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Interlude on a Train
By Taleya
"Well that seemed rather anticlimactic." Watson sat his hat upon the rack above
the carriage seats and settled himself down, propping his cane against the
window sill as the train began to leave the station.
"It had to happen, sooner or later. Law of averages does state that as clichéd
as it may sound, sometimes the butler really *is* responsible." Holmes threw
himself carelessly into the couch beside him, toeing off his boots.
"Put your shoes back on."
"My feet desire air, Watson, and air they shall have." He grunted at that and
determinedly opened his paper. Hopefully Holmes would find some other amusement
in the passing scenery.
Apparently he did. It was a record of nearly ten minutes before the antics
started.
Watson was halfway through an article on the new expansion of the London
Waterworks when Holmes put hand on his thigh. With a sigh he picked it up,
dropping it on the seat between them and turned another page on his paper, not
even bothering to dignify the behaviour with a verbal response. Unabashed,
Holmes scooted closer until their knees were touching, and put his hand back -
this time on the inner thigh.
Watson picked the hand up and held it in the air, fingers curled tightly about
the wrist, balancing his paper on his knees as he continued to read. Holmes
immediately responded by putting his other hand square on Watson's
crotch.
With a stifled growl, Watson grabbed that hand too, paper flying to the floor as
he turned in his seat to pin the great detective to the overstuffed back of the
carriage seat, hands trapped above his head. "Holmes..."
Holmes gave him an unutterably filthy grin and tilted his hips, shifting in low,
tight circles. Watson stared down at him, a flush spreading across his features,
breathing heavily through his nose, then pushed himself away, running a hand
down his front in a sharp gesture and throwing himself into the seat opposite.
"Holmes, no."
"Really? I thought it was rather promising." He reached out across the booth
with his legs, bare toes wriggling at the bulge in the taller man's crotch.
"Good god, Holmes, what are you trying to do?" He batted at the toes - were they
trying to undo his trousers? Good lord, they'd already managed two buttons.
"Holmes! No! For god's sake man, we're on a public train -
"- in a private carriage - "
"- what if someone walks in on us?"
"My dear doctor, for such an event to so occur, they would have to get past the
blinds, the lock and - " his leg slid sideways. "My shoe. Which appears to be
unaccountably wedged rather tightly in the track of the door." He walked his
toes delicately up Watson's chest. "And it is a very long ride back to
London...."
Watson stared at him, teeth worrying slightly at his lip. Holmes let himself
slouch lower in his seat, hands still above his head, tilting his head back
oh-so slightly and to the side to expose the curve of his throat in a debauched
manner he knew never failed to enflame, quietly exulting as a familiar devil's
gleam appeared in his companion's eye.
"Get the blinds."
"Gn. Just let me.."
"Hang on. Can't..."
"Damn it...just need..."
"Maybe if we..."
A sudden laugh. "I'm not a bloody contortionist!"
"Really? Most unfortunate."
"Hang on, my leg won't.....Damn and blast it!"
"It's the carriage seat. It's too low."
"Perhaps I should get you a cushion."
"Ah ha ha. Perhaps we should swap places. "
"Why don't we ..."
"Ahh yes. the window sill!"
William Hodges did not live a very interesting life. It consisted mostly of
cows, cows, and more cows, with a strong possibility of further cows to follow.
There were also indications of a bovine afterthought.
He would have rather liked to have branched out into something more - possibly
involving geese - but the probability of such a deviation seemed remote at best.
So he contented himself with occasional forays to see the great steam engines as
they cut across the back hedge of his farm.
He could hear the whistle of the train as it approached, slowing down to account
for the grade of the track. He absently petted the cow's ears, noting that it
was a passenger train, bound for London town.
There was something odd further down the train however. There seemed to be a
dark head protruding from the window. He thought it was someone's overexcited
child at first, then noted the size of it, and the deep tones it seemed to be
emitting.
The head was behaving in a most-peculiar fashion; bobbing in and out the window,
as if being simultaneously pushed and pulled by some force within. He also
seemed to be shouting something, but the words were lost under the clatter of
the wheels.
The figure suddenly seemed to see him and raised a hand in greeting as the train
grew closer, the other hand grasping the sill of the window, unbalancing himself
and almost mashing face-first into the side of the window frame.
"spLENdid COw!" the words raised and faded in volume as the crazed jerking
became more intense, pulling him almost entirely from the window before coming
back into view.
As the train grew closer, Hodges could see that it was, indeed a man. Most
probably a maniac. Judging by his frantic flailing his travelling companions
were probably attempting to pull him away from his mad ranting at the cow. The
train began to pick up speed again, wheels roaring louder and the carriages
beginning to flash past faster and faster until they were almost a blur.
"TOP OF THE MORNING MY FRIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNND"
the dark-haired maniac howled on the way past.
Hodges snorted. Londoners. Bloody great lunatics, the lot of them.
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