Posted by Bowen Cates on 3/7/2008, 10:14 pm, in reply to "Chapter nine part one"
24.207.121.197
Maybe it was that 1800 century Holmes came from a time when first names where somewhat of a non-factor for anyone who wasn’t a family member, or married to the person.
In fact, Theodore had noticed from the very beginning Mr. Holmes’ aversion to addressing him by the traditional title for boys of the 1800s, that of ‘Master’. He had to admit that he was grateful for this insight on the part of the detective, as it would have made Theodore feel more then a bit awkward as he associated the term with a young cripple who had poisoned his own half brother.
And since Theodore didn’t much like that idea of being called ‘Trent’, ‘Mr. Trent’ seemed a fair compromise.
“So…” Theodore ventured in an attempt to draw a response from his silent companion. “Do you want to go meet yourself now? Or…”
The Victorian’s facial expression was not promising.
“…not”
You could tell Holmes was leaning toward the latter However, he, the man of infinite and iron logic, seemed to be giving himself a bit of a pep talk.
His face seemed to alternate between two different expressions, changing every few seconds much like two people locked in silent confrontation.
Finally, he seemed to have made a decision. Because his expression fixed it’s self into a determined frown and he dropped his other foot resignedly off the bed to join it’s partner on the floor.
Theodore had to admire his courage. Himself he would probably have just locked the door from the inside and escaped out the window into the gradually lifting fog.
Shrugging himself out of his reverie Theodore looked up to find himself almost face to face with Holmes. Or, he would have been, if not for the height difference.
The detective was staring at Theodore, waiting for him to take a hint about something…Although Theodore was at a loss as to what that might be.
“Mr. Trent?”
“Yes sir?”
“Would you mind stepping out for a moment while I freshen up?”
“Oh!” blushing profusely, Theodore stepped back out into the living room, closing the door tightly behind him.
2103 Holmes greeted him in much the same tone as his other self had a moment ago. ‘Jeez this is getting confusing’ Theodore grumbled to himself.
“Ah…Mr. Tre-Theodore, how was it?”
“Fine Mr. Holmes, He’s…Uh ‘you’re’ coming out in a minute.”
“Good work” Holmes beamed at him.
“Well, I didn’t really do anything sir, you kinda just went for it.”
Familiar clanking sounds were coming from the direction of the kitchen.
“I forgot Watson was up”
Holmes raised an eyebrow “you were not aware of it.”
“Actually I was; you…the other you, pointed it out to me.”
“Ah.”
The door behind them creaked open, and 1800 Holmes stepped out into the living room. He was very clean; wearing a complete set of fresh Victorian clothing, no doubt borrowed from his future self’s closet. All traces of the street beggar scrubbed away into non-existence.
“Good morning” he said to himself, a bit awkwardly.
“Good morning” his counterpart intoned back, nodding his head in agreement, as if the goodness of this particular morning was worthy of scientific notoriety.
“It would seem that we have a great deal to discuss.”
“Indeed.”
Theodore had a sudden yearning to flee, and, as the best way to do so without comment seemed to be to head to the kitchen, he excused himself on the pretext of saying ‘good morning’ to Watson and slipped around the corner into the brightly lit culinary workshop.
“Hello Mr. Trent!” Watson greeted him cheerfully.
“Hi” he felt better almost immediately, it would seem that Watson, human or machine, had that affect on almost everyone. “You can call me Theodore if you want to.”
“I should be delighted!”
“What are you making?”
The kitchen, white and gleaming, an organized mass of freshly scrubbed wood and metal, was filled with the most wonderful smell, it was something familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it, it reminded him of home, of Saturday mornings, of his mother bending over the stove…he discontinued that train of thought.
“Fresh waffles with maple syrup, Holmes seemed to think you would enjoy them.”
He wasn’t even going to bother asking how 2103 Holmes had known that. It was kind of a scary thought, as the only things that Theodore now retained from home - besides his underwear - were his shoes…
“Uh ya…they’re my favorite…it’s really nice of you guys to bother, you don’t have to you know.” He added guiltily.
“Oh, it is a pleasure, besides, the irregulars are to be here at nine O’clock and they have a liking for them as well.” Watson said this as if it had a great deal of significance to the food he was preparing.
“Is that lady…Lestrade, coming too?”
“I should imagine so, after all, she is far too curious about you and Holmes to pass up the chance” He chuckled.
“She doesn’t seem to like me very much.”
“Oh you mustn’t fret about that, she behaves in a similar fashion toward everyone, you must try to get to know her a little better.”
“She sure likes Holmes,” Theodore hinted.
“Well ye- what would make you say that?”
“Oh, I dunno… she listens to everything he says, even if she pretends not to and then does the exact opposite.”
“Well, she does dislike it when people take note; I hardly think she does herself. You are right though, I myself have noticed it, however she will usually follow her own instincts. At any rate, she has plenty of time to learn…”
“You don’t sound too optimistic.”
“She does have a tendency to be reckless.” Watson admitted while pouring a huge amount of batter onto a waffle iron and flipping the finished product onto a plate, which he then slipped into a metal oven-thing to keep warm.
“Oh” Theodore winced; he must sound so intelligent right now.
“But she is at heart, a kind woman with a great spirit, she has stood up for Holmes more then once, even when her employment has been at risk because of it.”
Theodore’s opinion of the inspector immediately improved.
“Really?”
“Oh yes, and she has done as much for me as well, she is very courageous.”
“I like her better already.” Theodore assured him.
“I am glad to hear it” Watson smiled.
The compudroid - for that is what 2103 Holmes had agreed Watson was - flipped more waffles off the grill, replacing them with batter.
Either the irregulars had superhuman appetites or the entire New Scotland Yard constabulary were coming to breakfast, otherwise they were all going to be literally ankle deep in leftover waffles.
Theodore’s expression must have betrayed his thoughts because Watson, after doing a bit more flipping, said:
“The irregulars can eat more then anyone I have ever known, they will invariably save me the trouble of putting away any leftovers.”
“Uh…okay” he thought for a moment “I bet it’s just your cooking, it sure smells wonderful.”
Watson smiled modestly. “Why, thank you very much Theodore.”
“I met the other you, you know,” he continued
“Oh yes?”
“Yah, how come he didn’t cook?”
“To tell the truth I really don’t know…perhaps I disliked-”
But what Watson may have disliked Theodore would never know, because at that precise moment 2103 Holmes called loudly from the next room.
“Theodore, there is something here it is imperative that you should see!”
And with that, Theodore streaked out of the kitchen.
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