Sherlock's Kiss [Fuhua Vampire Colleague]

The day went on like this.

6 months later.

John Watson was copying his account books in the office of his clinic. He slowly began to adapt to his medical career. The lost memory did not affect his handiwork. The final scar is like a neat line. No patient has ever complained, and his operations are perfect, as if he has never made a mistake. John Watson paused during the transcription. Why did he suddenly burst into tears? The feeling that I have had surgery failed.

He has an inexplicable sense of frustration and guilt haunting his mind. The medical records of his clinic record every operation he has performed since he practiced, and he has read every one of them. During the process of medication and surgery, his patients are now living in the world in good health, indeed without a single mistake, but there is always a heavy stone in his heart, which he cannot push or move.

Did he really never make a single mistake?

John Watson is full of worries every day. Day after day, the weird and disturbing dream haunts him after he falls asleep. When he wakes up, the strong loss and depression always overwhelm him. John Watson I feel so tired.

He was very unhappy.

Another 6 months passed, and he turned 23, which happened to be a whole year of his amnesia.

On a blustery morning, John Watson heard thunder in his bed. He turned his head and looked out the window. The gloomy clouds were pressing down on the distant horizon. A storm was coming. He might close his business today.

So he went downstairs in his home clothes, and his father was at the desk reading the newspaper, and his grandmother was sitting in front of the fire, talking about the frightening news in the newspaper. John Watson frowned when he heard this, "What kind of beast?" As he spoke, he sat down on the sofa and put his crutches on the side of the armrest.

"It's probably a wild wolf. I think it's a wild wolf." My father shook the newspaper and said casually, "It's not safe to live in the wilderness."

"Wild wolves can't suck up human blood!" Grandma screamed, "It's a zombie! A zombie crawling out of the grave!"

Strange and weird stories were going back and forth between father and grandmother, and the more they talked, the more mysterious they became. My father had already talked about the topic of werewolves. On the night of the full moon, werewolves would transform into huge beasts and jump into rural farmhouses to bite humans.

At this point, my mother brought a plate of toast from the dining room, and everyone shared it. John Watson took a bite of the toast, and then he drank a glass of red wine and sighed because he was bored and upset .

Suddenly someone knocked on the door, and his father answered the door. After a while, he came back to the house. He urged John Watson, saying, "My son, one of your patients is ill, and I am in a hurry to call you." Help him see a doctor at home."

"Which patient?" John Watson turned around from the sofa.

"They didn't say anything, but there is a carriage waiting at the door of the house. You can carry the medicine box and go directly. Hurry up, I think he is a rich man. Maybe he can let you attend a luxurious dinner party."

"I don't go to a doctor for a dinner party."

"Only when you have a dinner party can you become famous. Once you are famous, you can marry the daughter of a rich man, buy a mansion, and have a son."

John Watson was very dissatisfied with his rhetoric. He didn't care about it. He snorted, looked at the pouring rain outside the window, and it fell on the windowpane with the thunder and thunder of the storm. It was as fierce as a bullet. He quickly changed into the clothes he was going out, and he packed them in less than 10 minutes. He carried the medicine box, and the coachman outside the door opened a huge black umbrella for him on the steps. His coat didn't drop a single drop. Rain, John Watson found out when he got into the carriage that someone was already waiting for him inside.

John Watson looked at him and smiled.

The other party was tall and burly, with his hair brushed back, looking very luxurious, his face was unhealthy pale, like an anemic patient, he was wearing an elegant black suede suit, and his dark eyes were piercing.

He handed over his hand and placed it in front of John Watson, "Dr. Watson, long time no see."

John Watson held his hand, and his back couldn't help shivering, what a cold hand!Like ice cubes!John Watson sighed in his heart, if it weren't for the strength of his palm, John Watson would even suspect that the patient he was going to rescue was this man with no blood and hypothermia.

"Wait a minute," John Watson reacted, "What did you just say? Long time no see? You've known me for a long time?"

The other party narrowed his eyes, and he said, "I know what you have been through, Dr. Watson, you have lost your memory, so you can't remember anything, I do know you, a year ago, before you lost your memory .”

"Sorry, I see a lot of old friends now, I can't remember their names."

"I don't mind introducing myself to you again, anyway, I haven't introduced myself to you so formally before, Greg Lestrade, please call me Lestrade, I used to be from Scotland," he said After a pause, "I came to London to work hard when I was a teenager, so I should be considered half Londoner."

"Hello, so where am I going now?"

"Go and meet my master."

"You mean your boss?"

Lestrade smiled slightly, "You can understand it this way, my boss, my leader or my boss, whatever you want to say, but in fact, he is my master and I am his servant."

"Oh..." John Watson muttered, even a servant in a rich family is dressed like this, like a nobleman, the person he is going to meet must be extremely expensive, maybe it is the richest person in London people.

John Watson glanced out of the car window, the carriage rattled forward, the blurred rain, fog and wind made him unable to see the street clearly, he didn't know where he was passing, the sky was dim, and sitting in the carriage An old friend he just met.

"Are we friends?" John Watson asked him.

"No, it can only be regarded as an old acquaintance. I have little relationship with you. It can be said that I have nothing to do with you, but I have a good impression of you. You are a good person, a good person with a kind heart."

John Watson didn't know where he was. He blinked and looked out of the car window again, "Can't you tell me exactly where to go?"

"I'm afraid not. My master's residence is very secret. He doesn't like too many people to know his residence. It's troublesome for us to be busy."

"Who is he?"

"Mycroft..." Lestrade continued after a sudden pause, "Mycroft Holmes, it is he you want to see."

This surname was like fireworks, suddenly blooming in John Watson's mind. He was speechless for a long time. There was something in this surname that he couldn't let go of. It was very important to him, and he knew it must be very important, even beyond It killed him, but it was covered with a layer of dust, so that he couldn't remember what it was.

Lestrade said with a smile, "Although you have Holmes' surname in your mind, it seems that you still haven't remembered anything."

"Can you... tell me who Sherlock Holmes is?"

Lestrade withdrew his smile, tightened the corners of his mouth seriously, and stared straight at John Watson with his eyes, which made John Watson's heart tremble. He felt that this sight was invading his heart, John Watson He lowered his face in dissatisfaction, and stared at him, "Damn it, none of you mentioned this name, neither do my family members, nor do you, it's like this name is the name of a demon, what did he do, what did he know about me Don't know me?"

Lestrade didn't say anything, he just looked at John Watson resolutely and silently. After a long time, when the carriage stopped, he said slowly, "Sherlock Holmes, he was a great man in his lifetime. A hero."

John Watson didn't know why, as if he had fallen into an abyss, and his heart was very painful. He suddenly frowned, closed his eyes, and his brain throbbed a second ago.

"He passed away?" Although John Watson hadn't remembered who Sherlock Holmes really was, he felt that the important thing he had lost was this person. There was no doubt that it must be this person. This person was very important to him. John Watson occupies a very important position in my heart, but who is he?what does he look likeWhat did John Watson owe him, or did he owe John Watson, why did he feel bad every time he thought of the name?

Lestrade asked him caringly, "Every time you are about to think of him, does that happen?"

"How did he die?"

"I think he was burned, burned to ashes, and then the wind carried him away."

"How long ago?"

"Five days after your crash, he also had an accident."

"He and I...were together? On the train?"

Lestrade sighed, "You can't remember, don't force it, I think you are in great pain, it's better to forget him, it's right to forget him, you have to continue living, you have to move forward, forget him John Watson."

The door opened, and the coachman waited outside with an umbrella. Lestrade got out of the car first, and John Watson came down with the medicine box. Under the umbrella, he saw a large isolated house with a red roof in front of him. Black chimneys, every window is covered with a layer of black velvet curtains, the curtains are as black as rotten teeth, and countless dense forests stand nearby, covering this mysterious house extremely secretively. Walking in, I couldn't see it at all. John Watson was brought into the house. He stood in the dark room with a cane, feeling very cold.

Lestrade smiled, "There is a fireplace in this house, but we never use it, so there is no firewood. I can give you a blanket to wrap around for a while, and I will pour you a glass of wine to warm your body." Lestrade Trade walked into the house while talking to himself, "The weather is fine today, it won't be very bright, it's like it's getting dark." He walked fast and without sound, as if floating To the end of the house.

John Watson listened wonderingly. He walked to the window, opened a curtain, and looked out at the cruel and annoying storm. The rain hit the window glass, and everything was blurred. I hope there is a fire in the house for him to roast. John Watson found that the candlesticks here were covered with dust, but there were burning candles on them, and there were matches next to them. He polished the matches and lit the candles. Such a little light dispelled the gloomy and coldness in the house.

"Doctor Watson..." The ghostly voice echoed in the back of his head.

John Watson was taken aback by the sudden greeting. He turned around cautiously holding the dusty candlestick. He didn't know how this man got behind him, and there was no movement at all.

He looked at John Watson and showed a faint smile, "It's been a year since I saw you. I've heard people talk about your misfortune. It's very sad. I can't remember anything for such a long time."

"You don't need to care about..." John Watson muttered angrily. He didn't like to be sympathized with. He didn't like it very much.

John Watson noticed that his clothes were very luxurious and elegant, the tailoring of the suit jacket clearly indicated that he was probably a nobleman, his expression had crushing strength, his expression was cold, very arrogant, and his eyes were sullen like vultures .

Lestrade stood behind him, staring at John Watson, he said, "This is my master."

Mycroft didn't say anything, and glanced at Lestrade with a smile. He turned his head gracefully, waved John Watson to sit down, and then sat on the sofa next to him. Lestrade A few glasses of wine were brought from the side and placed on the coffee table, "Please feel free, Dr. Watson, please take this glass of malt wine."

John Watson looked at the thick red-black liquid in the other two goblets, which had a pungent fishy smell and aroma, which made him feel very uncomfortable. John Watson picked up another glass of golden-yellow transparent liquid and sipped it. Take a sip of sweet malt wine.

Lestrade sat on the arm of Mycroft's sofa with his arms crossed, and John Watson almost choked on the wine. He suddenly felt that the relationship between the two of them was not as simple as master and servant.

"Should I check you up?" John Watson was in a much better mood after being warmed by the alcohol. He patted the medicine box on his lap and looked at Mycroft, "Sir?"

Mycroft's face was as gloomy as the weather outside. He nodded and said, "Please."

"You used to be my patient?" John Watson took out the stethoscope from the box and hung it on his ear. He got out of the sofa and squatted in front of Mycroft, "Forgive me for not remembering you, you Have you ever been to my clinic before? Please tell me about your condition in detail, and let me go back and find your medical records."

He smiled slyly, and John Watson felt a chill in his eyes, "I was not your patient before, doctor, you already know who I am, and about Sherlock Holmes, you have this name in your heart , but you can’t remember the relationship between this name and you, can you really not remember any details? You have a close relationship with him, and he has a lot of things that he doesn’t tell me, but he always talks to you, doctor... I think Let me ask you, have you ever heard the story about the city of darkness from him?"

John Watson had just put the stethoscope on his chest through the shirt, and he took it off when he heard this, "What dark city?"

"Has he ever told you where the entrance is? Or has he hinted at you how to enter this country? Even if there is only one or two sentences, just a few words, can you remember?"

"What entrance? What country?"

Mycroft sighed, "He's dead, but he's left me with a bunch of puzzles, and I'll never get the answers from him myself, if only I could find that notebook It's gone." He looked at John Watson, a layer of ice formed in his eyes, "I can only rely on you now, doctor, I will wait for you until you completely recover your memory."

John Watson was stunned in front of him, "Damn... I don't understand at all..." He recalled blankly, the Dark City, the Dark City, he had no impression, "Sherlock... and I What's the matter?" The doctor lowered his voice, his melancholy tone made his voice hoarse, "Who is he to me?"

Mycroft looked at him for a long time, "You are his only friend."

"I'm his...only friend."

Mycroft didn't say anything more, the air seemed to be frozen. In order to break the embarrassment of the silence, John Watson pressed the end of his stethoscope on Mycroft's chest, and John Watson frowned. Frowning, he suspected that there was something wrong with the stethoscope, because Mycroft's heartbeat was very slow, unbelievably slow, it only beat thirteen beats in a minute, John Watson coughed dryly, and he shook Stethoscope, checking his instruments, "This...maybe broken. Sorry..." He said, pinching Mycroft's pulse with his fingers, and John Watson's heart sank.

He licked his dry lips, "Uh... your heartbeat..."

"What's wrong with my heartbeat?" Mycroft looked at him with a playful smile.

"Some, a little slow." John Watson realized that he was in danger, and the stethoscope fell to the carpet. John Watson sprang up, limped back two steps, and stared at McCulloh Te, "You're not normal...you're human...not human."

"Where did you see it?" Mycroft narrowed his eyes, with a mocking attitude, "Just because my heartbeat is slow, you think I'm not human?"

"This phenomenon is too strange, the heartbeat is so slow, and the blood circulation is simply not enough to maintain normal breathing..."

"That's why I need you, doctor, I have a strange disease, besides, I don't look like a human anymore." Mycroft leaned on the back of the sofa, "Look at you, take me for a Bad guy. Even though you have read and learned a bit, you are still ignorant of many strange diseases in this world. My heartbeat is very slow, so I need a good doctor to save me, you Would you like to help me? It would be great if you could visit me once a week and diagnose my illness."

The doctor only felt that his lips were dry, and he clenched his fists nervously, "This is indeed an extremely strange condition."

"How much consultation fee do you need before you are willing to admit me as a patient?"

"The matter of the consultation fee can be put aside. Regarding your condition, I have to go back and ask my father and my colleagues."

"You can't do it yourself?" Mycroft asked calmly, "I heard that in London, your reputation is one of the best. You are a promising doctor. If you encounter a little illness, you will get Where can I go for help? If I wanted your father or your colleagues in the first place, I would go to them directly, but I want you, I want you to rule me, no one else, and this matter must be kept quiet because I don't want to My privacy is exposed, you know that rumors can destroy a person, I don't want my secluded life to be disturbed in any way, is that okay? You and I know about my physical condition, can I trust you?"

John Watson and him stared at each other across the coffee table.

John Watson stared into those eyes that shone with a strange light, and Mycroft had a smile on his lips, and there seemed to be a faint flame in his eyes.

John Watson said only two words: "Okay." Then he held out his hand.

Mycroft grinned cheerfully, with two inconspicuous tusks at each end of his straight teeth, and his large, strong, pale hands seized John Watson's and held them tightly.

"Very good!" he said loudly, exerting all his strength roughly, clamping John Watson's hand with astonishing force, tightening constantly, John Watson swallowed hard, holding back the pain. He cried out in pain.

Mycroft let go of his hand, "Come on, let's sit down and talk again, Greg, help the doctor prepare a room, the storm is so strong outside, I'm afraid he won't be able to go back tonight."

The author has something to say:

The next post has a slight Mai Rae plot

It's really hard to say when will we meet Xiao Xia again

Some people say that Xiao Xia fell to the bottom of the cliff and started to look like a martial arts drama ha ha (so Xiao Hua is Yang Guo? Xiao Xia is a dragon girl raising bees at the bottom of the cliff?)

There are also children's shoes, I am so worried that the ending will be abused, don't worry, this article will not be BE

In the article next door, Xin Fuhua's fighters will be abused Cry