This takes place before the 2009 film – Holmes is in between cases and needs something to keep his mind stimulated.
It had been two months since his last case and Holmes was beginning to loose sight of reality. He was becoming lost within all the research and the many experiments he had conducted whilst in between jobs, and now looking across his junkyard of a room, he concluded that many of them would never work or that they had become so lost amongst the clutter that they were a lost cause.
He had written a list somewhere at some time in his life. A list of experiments he wished to perform if time abided. He would look for that very list and start the next, untouched idea he had once had a good six months ago. After all, he needed something to keep him busy, otherwise he would end up accidentally shooting that suspicious landlady or throwing his and Watson's dog out the window from a crazed state of boredom.
Holmes sat up momentarily from his laying position on the floor and wondered for a moment where exactly that dog was, but then he was distracted by that list of experiments. Dear Watson must have come into his room and stacked all of the strewn papers into a neat pile on his desk. Naturally Holmes never liked his stuff to be touched, but that never really applied to Watson. None of Holmes' pet peeves ever really applied to Watson.
Getting up, rather stiffly, Holmes made his way to his desk and began reading the list he had written so long ago. Most of the items he had either attempted or finished already, actually it was all but one item. The last item on the list had been left untried and forgotten. It brought a slight smile to the detective's face.
It was one of his more outlandish ideas and Watson would probably be anything but happy once he found out what he was up to, but on the other hand, the idea was stimulating in more than one way to Holmes and he had to deduce way this idea had him so… excited.
It would take him at least a week to acquire the correct items.
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~A Week Later~
Holmes had been surprisingly successful in not letting his friend in on any of the details of his upcoming experiment, especially since it heavily involved the doctor. After all, Watson was the main subject. But then again, Holmes had become quite talented at leaving Watson out of a lot of potent information so maybe it wasn't so surprising after all.
Although it may be immoral, the best results came when the subject was unaware of the experiment at hand.
Holmes had to conduct the trail at the perfect time. He had to prepare the experiment in the kitchen, before Watson got back, otherwise Watson would find it extremely suspicious that Holmes was in the kitchen at all, none the less actually cooking something edible.
Watson would be back in no more than an hour so Holmes knew he had to move quickly otherwise the experiment would just have to wait until another day and that seemed quite disappointing to Holmes. He confirmed the disappointment he felt and logged it into the many folders of his brain. This particular research he was doing at the moment was causing some very odd and unexpected feelings to emerge that he could not simply ignore. After all, the smallest details were the most important.
He cooked to the best of his ability, whilst trying to ignore the blatant stares of disapproval from the landlady. He cooked until just five minutes before Watson was expected home and then ambled up to his room to set everything up.
His timing was perfect. Always perfect.
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Watson arrived home just as always, warmly greeting the landlady and taking off his heavy coat and hanging it on the coat stand in the front hallway.
He wasn't even completely on the second step up to his room before he heard Holmes calling out for him.
"Watson! Watson! Is that you?"
"Yes, Holmes," the doctor answered. His voice held a hint of annoyance, but really the doctor wasn't annoyed at all. He ascended the steps and didn't bother knocking before his entered the detective's room. "What is it, Holmes?"
Watson was a little shocked to find the detective somewhat cleanly dressed and sitting neatly at a table near the window. A table set for two was arranged in front of Holmes and a covered pot was the centerpiece.
Holmes put out his hand, gesturing for the doctor to sit. "Please, sit."
Immediate suspicion registered for the doctor. This was surely one of Holmes' plans to coax Watson into giving him what he wanted. This was cause for some serious concern from Watson, because for some damned reason he couldn't say no to this man! He always gave in to Holmes' crazy schemes and plots, and what was scariest was that he always wanted to give in to them. He liked making this silly genius happy. It in return always made him happy.
Cautiously Watson made his way to the table and sat across from Holmes. "Holmes, what is this about?"
"I made you dinner," Holmes said, lifting the pot's top and looking expectantly at the doctor. "I hope you did not have other plans."
"No," Watson replied slowly. "I didn't."
"Great," Holmes said animatedly, sort of twitching in that way he did sometimes.
Watson took in the detail around him. He had been Holmes' partner long enough to pick up on some of his traits and know the importance of detail. The detective had chosen wine as the drink and had actually lit some candles. Watson's eyes narrowed as he noticed some of the side items on the table. There were strawberries, dark chocolate and oysters.
"Sort of an odd mix," Watson stated, nodding toward the side items.
"Hmm? Really?" Holmes said, seemingly finding no oddity amongst the foods of choice. "Just eat. Relax."
Watson spooned out some of the soup that was in the large pot and poured it into his bowl. He stirred the contents momentarily before glancing up at Holmes. "Having any?"
"Oh, yes. Of course," Holmes replied, mimicking Watson's earlier movements and retrieving some soup for himself.
Watson sighed heavily, shaking his head. "You're acting strange Holmes," he said, sipping the soup.
Holmes watched him intently.
"Hmm, this is actually pretty good," Watson said, swallowing a couple more spoonfuls. "What exactly is in this?"
"Oh…" Holmes waved his hand nonchalantly. "A bunch of different ingredients." He picked up a strawberry and took a small bite. "Mucuna pruriens, Eurycoma longifolia, Socratea exorrhiza…" he trailed off gradually, eating the rest of his strawberry.
"What?" Watson said, not quite putting his spoon down but obviously considering it. "What exactly are those ingredients and how long do I have before they start to take effect?"
"I'm not going to tell you what they are and I'm not really quite sure when they will take effect."
"Look, Holmes!" Watson said, slamming his spoon down. "I'm not Gladstone! You can't just experiment on me." Watson stood, running a hand through his hair. "You've gone too far this time."
"Watson, wait!" Holmes stood, but was met only with the slamming of his own door.
Watson made his way quickly to his room and pulled out a very old, extremely large book. Inside it had every known herb and plant known to man and if he could remember the names correctly he would figure out just what Holmes was up to.
The first name was Mucuna pruriens. Thumbing through the pages Watson finally found the plant and began reading the description aloud. "Is an annual… climbing shrub with long vines… 15 m in length. When the plant is young… completely covered with fuzzy hairs, but when older…" Watson skipped down to the more important information, like the side effects of ingesting it or how poisonous it was to humans. He eyes scanned but it found nothing that sounded dangerous; in fact he found something quite the opposite. He read the word three or four more times before moving on to the next ingredient.
Both Eurycoma longifolia and Socratea exorrhiza had the same exact effect and Watson stood, leaning over his book for a couple moments, just thinking. What in the world was Holmes thinking?
Before he thought better of it, he made his way back to Holmes' bedroom and barged right through the doors. Not surprisingly, Holmes was positioned in the exact same place that Watson had left him.
Startled, Holmes looked up at him, freezing slightly. "I guess you have deduced what the—"
"Deduced what the experiment was?" Watson cut him off. "All those ingredients…" he pointed towards the table. "They're all aphrodisiacs! Holmes, what were you thinking?"
"I was simply putting an unsolved query to the test my good friend."
"Unsolved query," Watson repeated, obviously not finding the logic in Holmes' experiment. "Why me? Why would you make me the subject?"
"Because it is you that I trust the most," Holmes replied, standing again and moving toward Watson. "And I felt that it would be much more appropriate to do to you and not to Gladstone."
"Well think again Holmes," Watson said. "It didn't work anyways. I am in no way aroused right now."
The detective moved towards the door and in a very uncharacteristic fashion slid the bolt and locked the door. "You sure about that?"
The entire action Holmes just performed was stealthy and not entirely of good and pure intentions, and Watson couldn't help but turn his eyes away, feeling an emotion he was not quite expecting. What Holmes just did was… sexy.
"Averting the eyes," Holmes said, watching the doctor closely. "A sign of discomfort, embarrassment… you're hiding something."
"No, Holmes…"
The detective moved over, quicker than the doctor expected, and was within a foot of him within a second. "You're sweating slightly, just along your brow," Holmes reached out to touch Watson's forehead but Watson pulled back quickly, ungracefully.
"Sweating, avoiding my gaze, avoiding my touch… my dear friend, it doesn't appear that you're feeling nothing."
"Holmes," Watson began but then he bumped into the wall behind him and he was cornered before he knew it. Holmes stepped towards him, closing what little space was between them. "Holmes," he said quieter this time. "What are you doing?"
"I am performing an experiment and making decisions based off of the data that I find," Holmes answered. "Your pupils are slightly dilated… your breathing has quickened… your…" he placed his index and middle finger against Watson's neck. "Heart rate has significantly increased… and…" he looked down. "Your pants have suddenly become too small."
Watson visibly swallowed, staring intently into the detective's eyes. "And your conclusion?"
"My conclusion is that if I do this…" he leaned forward and placed his lips lightly against Watson's, moving his hand up and guiding his fingers through the hair on the back of Watson's head. "I will get a positive response."
A moment of complete stillness settled inside the room, silence filling the moment. Both the detective and the doctor stared at each other.
"Oh," Watson said softly. "What have you done Holmes?" He punctuated his statement with his lips forcefully meeting Holmes again, but this time it was not soft but passionate and stimulating. The force caused Holmes to stumble a couple steps back, but he responded to the kiss, pushing back as well.
Watson discarded his cane and used both hands to feel Holmes. First he traveled over the hair on the back of the detective's neck and then to the taut muscles of his back and sides. "So, what are your conclusions on aphrodisiacs?"
Holmes' fingers work at the doctor's belt, successfully unlatching it and moving to the buttons on Watson's shirt. "I think that they are completely and utterly a myth… a fabrication."
Watson pulled away. "What?"
"Come on, Watson," Holmes grinned. "The experiment was never about the aphrodisiacs. It was about how I was going to get you to finally admit what you feel for me… to get you to succumb to me."
Watson shook his head, but he smiled while doing so. "Always withholding valuable information from me."
"Well, I'd say this experiment is officially concluded. Data confirmed," Holmes stated.
Watson stood, pants unbuckled, shirt halfway undone, hair unkempt, staring at Holmes with what can only be described as pure lust, and leaned in to Holmes, only a centimeter from the detective's lips. "And what are you going to do with your subject?"
Holmes couldn't help but grin.