"I have my fill of sensible friends," Watson returned, his eyes crinkled with laughter. "I need some madness in my life. You are the perfect candidate." They were nearing home now, and being able to shut a door between them and the rest of the world was sounding like a very good idea; all he could think was how truly splendid Holmes was.

"Out of curiosity," he grinned, "how am I coming along with cultivating--"

Abruptly, he broke off into a low, sharp exhalation, a hiss of pain, in the same moment there was a distant crack, a sound of gunfire. Even before he had registered what was going on he knew instinctually what had happened; it had happened before, after all. Watson clapped his hand over his left arm, feeling the wet heat of his own blood. His knees buckled under him, not for any good reason except the shock.