Sherlock Holmes [Reader Insert]

Chapter 3

You took a deep breath before crossing the hall again. You walked in to find Mr. Holmes had been pacing. He stopped and looked up as you entered. His eyes looked you over and then he pursed his lips. "It will have to do."

"I think it's strong enough to fool whoever we run into," you told him. "They won't have seen me before. Do you have a belt?" You pulled up the pants at your hips as they started to gape.

Mr. Holmes raised an eyebrow and turned to walk away. He went into the door at the end of the room and emerged with a brown leather belt, which you fastened around your waist.

"I trust you have boots?" Mr. Holmes asked as he looked down at your stocking-ed feet. "Maybe the ones you wore yesterday?"

You hadn't thought your shoes were visible beneath your skirts, but you had worn your trusty boots to make the journey to London. You nodded.

"Alright," Mr. Holmes agreed with himself. "Very good. That'll be all. I'll see you tomorrow morning at sunrise."

"It isn't even lunch, yet," you said.

He looked at you in surprise.

"I mean, Isn't there something productive we could be doing?" you asked, hoping to help the case along if you could.

"I'm going to continue my research," Holmes told you. "You are free to do what you wish, though I advise against leaving the building."

You didn't know where you would go, anyway. You glanced back at the machine by the door. "You're going to work on that cannon?"

"Yes."

"Would you like some help? I'm fairly good with machinery- small hands," you held up your dominant hand and wiggled your fingers. You were always able to reach the closed-in places your father couldn't.

"No, thank you. I'm capable on my own."

You turned to the machine. "Then you're aware that the gears you've shoved into the hand-crank system are tearing at each other when you pull back the spring? And that it's keeping the projectile from reaching its full velocity, what with the friction of the teeth against each other..." You looked back at Mr. Holmes with a small smirk.

"Very aware." He frowned at you.

Your lips formed a full smile. "Ah, you're just impatient then. You know, I bet if you corrected the issue you could throw a bocce ball into the fireplace from here. Maybe even bounce it off the stonework on the mantle."

"Yes, that was my thinking as well." Mr. Holmes sighed, clearly annoyed.

Feeling proud at your victory over Mr. Holmes' attitude, you stepped toward the machine and reached inside. Your fingers found the bolts that held on the gears and started turning. They weren't even fastened all the way on.

"Wait! What do you think you're doing!?" Holmes rushed at you and grabbed for your arm. When he pulled it out of the machine, you held a gear in your hand.

"You didn't even have the patience to fasten the bolts all the way?" you asked cheekily. You turned from his frustrated face to the gear in your hand. Sure enough, the teeth were being ground away by the gear it had been connected to. "Some things, Mr. Holmes, are worth taking the time to make right." You reached in and freed the other gear. "If you keep using this as it is you'll need to go out and find yourself a new pair of gears."

Mr. Holmes huffed and took a step back, though he was still within an arm's reach. "And I should let you work on my machine because...?"

"I know about a lot more than just hay and horse dung, Mr. Holmes," you told him, remembering what he had said to you at your meeting. "What else do I have to occupy my time, anyway? Maybe if I help you perfect this machine you can focus more wholly on my case."