SHERLOCK I, II, III & IV • #wattys2016

Open Abduction

“All right, thank you, sir. You may go inside.”

“Thank you.” John ducked inside and quickly began searching for Alana. His stomach tumbled and his heart pulsed violently inside his chest. He kept thinking he saw her, but it only took the woman to turn around to inform him he was looking at the wrong one. Shuddering, John walked through the gathering crowd. As he weaved in and out of the guests, making sure not to trip over the more extravagant gowns, he heard her rich voice rise above the others.

Like a curtain, a couple passed by John, revealing behind them the duchess. John’s breath stopped and so did his feet. He stood in the middle of the hall, staring at Alana, who was only several yards from him. She sipped gently on a cold beverage and laughed politely at her guests’ attempts to humor her. During an extensive joke told by a rather dull fellow, Alana looked up and caught John’s eyes.

John spotted a look of delight in her face and, believing for only a moment that perhaps she didn’t receive the message, he stepped forward courageously.  Alana rested a hand on her chest and allowed him to break up the company encircling her.

“Your Grace,” John said gently as he took her hand and kissed it properly.

“Doctor Watson,” Alana played a long. Though it wasn’t expected of her to do such a gesture in public, she leaned in and gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. Before she pulled away, she whispered, “I don’t judge you.”

John’s heart pulled, twisted, and knotted at her words. Not only did she inform him that she had received the message, but she also didn’t turn him away if it was to be true.

“Your Grace, I need to talk to you.”

Alana lifted her chin and blinked away the tears. “There’s nothing to say. It all makes sense now.”

“Please, Alana—Your Grace,” John stumbled. He closed his mouth and tucked his chin in embarrassment.

One of the guests that had been previously talking to the duchess, pointed a finger at John and her mouth dropped. She looked over at Alana with a fond expression and then back at the doctor. In a voice loud enough to wake the dead, she squawked, “So you’re Jawn Watson? Oh! ‘Ow Her Grace told me all aboutcha!”

Pulling his brows together in bewilderment, John asked civilly, “I’m sorry, who are you, miss?”

“One of Her Grace’s oldest friends!” the lady boasted, smacking John’s shoulder with her napkin.

John noticed an empty glass of champagne in her hands. He could tell that that wasn’t her first glass.

Alana stared at her friend and pinched her elbow as hard as she could.

“Ow!” the lady shrieked before falling into a roaring cackle. She turned to John again and declared through drunken slurs, “You are quite fit, aren’t you? You could be somebody’s pocket pet!”

“A pocket what?” John asked, straining to understand where this woman’s conversation was going.

“Ignore her,” Alana said under her breath as she pulled John aside. In an inconspicuous manner, she guided John over to a section of the room that wasn’t as populated. In her professional voice, she stated, “Doctor Watson, I know this isn’t easy for either of us. But, I want you to know that I care deeply for you—,”

“Alana, please!”

“No!” Alana whimpered before hiding her face behind her hands. Her eyes glistened with tears and her shoulders shuddered. After a moment, she removed her hands from her eyes and continued in a lowered voice, “Don’t make it harder on me. It already hurts so much!”