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221b Baker Street was never a calm place. Such a building of science and detective work is bound to be on the more busy side. Today it was busier than average however, as a frantic blonde man was throwing open every drawer, cupboard and floorboard he could in a panicked haze.
“I hate to ask you Sholmes, but what are you doing?” A bemused man with a green bowler hat and a grey brooked moustache asked as he peeled his head around the door, a portion of fish and chips in hand
“A cure.” The blonde man announced as he lowered his goggles onto his face, their machinery whirring to life
“…I’m sorry?” The older man asked, a face full of potato as he did
“A cure Gregson. I’m looking for something, anything I could make a cure with. Iris is sick with I don’t know what and-“
“Sick?! Lady Iris?! With what?!Where?!” Detective Gregson panicked, almost dropping the paper cone in his hand.
“Upstairs, and I don’t know what.” Sholmes said, pointing vaguely towards a set of stairs. “She’s running a fever, is in and out of consciousness and won’t stop throwing up!” Sholmes popped up from within the floorboards, hands raised in frustration. Gregson was making his way up the stairs when he turned around and paused. Sholmes had thrown his hat to the side, bouncing it across the floor as he doubled over onto his knees, gripping his hair in anger as he began to let out choked sobs.
“Sholmes?” Gregson asked cautiously as he crept his way over to the consulting detective crying in his dug-up floorboards
“… I can’t do this. S-she’s my baby and I don’t even know what’s wrong with her.” He sobbed, feebly trying to wipe away his tears as he avoided looking up at Gregson. Gregson placed his cone of chips to the side, shaking some of the grease laying residual on his fingers off as he perched down next to Sholmes, taking off his hat as he focused on Sholmes’ tear-soaked face.
“You will never hear me repeat this ever, but Sholmes… you’re doing well with Iris. You just had a kid dropped at your door and now she has more talent than most Londoners have in their left pinkie!” Gregson paused, as Sholmes continued to stare at the gaps in the floor.
“She’s ten, she’s healthy. She’ll be ok. So quit your blubbering and just look after her!” Gregson started to yell towards the end as Sholmes continued to stare at the floor, dissociated, before leaping up and sprinting towards the fireplace, shoving his body up the chimney.
“Hey- hey! Don’t try to hide in the walls!” Gregson yelped as he ran to drag Sholmes by the legs out of his chimney. He gripped the man’s ankles tightly and began to lean backwards, waddling as we went until Sholmes must have lost his grip and landed on the floor with a large bang, his previously white shirt now almost recognisable as a thick layer of soot coated him. In his hand, a small, half full vial with bright blue contents which were almost glowing. Sholmes raised the clenched fist with it in triumphantly, panting heavily as he did, every pant scattering more and more soot across the dug-up floorboards of the home.
“I know I’m going to regret asking this Sholmes but… what’s in the bottle?” Gregson asked, trying to wipe the fine black powder that had found its way onto his hands off.
“The cure, Gregson. Iris, she had these exact symptoms when she was a baby, and Professor Mikotaba had left this with me and instructions on how to make more. I lost the instructions so I decided to hide what little I had left somewhere I would not be tempted to drink it myself.”
“Of course you did.” Gregson sighed
“So I hid it somewhere I would never go to regularly, my chimney!” Sholmes celebrated, trying to dust himself off to no avail as he began to confidently strode towards the stairs, gripping the banister as he bent over at the bottom of them.
“She’s going to be alright.” Sholmes whispered to himself, grinning at the vial in his hand before rushing up the stairs hurriedly, a hapless Gregson following behind him. Hands shaking violently, he cracked open the door to his left, a cozy and dark room with a large bed in the middle. Beneath the bedsheets, you could make out the small silhouette of a little girl, curled up into a small ball. Her bouncy pink hair was sprawled all around her as she lay with a damp cloth above her head. The small crack of light escaping into the room revealed her flushed cheeks and blotchy eyes from where she had been sobbing. Sholmes approached silently (a rarity for the man) and gave the small girl a gentle nudge, making her come to her senses
“Mmm, Hurley?” She mumbled into her pillow, struggling to open her heavy eyelids
“It’s me, Iris, and Inspector Gregson as well. We’ve found something which might get rid of your sickness.”
“Gregsy?” Iris cried out, trying to push herself up into a sitting position as she strained her eyes to look around her.
“I’m here, my ladyship! Don’t trouble yourself, I’ll come to you.” Gregson similarly cried out as he moved swiftly to the small girl’s side, placing her small hand into his and stroking the back of it with his thumb.
“Stick your tongue out, Iris dear. One drop of this and you’ll be as right as rain in the morning.” Sholmes announced, uncorking the vial which immediately filled the room with a nauseating stench. Iris looked with worry for a moment at Sholmes, who gave her a nod of reassurance. Tentatively, Iris stuck her tongue out, eyes shut tightly bracing for the impact. With a shaky hand, Sholmes reached over and slowly tipped a drop onto her tongue. The moment it landed, Iris recoiled physically, gagging on air uncontrollably to try to push the foul taste out. Sholmes swiftly returned the cork to the glass vial, slipping it into his pocket.
“There, now you can return to your slumber and be cured in the morning.” Sholmes announced as he had already began to make his way towards the door
“You did excellently, your ladyship. Better than I would have.” Gregson smiled at the exhausted Iris, who flopped back down into her bed
“Thank you Gregsy. I’ll be extra nice about you next time I write.” Iris yawned, before she began snoring quietly into her pillow. Gregson crept quietly out of the room, shutting the door behind him and adjusting his hat as the two men travelled back downstairs to the mostly destroyed bottom floor.
“Thank you Inspector, for your assistance.” Sholmes said, picking up the now soot-covered fish and chips from off the floor
“I hate to take credit for work I don’t do, Sholmes. I’m afraid I did not assist you with Miss Iris back there at all.” Gregson admitted, lowering his head slightly in shame.
“I believe you did, inspector. Your words reminded me of the location of the ‘cure’ and, had you not been there with Iris as comfort, she most likely would have refused to take it.” Gregson stood for a moment, dumbfounded, only grimacing slightly as he was handed his sooty fish and chips.
“I am aware that Iris and your’s relationship is akin to blackmail at times, but she still holds you in very high regard. I stand by it when I say you are one of the best in Scotland Yard.”
“O-oh, thank you Sholmes.” Gregson stuttered bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck. “I suppose I’ll have to visit tomorrow, to check on Lady Iris’ health of course.”
“You know where we’ll be. Good day, Inspector.”
“Good day, Sholmes.” The inspector said, quietly shutting the door behind him as he went. Sholmes turned to face his defaced living room. The ornate furniture was dirty, the floorboards had nails sticking out of them and almost everything in the room had been touched by Sholmes’ escapade into the chimney. He let out an exhausted sigh, rolled up his sleeves, dusted off and put on his hat and went to fix the mess he had made.