Mrs. Holmes [Book III]

Of Dissertations and Distress

Early February

When Sherlock and John walked in and found Susanna at the desk typing feverishly on her computer and appearing rather tense, they'd guessed it was something from work that had her wound up. Sherlock approached her gently and placed his hands on her shoulders. To their surprise, Susanna brushed him off, "Not now, Sherlock."

Her distressed tone bordered on sulking, pissed even. Sherlock looked at John, who was as taken aback as he was by her atypical reaction, "What happened at work, Love?" Sherlock asked as gently as he could manage. Susanna huffed and tried to shrug his hands from her shoulders again.

"I am being sent to a conference in Germany. The caveat is that I have to proofread and edit Doctor Leslie's dissertation. He's a brilliant mind but a terrible writer. Awful. Which is why he nominated me for the task," Susanna replied quickly, "And he's missing so many things that I'm essentially writing it for her!"

At that she fell forward onto the desk in defeat and utter frustration, hiding her face in her arms. Sherlock removed his hands from her shoulders and instead pressed one to her stress-stiffened back. John cleared his throat, "A Conference in Germany?" She nodded.

"When? For what?" Sherlock inquired, "How long?"

"Later this month. A week. It's Epidemiological but also highlights Forensics, which is why Doctor Maclaine is sending me and Zuke."

"Who is Doctor Leslie?"

"He's Doctor Maclaine's second in command over our division. Doctor Francis Leslie." They remembered hearing of Francis several times. Susanna hadn't said his last name but now they knew who had been the greatest thorn in her side because he required written corrections like crazy. He'd botched her reports many times as well.

"So he is attending the conference and required a proofreader?"

"He always does. But since his normal secretary is out sick, he slammed me with the job since Oh, Susanna, you always do such a perfect job on your reports and normally help with proofreading, why don't you help with my presentation? Ugh. And he needs it in two days."

John stepped into the kitchen to make a kettle of tea after exchanging looks with Sherlock. Both knew that Susanna would stress herself sick unless they could get her to relax because as much as she hated it, she was a perfectionist and would over critique her own work.

Sherlock rubbed Susanna's back in the meantime, "Love?"

"Mmm..."

"Why are you distressing yourself over someone else's paper?"

"I barely have a choice, Sherlock. He asked me in front of almost everyone including Doctor Maclaine," Sherlock let the subject drop until John came back with the tea. He set two cuppas down on the desk for the married couple and sat down in his chair, ready to help if need be. Susanna didn't even look at the tea, let alone move. Sherlock exhaled and then, taking the matter into his own hands, reached over her and made sure to save the document before shutting off the laptop and pushing it away. She shot back up, "Sherlock! Why did you do that?!"

"I am not going to permit you to stress for two days and two nights over that dissertation. From what I observed on the screen, you'll be perfectly fine taking a break. You're very close to finishing and your work is excellent. Now," Sherlock pushed the cuppa towards her, "Relax and drink your tea. You may continue tomorrow."

She wanted to protest but gave in. Sherlock smiled with satisfaction, managing to slip the laptop out of sight. By the time John left and it was time to get to bed, Susanna had calmed down considerably although she was still stiff and rigid. She got into her nightgown and retired to bed first, as normal, but was visibly straining to get comfortable.

Sherlock decided that the best course of action was to relieve her physical stress. So he stealthily got in and then rolled her onto her stomach, "Sherlock?!"

"You carry your stress in your back and shoulders. This could initiate a headache or a migraine, which would further distract you from completing your work," As he spoke he set to work, giving a deep tissue massage. She frequently gave him massages, so he employed what techniques he could remember into returning the favor. She remained tensed up so he chided, "Loosen up. It'll work better that way."

When she finally relaxed her muscles, he was able to dig in deeper. It took a long while before he'd worked the tension out of her body and she fell totally limp against her pillows. Pleased with himself he ended their session and laid down beside her. She smiled at him, "Thank you, Darling."

"You're welcome, Love."

Thank you for reading!!