Best Friends, Worst Enemies

Chapter 2

by Erin~.~Annabelle Prachett

I bring forth...part two of "Best Friends, Worst Enemies"... Took me long enough, huh?

"Maybe she’s playing," Annabelle offered.

"Hmph!" Holmes groaned. "The sooner Watson gives away that demon cat, the better."


Holmes turned onto his back, still sleeping. He cracked an eye open, hearing a meow. He stiffened, seeing the kitten almost float above him. The kitten glared down at him with large blue eyes.

Holmes shrieked as he flipped onto his stomach. If he thought the kitten was possessed before, he was sure of it this time! "Of course," he finally sighed. "You knocked over my cap. It landed on my head and you perched on it. All this time I thought you were possessed. Silly me."

"Meow." Gypsy said.

Holmes sneezed.


"Merry Christmas, Holmes!" Beth Lestrade cheerfully said. "It’s Christmas Eve!"

Holmes grunted a reply while trying to shoo Gypsy away. She’d simply blink and attack his ankles again. He stared out the window and three singing robots. One was red, the second white, and the third, green. "Weeeeeeeeee wish you a...." they chorused.

"Remember last year with that pesky blue Carbuncle?" Watson asked.

"All too well," Holmes said. He gently shooed Gypsy away as she pounced on his shoes. "Go on, get out of here," he hissed at the kitten.

"What have you and Annabelle been up to?" Watson asked.

"Baking." Lestrade said. She held up a large tray and smiled. "Annabelle’s been showing me old Victorian recipes."

"Oh my," Watson said as he inspected the contents. "This looks delicious."

Annabelle chuckled. "It is, Watson. Don’t worry. We’ve been sampling some of what we’ve been tasting."

"Hey! Something smells good!" a familiar voice cried.

"Oh no, not that blue Carbuncle again!" Holmes cried in anguish. "What did he do? Escape from Grayson?"

"He was released?" Annabelle asked.

"No, I mean 'escaped'."

The toy Carbuncle dove into the Christmas basket Watson had set on the table. "Mmmmph!" he cried when Annabelle gently pulled him out. "Hey, lady! Can’t you see I’m eating?"

"For a toy, you sure eat a lot," Annabelle noted. "Besides, those are for Christmas."

"But I’m hungry!"

"Eat your vest."

A muted chuckling sound seemed to be coming from Holmes. "The same Annabelle I remember from my day."

By now the toy had been released and was inspecting Annabelle’s skirt. He pulled up the lower ruffle, let it drop, and then tried to see what was underneath the skirt.

"Hey!" Annabelle exclaimed as she yanked her skirt out of the Carbuncle’s grasp.

"I just wanted to see what was under there. Holmesie probably wonders the same thing. It beats him making eyes at you." The Carbuncle grinned, seeing Holmes’ face flush pink, then twist into an angry scowl.

Annabelle slowly sat on the couch pretending she didn’t hear the words of the pesky toy.

Watson perched at his desk. "I say, you are still as pesky as ever."

The Carbuncle climbed into Annabelle’s lap. "Take me, my pretty. I’m yours," the toy said. "Hey!"

Annabelle gently set him on the ground. "No, thank you."

"I say, Annabelle only has interest in gentlemen. And you are no gentleman," Watson declared.


"Oh my!" Watson cried as he dropped a Christmas tree ball when Gypsy ran by followed by the blue Carbuncle.

Annabelle lunged for the ball. It fell from her left hand to her right, and then to her left. She handed the ball to Watson from the floor. Gypsy ran over Annabelle followed by the Carbuncle.

"Cut it out!" Holmes roared at the toy. "Leave that poor kitten alone!"

"Look who’s talking, Rudolph," the toy retorted.

Holmes frowned at it. "We can find some work for you to do."

The Carbuncle folded his arms and scowled as he pouted in the corner. When someone went by the Carbuncle would occasionally make faces at them. "What do you want, fleabag?" he demanded of Gypsy.

Gypsy blinked a few times...and then coughed up a very large hairball.

"Ewwwwwwwwww!" the Carbuncle shrieked.

"Oh my," Watson said. "When they have hairballs, they certainly do have to get rid of them...."

"Well, what are you going to do about it?"

"I think I will let you sit." Watson spun on his heel as he headed for the kitchen.

"Let me sit, will ya..." the Carbuncle muttered. He slowly grinned as he got a fiendish idea.


"Here kitty, kitty, kitty..." the Carbuncle coaxed as he stood by the door. In his hands he held the second batch of jam Annabelle had been making. He set the large pot on the floor as the kitten studied it.

Gypsy leaned over the pot as she smelled the jam. She bent over to take a taste as the Carbuncle gently nudged her in. She fell, unhurt. As quickly as she had fallen in she bounced out of the pot and ran. The pot tipped over sending the warm and sticky substance everywhere.

The Carbuncle chuckled as he hid behind the curtains.

"What’s all that...?" Annabelle called as she half-ran up the steps. "Whoa!" she cried when Gypsy ran over her. She yelled again when her feet slipped out from under her. "Carbuncle!"

"Oh, my! Miss Prachett, are you all...whooooooooooaa!" Watson cried as he slipped in the jam. He bumped into Annabelle as the two slipped and slid to the wall.

Watson glared at the laughing Carbuncle. "That was not funny."

"Not funny for whom, eh?"

"Miss Prachett could’ve been hurt."


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