As promised, the third and final chapter. I'm sad to hear that you'll miss it, and yet happy that you like it enough to miss it. ^_^

But I really need to stop asking for "encouragement" for I now feel a little nervous with both Starkreactor and StealerOfDreams. But seriously, thanks for the reviews guys.

Thanks to all who complimented my ability of making a good Holmes/Watson bromance. And also a thanks to those who complimented my writing. Your words hit home. Really. My health bar is full.

Thanks so much and I hope to hear from you all in the future. Keep on reading.

The Gambler and the Guinea Pig

Chapter 3:

Watson sighed and opened his mouth to allow the tale of his night to tumble out.

"Yes, I did go down to the pub," Watson started. He didn't feel the need to add that it was the pub Holmes had specifically told him to avoid. Holmes probably knew which pub it was already anyway.

"And yes I participated in a game of cards." Nor did he find it particularly necessary to explain exactly how much money he had lost or with what hands his coat and hat had been taken from him.

"But the dealer was cheating. I called him on it and he had his lackeys throw me out. One of the brutes managed to give me this on the way out," Watson continued, brushing a finger across the bruise that colored his jaw.

"But I should have seen the other guy, right?" Holmes offered with a flickering smile.

Watson smiled back, appreciative of Holmes' gesture to try and lighten his spirits. "Right."

But Watson's smile faded quickly as he turned away from Holmes and sank further into his chair. "Anyway, that was my night. Mind you, I didn't help any to find you dead on the floor. I believe I can label this night as one of my worst." He sighed heavily.

Holmes stood suddenly. Wordlessly, he exited the room, leaving Watson feeling slightly dejected and alone in his seat.

He listened as he heard the sounds of Holmes shifting through glass vials in his room; the soft ringing of glass against glass wafting into the room where Watson still sat. What was Holmes doing now?

Before Watson could get up and investigate, Holmes returned, a bottle clasped tightly in his hands.

"Here," Holmes said, holding the vial of clear and unlabeled liquid to Watson. "You need this more than me."

Watson made no move to accept the gift. Instead, he only glared at it disdainfully. "Is that the second test of the flavored Rhododendron?"

"It's grape flavored," Holmes said invitingly.

Watson held up his hand to refuse the liquid. Holmes shrugged and started to pocket the vial.

"On second thought," Watson said hurriedly. He reached out and swiped the vial out of Holmes' hand, "I'd better hang on to this. I don't want a recap of tonight, thank you."

Watson quickly tucked the vial safely away in his own pocket as Holmes returned to his seat, a small smile playing on his lips.

"I'm sorry," he said suddenly, breaking the silence that had stealthily enveloped them once more.

Watson turned his head to meet Holmes' gaze. The detective was no longer smiling but staring back at Watson with fierce sincerity.

"Why?" Watson groaned. "What did you do now?"

"No, I'm sorry for making you worry like that," Holmes explained. Watson was able to detect the softest sound of sympathy mingling with the words. "I didn't mean to scare you."

Watson looked away with a sad nod. Yes, he had truly been scared upon seeing the lifeless body of his dear friend. Scared and devastated to the point of tears. But holding a grudge against Holmes would prove and do nothing. Appreciating the fact that he was still alive however…

"I forgive you, old friend."

Watson smiled warmly at Holmes. Holmes visibly relaxed in his seat, gracing Watson with his own smile that made his eyes sparkle uncharacteristically so.

"Just don't do it again." Watson added in an authoritative tone.

"No promises," Holmes murmured, refilling his pipe.

"What was that, Holmes?"

"My promise," Holmes announced. "You have my promise."

Satisfied, Watson sat back in his chair, sleep tugging once more at his consciousness. Holmes lit his pipe beside him and slowly blew out a puff of smoke from between his lips.

Watson's lips twitched into a wry smile as a thought crossed his mind. He gave Holmes a sideways glance. "I was the gambler and you were the guinea pig, huh. We really need to get out more, or at least get new friends." Watson couldn't help but chuckle dryly at his conclusion.

"Social life is overrated, my dear Watson," Holmes argued with a dismissive wave of his hand and a sardonic sniff. "As for friends, I only need one." Holmes returned Watson's smile. "And he's already here with me."

I tried to sneak a hug in here but the moment never seemed just right. And you should never rush or force a hug.

Well, that is the conclusion. I just love the bromance and I hope I portrayed it well enough. Don't you worry. I have other fanfics on the way.

There is actually another "Sherlock Homes" category in the books sections – since Sherlock Holmes is a book – in case you didn't know. I was debating on whether or not to post in that section too but since I'm using the personalities and physical appearances from the movie, I'll keep it in the movie section. But just you wait, I'll read those books soon enough.

Until next time,
Hobey-Ho