Visit in 1884

Well here's a throwback. After looking at "The Speckled Band" again, I did some more writing about Helen Stoner. This is another partial chapter from DIM, my unfinished Sherlock Holmes romance novel. I would say this is from Chapter 21, when Holmes has decided to visit Helen Stoner in New York.

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Fandom: Sherlock Holmes

Story: Deeper in Memory, partial Chapter 21

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/Helen Stoner 

Warnings: G, unresolved sexual tension

Holmes makes plans to visit New York for a month. He is growing annoyed with Watson nagging him about his health. Wants to drop in on the Pinkertons and Wilson Hargreave and Helen Stoner. Make sure she is getting over Julia's murder and is going to get married after all. Surely she should go back to England to see her fiance Percy?

It will be too expensive to stay at a hotel for a month, so he plans to take a spare room with Hargreave. However, while Holmes is still on the ship going to New York, there is some domestic mishap, such as a sick child or an accident. Hargreave can no longer let Holmes stay with him.

Helen meets Holmes at the dock to tell him and offer to put him up at a hotel for the time being until other arrangements can be made.

Holmes declines, saying he'll see if he can stay with one of the Pinkertons.

"And ruin their cover? Nonsense." As they ride in a carriage with his luggage, she tells him of the first hotel she stayed at, respectable and comfortable, but very restrictive about male guests.

"Of course, I suppose you wouldn't have a problem."

Holmes nods, not quite listening. He finds himself distracted in her presence, analysing her appearance, her voice, her scent. All the details of her person that had faded in his memory since Stoke Moran, since the last time he saw her in Harrow. Was it a mistake to see her again?

She's imagining him catching up with the Pinkertons, swapping war stories and talking over their detective exploits. "What I wouldn't give to be there and hear it. Though I suppose I won't be allowed to." Sighing. "Not unless you all agree to meet at my house." She gets an idea. "Oh, won't you come to dinner? It would be lovely."

Holmes hesitates, lost in her excited smile.

She leans forward, taking his hand in hers. "Oh, won't you please! I've so much to tell you!"

He's awkward about her touching him, has a sudden flash to back at Stoke Moran, when she had implored him to please share his theory of the case. "I-I look forward to it. Shall we stop at the Pinkertons' office to ask them?"

"Oh, are you still allowed in?" she teases him about being a former agent, who thought he was too good for them.

He blushes and feels breathless around her. "We don't have to go in. Only pass a message at the door."

She laughs happily, "Actually, I already told them to meet us at the hotel when we check in. I mean, check you in."

He still protests that he doesn't want her to pay. He'll take care of his own arrangements.

She senses masculine pride and gives in. "All right, but do convince them all to come over to my house for dinner this evening."

"Will you be able to make arrangements on such short notice?"

"I could send for a delivery from a restaurant."

Soon they arrive at the hotel, and many Pinkertons are waiting in the lobby to greet him. "Hargreave sends his regrets."

Some offer to let Holmes bunk with them, then joke about him "knocking them up" in the morning; still teasing him about the slang term he did not know in the 1870s.

He blushes and glances warily at Helen, hoping she does not ask him to explain.

She already knows the story from the Pinkertons but chooses not to embarrass him further. Instead she catches his eye and smiles, lightly touching his arm to reassure him. It makes him nervous again, very aware of her presence. She changes the subject, asks them all to dinner at her house.

Holmes meanwhile goes to check in, and says he needs to go upstairs to freshen up.

"Of course. See you soon." She discusses with the Pinkertons, and they agree to bring Holmes this evening. She hurries home to let her housekeeper know and to order dinner for everyone. They'll all want cigars and beer too.

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That night at dinner, Holmes at first tries to steel himself and not be distracted by her. To pay more attention to the other Pinkertons.

But she's there, so close. Lively and bright, like he wanted her to be, not some "poor little nun" like Mycroft suggested she would become. She needed to be out in the world. He needed that for her. He keeps watching her face and movements, trying to analyze if she might like any of these Pinkertons like she had liked Sergeant Tibbs. If she wanted to stay here permanently, and what she would do about Percy.

She starts to notice him staring at her, and they exchange silent glances. The Pinkertons tease them about it, diffusing the situation a little. But they eat and talk for hours. She and her housekeeper clear the dishes as the men go into the study to smoke. The women start to wash the dishes, though Helen strains to hear if they're discussing something interesting.

Holmes unexpectedly slips away, trying to take a moment to study the house, to deduce things about her life here in New York. What has changed since Stoke Moran?

She comes out of the kitchen, hurrying back to rejoin the men. Runs into him in the hall. "Hello."

"Hello." Nervous. "I was just--"

"Are you feeling tired? Weary still from your journey?"

"No, no. I-I was just admiring your house. Are these your furnishings, or hired?"

"Oh, a little of both. I bought some pieces to make this feel a little more comfortable." Points out a painting, and tells him about it.

"And you are happy?" he asks quietly.

She faces him. "Yes, I am." She describes the house, the neighbourhood, the concerts she goes to see, and which she'd like to take him to.

"It's good that you are enjoying New York."

"I am, though Percy would rather that I go back to England."

"And will you?" he tries to sound casual but he is looking at her seriously. Needs to know what she is going to do.

She shrugs. "I don't know. I'm just looking forward to this month, having you here. It's a shame that Dr. Watson didn't come with you."

He is getting jealous again.

She continues obliviously, "I mean wouldn't he want to meet all your American friends too, even if he already knows all the stories?"

"Perhaps." He doesn't mention that he hasn't told Watson any stories of his time in America yet. "He's very busy though." Nagging me constantly about morphine.

"Too bad. I hope he comes another time."

She seemed in no hurry to go back to her fiance and marry. What should he do?

Some Pinkertons interrupt them, asking what they are whispering about.

She explains, "I'm just showing him my house."

Still teasing. "Oh, really, and you'll show him upstairs too?"

She laughs and smiles at Holmes, and it's just too much for him. He retreats back to the room to smoke.

Later the Pinkertons start to leave and Holmes is preparing to return to his hotel. He says good night and kisses her hand. Trying to be polite and not to linger.

"I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yes. We'll go to that concert."

"Yes. I can't wait."

They spend time together over the next few days, without the Pinkertons. Discussing how different New York is from London, America from England.

Meanwhile, Holmes tries to find a cheaper boarding house instead of a hotel. Then she gets another idea, invites him to stay in her spare bedroom. It would be quite convenient and wonderful.

He protests the impropriety of staying with her, a single woman.

She protests that she left the hotel because of damned propriety, and they were breaking it by constantly going about unchaperoned.

"Still." he wonders if he should protest, what Percy would think. He's not sure if she's ever going back to him.

She insists that it's only matter of being room-mates, like he is with Watson. Or of sleeping one bedroom away from each other. Whispers mischievously about the night in Stoke Moran, when he told her to sleep in her old room, while he and Watson slipped into Julia's next door. "Why, after we fled to the Crown Inn the next morning, Mrs. Beale and I 'commandeered' your beds. You didn't stand on ceremony then."

Holmes blushes to remember that night, and how in a way they had slept in the same bed, though at different times. Also Watson had slept there too.

"Please." She reaches out for his hand again.

He meets her eyes and nods. Needs to observe her closely to figure out her intentions. Perhaps push her to a specific person.

She grins and kisses his cheek. She excitedly tells him to go pack his bags and check out of the hotel. She will prepare his bedroom.

Almost a week of domesticity. Flirtation. Before suddenly Irene arrives and it's all upended.