Compound a Felony - Domestic Baker Street
When I start out writing a Sherlock Holmes fic (or a pastiche, as they're called if you use a certain style and hope people pay for the privilege), I operate on a sliding scale of “how married are they?” and often include a little “how drunk are they?” I like to visit Baker Street between cases, explore the domestic side of things, listen to a conversation over a late-night pipe or a mid-morning breakfast. I can write a case a lá Conan Doyle when pressed, but I much prefer to leave the mysteries alone and focus on the mundane. Often my stories come from a place of “what if.” What if Watson was first employed upon his return to London as a model for a smut photographer? What if Holmes was involved in a train wreck and needed his travel anxiety relieved through orgasms? What if they went to dinner and drank too much wine and wanted to kiss a lot in the hansom cab? Sometimes I think along shallow lines, I admit.
The domesticity of Holmes and Watson is an interesting subject, though, because it's not always guaranteed even though the sitting room at 221B Baker Street is a key element of every Holmes story, every Holmes adaptation, every Holmes pastiche. They must begin and end their adventures in that sitting room, but Watson insists on being married to a woman for at least a third of the cases Conan Doyle published. Granted, he finds reasons to drop by Baker Street unannounced, but he doesn't always live there.
Watson's “experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents” can easily be explained by activating the “comfortably bisexual John Watson” characterization, but his marriage is a little harder to work with as a hardcore till-death-do-you-part Holmes/Watson shipper. Sometimes I bring Mary Morstan, Watson's only named wife, into the fold and give our heroes a third romantic partner. Sometimes I wait until she vanishes mysteriously after Holmes's return from the dead, her disappearance described only as a “sad bereavement.” Sometimes, as is in the case with Compound a Felony, I turn her into a complete fabrication.
I do sometimes feel guilty about erasing a female character from exsitance, but I needed the domestic sactuary intact for the power exchange in Compound a Felony to sustain itself. Holmes and Watson had to be safe behind their locked door from the beginning, and the addition of a wife didn't make sense. Watson needed to invent her, ostensibly to protect their reputations, while remaining at Baker Street to take care of his detective. In this universe, Mary Morstan is a screen for the queer domesticity that is already present in the Holmes stories; I've just taken that domesticity in a different direction.
Consulting detective Sherlock Holmes is a veritable whirlwind of intellect and perception, tearing through the fog of intrigue and criminal activity with tremendous force. But behind the locked sitting room door at 221B Baker Street, his biographer and intimate companion, ex-army doctor John Watson, holds the reins.
Elinor Gray is re-imagining the best-loved, essential classics of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle through an erotic lens of domination and submission. As longtime fans have often identified, Holmes and Watson share an undeniable chemistry. Compound a Felony: A Queer Affair of Sherlock Holmes sheds light on their potential relationship, from wild passion to absolute control.
Devoted fans of the Sherlock Holmes canon and newcomers alike will find unbound levels of secrecy, suspense, pain, and reward.