Chapter Two

Author's note: *wipes sweat from brow* Woo! Chapter 2! Hope you enjoy it! Much love and appreciation for the wonderful feedback!

"I really don't understand how everybody's assistance is nece-SSARY!" Holmes said as he was shoved into the bathroom and spun around by Ethan, Jasper, and Orson. They tore at his clothes.

Watson and Wilfred remained in the parlor. Watson shifted awkwardly, pretending to be interested in the decor surrounding him. WIlfred began to whistle as he went about his business in the kitchen, and then hum, and finally began to sing. Watson could hear him chopping vegetables, and a delicious aroma traveled out of the room. It smelled warm and buttery and hot.

"So you and the lil' rabbit, eh, Doctor?" Wilfred called between tunes. "How long did that take?"

Watson rolled his eyes as he trudged into the kitchen. He stared at Wilfred, whose back was turned to him, busy at the stove. He chopped away at produce like he was cutting cold steel.

"Not sure," the doctor muttered. His eyes followed Wilfred's hands as they dumped the chopped potatoes, onions, and greens into a boiling pot.

"Isn't that the truth," Wilfred chuckled. "For everybody."

"Are you with Orson?" Watson quizzed, trying to sound like he was making simple conversation.

"No." The other man turned to him, wiping his hands on his apron. "Good friend, though, that Orson. He looks big on the outside, but inside, he's a pint-sized spit of a man." He stirred around in the pot with a large spoon. "I didn't even know him before I moved here."

Watson opened his mouth to say something else, but he was cut off by various voices coming from down the hall.

"Watson!" Holmes, naked and covered in soap, slid into the kitchen, gripping the frame of the walkway. "Help."

"Sherlock!" Edward followed suit, holding a large, squishy sponge in one hand, and a fancy looking container in the other. "You're tracking water and soap all over the floor."

"They're trying to kill me!" Holmes slipped a little more as he staggered towards Watson, gripping onto his shirt.

"We tried to tweeze his eyebrows," Edward explained, shrugging. "He didn't like it."

"Holmes..." Watson blushed, embarrassed for him. "Look at yourself."

"Just like I said." Wilfred grinned. "Hello, there, Sherlock! My, don't you smell lovely!"

"Alright." Jasper rolled his eyes. "We'll do away with the tweezers, but at least come back and let us rinse you off."

"And powder you!" Edward chirped. He lowered his eyes when Jasper stared at him. "Or not."

"Come with me," Holmes ordered Watson, staring up at him.

"You're an adult," Watson reminded him. "You shouldn't even have to have others bathe you."

"Um, yes he should," Edward said, wide-eyed. "You should have seen the dirt under his nails and behind his ears."

Holmes looked at Watson again, and the doctor sighed. "I'll...take over..." he said patting the detective's wet hair absent-mindedly.

-----

Back in the washroom, Holmes picked up a towel and began to dry himself. "They're beasts, Watson," he said.

"Well, in their defense," Watson replied, leaning against the far wall. "You were filthy."

"I took a bath earlier this week," Holmes countered. "Tuesday."

"It's Friday." Watson made a face.

"Anyway-" Holmes cleared his throat. "About the case."

Watson waited. When Holmes said nothing, he pressed, "Well?"

"Well what?" Holmes frowned at him.

"About the case," Watson said, gesturing.

Holmes raised his eyes and pursed his lips. He glanced at Watson again. "What case?"

"The case you were just about to talk about!" Watson sputtered in disbelief. "The case that brought us here!"

"Oh." Holmes shook his head, water droplets flying in every direction. He stopped. "That."

Watson rolled his eyes. "Were you going anywhere with that statement?"

Holmes thoroughly looked confused. "I'm not sure." He tossed the towel to the side. "My clothes."

"What about them?" Watson shrugged.

"They're not here." Holmes looked around. "Watson, they stole my clothes."

"I rather like you this way." Watson dared to grin flirtatiously as he looked him up and down.

Holmes faked a sweet smile and then gave him a disgusted look. Watson laughed and removed himself from the wall. "I'll go see about your clothes." He headed for the door and then turned back. "But I honestly and truly wouldn't mind leaving you like this a bit longer."

Holmes shook his strangely slender, feminine hips, making Watson laugh once more. He smiled. He liked making Watson laugh.

--------

"You're in for a real treat," Edward said as they sat down to dinner. "Wilfred makes the best vegetable soup."

"And bread," Jasper added, taking a piece from the large loaf in the center of the table. Edward slapped his hand, giving him a look.

"Aw, you're making me blush!" Wilfred brought a large pot to the table. "Talking about my soup like it's being served to the queen." He looked between the detective and doctor. "My grandmother's recipe."

"Ah." Watson nodded polietly. Holmes said nothing.

Wilfred began to serve everyone, and after he sat, they began to eat. Watson took a suspicious sip of soup, and drew his face back from the spoon. Wilfred watched him.

"How is it?" He asked, taking a spoonful of his own soup.

"It's good," Watson said, trying to sound neutral. He still didn't trust the man.

"Sherlock?" Edward turned to the other guest.

Holmes had the bowl so close to his mouth as he gorged that his face was barely visible. He nodded, not even removing the dish to reply. The others laughed, even Orson.

"It's so nice to have you two back," Edward said, sighing contently. His smile fell, just a little. Jasper took notice and reached over to rub his shoulder.

"If I'd known that Ethan James," Wilfred said, shaking his spoon. "I'd given him a piece of my mind."

"We never suspected him," Edward said quietly. "And he loved Richard so fiercely."

"Can we not talk about him while we're eating?" Jasper dropped his spoon in his bowl and scooted his chair back. "I mean, all I can say is I hope he rots in Hell."

"Jasper!" Edward's eyes widened.

"He murdered my best friend," Jasper said. "He deceived us all. He tried to kill me!" He gestured to Holmes and Watson. "He tried to kill them!"

"Oh, how I'd loved to tear him to smithereens!" Wilfred boomed, slicing away at his bread loaf with crazy eyes. He was also pouring sweat.

"I hate him!" Jasper stood up and kicked his chair, knocking it over. "He ruined our lives, and we can never go back!"

"NEVER!" Wilfred bellowed, raising his fist and shaking it.

Watson and Holmes sat frozen in place like squirrels, watching silently. Jasper took a few deep breaths and wiped at the back of his eyes. "Excuse me," he said, leaving the room.

Nobody said anything for a moment, and Wilfred broke the silence with the clinking of his spoon against his bowl. "For dessert," he said, slurping. "I made cherry tart."

------

Holmes and Watson were preparing for bed when rapping sounded at their bedroom door. Watson opened it. Edward waved a sheet of paper in his face.

"Another letter?" Watson took it from him.

Holmes jumped out of bed and raced out the door, flinging himself over the banister rail. They heard him tear open the front door and run outside.

"Holmes..." Watson muttered, closing his eyes and shaking his head.

"Read it," Edward coaxed.

Watson opened the letter.

Your new pets can't save you, Orson. I'm going to get you. I'm going to bathe your friends in your blood, or perhaps I shall bathe you in their blood....

Montgomery

"He's watching the house," Watson muttered. He ran his index finger down the paper. The ink smeared. He looked at Edward. "Either that or he's in the house."

To Be Continued....