looking over the article to find the passage relevant to himself.

"Ah-ha, here I am: Aries. Let's see…Huh. 'You will find yourself caught up in a whirlwind romance which will not be short on passion, danger and drama.' I think I get enough danger, already, don't you?" Watson asked, with a light-hearted laugh.

He looked up to see Holmes quickly roll the tenseness out of his shoulders and concentrate with a renewed ferocity upon his chemicals. When an unprecedented silence fell upon the room, Holmes looked up in Watson's direction to find the doctor looking back at him with an expectant expression, paper still poised in front of him.

With an exaggerated roll of his eyes, Holmes spoke up, "Fine, if you insist on dragging me into this inanity…January 6th." His lips twitched in the smallest of smiles as he watched the boyish glint in his doctor's eyes as they roamed the page for the relevant passage.

"Oh, Holmes. Who could you have upset now?" Watson said with a mock sigh, smothering a laugh as Holmes frowned at him in annoyance at being strung along. "Capricorn: 'Your relationship with a friend will be ending soon, reasons cited being a need to develop and move on.' Dear, oh dear."

Watson looked up a second too late to see the spectacular way Holmes' face blanched, before instantly straightening out into something perfectly neutral. He shrugged, aloofly, "If that is their prerogative, they are entitled to do so. I don't need friends that are not happy being such." He replied, rather rigidly.

"Quite." Watson countered, albeit somewhat reservedly, sensing that something had just happened to dampen the jovial atmosphere but not being able to identify what. They sat in silence for a few more minutes before Watson caught sight of the time.

"Hang it all! My patients; I completely forgot! Excuse me, won't you, Holmes? I have an early appointment."

Holmes waved him off in a shooing motion as he poured some volatile substance into a beaker, not even bothering to bid him goodbye as he slipped out of the door.

He listened intently until he heard the seventeen steps be descended and the front door opened and closed before turning his attention to the paper that now lay folded in Watson's chair, scowling at it like it had just insulted him.

Abandoning the experiment he had actually completed 10 minutes prior, he grabbed the offending material, opening it at exactly the right page.

The Daily Horoscopes – Your Future Written in the Stars

He scoffed again, the absurdity of it all very apparent to him and yet he couldn't stop his eyes from seeking out the image of a goat and the damning sentence beside it.

Your relationship with a friend will be ending soon, reasons cited being a need to develop and move on.

He read it several times, digesting each and every single word but really only focusing on two: A friend.

A friend.

The only problem was, Holmes only had one friend. Or at least, only one person he deemed worthy of friendship. And this friend was about to get caught up in a 'whirlwind romance' and leave him. Of course, it seemed fairly obvious now. Now that his practice was taking off and he was getting substantial business, he would want to build his career and settle down with a family; something that would be an impossibility when he is wasting his time being dragged on wild chases in the underworld of London. Not exactly the place for a respected doctor like John Watson.

Holmes suddenly burst out laughing; just one, loud bark that echoed through the empty room. This was ludicrous! The great Sherlock Holmes falling victim to the ramblings of astrologers and their hokum. With an air of superiority, he dropped the paper back onto Watson's chair, deciding to partake in much more worthwhile activities like sulking on his tiger skin rug.

Which was how Watson found him hours later when he returned home. A quick glance at Holmes' seven per-cent solution and Watson let out a quick breath, relieved to see that it seemed to be untouched.

"Still no cases, I take it?" He said, breaking the heavy silence as he shrugged out of his jacket and set about stoking the fire.

Holmes didn't bother opening his eyes as he sardonically quipped, "Excellent deduction, Watson. We'll make a detective of you yet."

Watson chuckled, kicking Holmes in the ribs so he would at least sit up and appear somewhat presentable. Looking at the doctor, Holmes could immediately tell that it had been a rough day, probably down to the recent bout of influenza that had been plaguing the city. He stood himself up and made his way over to the tea-tray that Mrs Hudson had brought in minutes earlier in anticipation of the doctors arrival home.

"I believe that today has been a rather unwanted experience in both of our cases and so, might I suggest that we see it out with some tea, then maybe later some brandy and one of the finer cigars in our possession?"

Watson gave a small smile, surprised at the detective's thoughtfulness. Not that he was never thoughtful, but when he was suffering a lack of work, he just tended to want to keep to himself.

"I would like that very much, Holmes."

Holmes passed him the steaming beverage, taking his own as he settled back down on the rug.

"My day wasn't a total loss, though, I suppose." Watson suddenly said after several minutes of companionable silence.

"Oh?" This time, an 'oh' of actual interest.

"One of my patients, Charlie…His governess brought him in today; Mary. Quite a remarkable young woman…"