New Adventures of Scarlett Holmes Ch. 01

Note- This is a re-edited update of my previously published series. Which is a sequel to 'The Adventures Of Scarlett Holmes.'

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There have been numerous attempts to update Sherlock Holmes into the modern age and so I have decided to place my imagined version from 1891 to the present day. As usual, Scarlett Johansson is my chosen heroine with Emma Watson by her side. This tall tale is entirely fictional and not meant to offend any celebs described herein.

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Chapter One.

'Holmes Falls'

London, 1891.

It is with a heavy heart that I take up my pen to write these last words in which I shall ever record the singular gifts by which my friend and lover, Miss Scarlett Holmes, was known and distinguished.

I, Doctor Emma Watson, will be forever indebted to the superlative consulting detective pertaining to our outstanding adventures. Not to mention our mutually explored sexuality.

The striking thirty-five-year-old blonde had been blessed with a large brain and a large bosom, and although she and I enjoyed our private romance and love affair, Scarlett had been free from social conventions and traditional ideas of the late Victorian era and had slept with both men and women alike.

We had shared several wonderful years living in our rented rooms at 221B Baker Street before that woeful day in May this year when my beloved Holmes perished, together with Professor Moriarty, at the bottom of the Reichenbach Falls.

My life, and those of the entire British Isles, whether they are aware or not, will never be the same. She saved the Empire on countless occasions, and the majority of us were able to sleep soundly at night thanks to her endeavors and accomplishments in tackling the most evil of criminals. My life goes on, hoping that dear Scarlett has found peace, wherever her soul may rest.

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Scarlett Holmes felt the spray of the Falls on her face as she lost her footing and dropped like a stone. Beside her, Professor Moriarty fell with her, both flying through the air in a bundle of flailing arms and legs. The so-called Napoleon of crime, and the celebrated consulting detective, had been locked in a final conflict that had resulted in a fight to the death. Locked in combat they had both lost their footing and had been hurled into the raging water. The animated Holmes experienced an unsettling myriad of lurid colours as she tumbled over and over into a seemingly endless abyss. As the sensation continued, she felt as if she were falling in slow motion, with no resistance or friction. Streaks of bright light flashed in her eyes and she became more and more woozy until there was only inky blackness. Was this death then?

x

London, 2023.

"Heavens! The noise! The smell! The lights!"

Scarlett Holmes reeled as all of her senses were assaulted. The vein in her temple pulsated as she awoke from the nightmare that was her untimely death. As she tried to grasp what had occurred she found herself on the hard pavement of a busy thoroughfare.

"How odd."

The night had fallen, yet the roads and pavements remained lit by countless street lights that highlighted numerous pedestrians as they went about their business. Young females walked in pairs and by themselves, and some wore their dresses high up on their legs revealing lots of bared flesh! Men strolled the sidewalks, several with hair down past their shoulders, and one man, in particular, seemed to be talking loudly into what appeared to resemble a packet of tobacco in his hand!

"What infernal place is this?"

She was still dressed in her Victorian finest. Floor-length dress, high buttoned and lace-up white shoes, and a tightly fitted upper corset that served to cover her overlarge breasts. The golden blonde accosted the nearest person as the smell of motor oil made her wrinkle her pretty nose.

"Sir! I beg of you. Where is this? Why is it so loud? Is this hell?"

Scarlett held her ears to shield out the roar of automobiles that flashed past and a passing aircraft overhead screamed with its three large engines.

"Why, it's the City of London. Where else? You been on the sauce, lady?"

The man brushed past the distraught Holmes who spun around in a confused whirl. Everywhere was lit brightly. Shop windows, houses, and passing motor cars. And metal, huge structures made of metal and glass abounded and seemed to puncture the very sky. Here, there, and everywhere were sprawled people. Hundreds of people, dressed in such outrageous clothing she had never seen the like of. Echoes of Indignant laughter and loud conversation filled her ears as she struggled to make some sense of it all. A middle-aged woman with a kindly face approached and looked into the pleading eyes of Scarlett.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Madam. I feel as if I am going insane! Has the world gone mad? Are we at war?"

"No, silly. It's just a regular Saturday night. Can't stop, I'm off to see the latest Marvel movie."

"Movie? What?"

Scarlett took two paces forward and tumbled into the road disoriented, only to be brought back to earth by the loud horn of a Ford Fiesta that almost ran her over.

"Get out of the road, you stupid bitch" Cried the driver as he wound down his window.

"I feel...feel faint."

A light rain fell and dappled her somewhat crumpled dress, and as Scarlett tried to find a purchase or risk falling to the paving stones, a helping hand reached out to catch her.

"Careful, you very nearly fell over."

Scarlett looked up into an angelic face that beamed broadly at her, and a chill overcame her, not from the cold but from the notion that she might very well be staring at a ghost.

"Watson! Dear Watson. It's you!"

Emma Watson smiled and spread her hands.

"Yes, it's me. What would you like? A selfie or an autograph?"

"A selfie? What?" Scarlett gave Emma a curious look.

"Who shall I make it out to?"

Emma turned to her female friend who handed her a scrap of paper and a ballpoint pen.

"Watson?"

"Your name? Who shall I sign it to?"

"My dear Doctor. It's me."

"Doctor? No, I'm no Doctor."

"Emma. It is I. Scarlett Holmes. I'm alive."

"I can see that. Are you a Harry Potter fan, or is it Beauty and the Beast you like best."

"Potter? The only Potter family I know of is that loathsome family of rapscallions from Rotherhithe, the patriarch of which is currently serving fifteen to twenty for burglary in Brixton Prison at the pleasure of Her Majesty Queen Victoria."

"Victoria? Hold on. Scarlett Holmes? My grandmother used to tell me stories of Scarlett Holmes with my great-grandmother."

"Tell me? Who is your great-grandmother?"

"Doctor Emma Watson. She died in 1928."

"1928? 1928? Prey, what year might this be?"

Scarlett looked perplexed and she wrung her hands and looked wide-eyed.

"Why 2023, of course."

"Absurd! This cannot be. My mind simply cannot entertain the notion. Have I been asleep for over 130 years? Alas! My mind fails me."

Scarlett took a huge lungful of air and coughed and heaved as she inhaled the polluted air. The next thing she knew was utter darkness.

x

Scarlett opened her eyes and blinked in the harsh electric light of the airy room. She inhaled deeply through her nostrils and felt a calmness, almost a tranquil feeling. At the foot of the three-seat sofa she was lying on stood Emma, looking rather fetching in a white bathrobe and with her lustrous hair loose about her shoulders. The sweet curve of Emma's pert breasts could be readily seen and the sight was instantly alluring to the rapt Holmes. The once-famed consulting detective wanted nothing more than to see more of the adorable creature.

"Where, where am I?"

"You're in my flat in Canary Wharf. A cab driver brought us here."

"A Hansom cab? But where is Canary Wharf?"

"Close to Commercial Road, by the river."

"Ah, Limehouse. I know of it only too well."

Scarlett sat up and looked out of the window and screwed up her eyes. It seemed as if they were quite high above the ground.

"Is the building tall?"

"We're on the twenty-fifth floor. Are you really Scarlett Holmes? Because she died in 1891."

"Twenty-fifth floor? Is this some kind of a joke? Buildings in the sky? The fall at the Reichenbach seems to have been some work of the devil himself. Is The dear Doctor really dead?"

"Natural causes. She raised a family after you disappeared. I'm named after her. I act in the movies."

That word again.

"What are these movies you speak of?"

"Films. Motion pictures. You never saw one before?"

"I couldn't possibly imagine what one could conceivably be like. This is insanity! I must get back to Baker Street. My abode, 221B Baker Street."

Scarlett sat up and felt dizzy as a result and Emma supported her as she fell back into the push seat.

"You must rest. You're not well. Anyway, 221B is no longer there. It's a bank now."

"A bank? I must find Mister Hudson, my sister. I must..."

"Don't you see? If you really are Holmes. Everyone you knew is dead. And you are over 160 years old!"

Scarlett felt a pang of anxiety in the pit of her stomach.

"Goodness!"

Scarlett stood up slowly and realised that she had been stripped of her dress and stiff undergarments, and put into the skimpiest of night attire. She focused on the pretty face of Emma and pouted at the astonishing likeness of her friend and lover, Doctor Watson. Scarlett ran a hand through her soft hair and raised her right shoulder seductively, feeling a lot more like her bodacious self.

"160! Do I look it?" She asked in deep honeyed tones.

x

"Did you undress me last night?"

Scarlett shot Emma a look and felt a warm glow in her loins at the mere thought. How she resembled her dear Doctor was astounding. It was as if she had been reincarnated in the form of her youthful ancestor.

'Yes, I did. That outfit looked a little cumbersome. How did you ever live in that all that time ago? So, you really think that time travel is possible?"

Emma's voice came from the adjoining bathroom as she presumably attended to her ablutions.

"I suppose." Answered Scarlett, who tried to peer furtively around the corner of the room. "I'm a firm believer in science, there are many wondrous things in our universe. And indeed, here I am. It is said by the Swiss locals however that the Reichenbach Falls have a unique history of strange phenomena and mystical occurrences."

"What would you like for breakfast?"

"Oh, just some Lapsang Souchong tea and some Kedgeree if you have it. If not, a smoked kipper will suffice."

"Some what? I have some Coco Pops and instant coffee."

"Coco...what? INSTANT coffee!"

The sound of running water could be heard and Scarlett crept on bare feet as close as she dared to the bathroom.

"Did you have a close relationship with my great-grandmother?"

"Indeed. We were exceptionally close in fact. We would have given our lives for the other."

"That's nice."

"She was a most loyal companion and a rare beauty."

"Funny she married so late in life. You must have had a lot of adventures together."

Holmes felt her heart flutter at the sight of the bared Emma under what appeared to be a personal waterfall. The blonde's eyes played over the splendour that was Emma in all her naked glory. Her exquisite neck, the arch of her back, and the subtle curve of her perfect bottom. The freckles on perky breasts that still had the pink nipples that always seemed to be hard and erect. How many times had she held the gorgeous creature in her arms, what was the number of occasions the pair of them had kissed, relishing the erotic play of tongues in each other's mouths?

"I shan't be too long. I've had a long day."

But this was not her Emma, but another, born of a different time, of a modern world that she did not belong to. Scarlett's hand went automatically to her mound under the shirt nightgown as she watched Emma in a cloud of steam and cascading hot water. Rivulets ran down the front of her body and as she lifted her face to the head of the shower the spray matted her light brown hair to her shoulders. Then Scarlett gasped as Emma turned her back to the shower and the famed detective saw her neat triangle of pubic hair above her mouth-watering and damp labia.

"Mercy me!"

Emma began to unwind under the cascade of hot water and she explored her sweet body, caressing her breasts, down to the subtle roundness of her bottom, and gently over the tops of her slim thighs. Scarlett found her own moist pussy and delved inside with her middle digit. Emma had a bar of soap in her hands and once she had created a reasonable lather, then proceeded to wash her body from neck to cunt. Her head tilted back as her right hand made tiny circular motions on her snatch, rubbing carefully in order to make her muff squeaky clean.

"Oh, darling Emma."

Scarlett stroked her own weeping slit, sliding up and down as she stood on tiptoe, bent slightly at the knees. A tiny moan emanated from her parted lips as she eyed an abandoned solid wood hairbrush by her feet. Twirling it in her hand turned it backward and used the handle to pleasure her throbbing cunt. Happy memories of her making love to Doctor Watson came flooding back as she fucked herself.

"Emma."

How she loved to grip Emma's fine hair as she licked both of her medium-sized tits and nibbled lightly on both of the pink nipples. The smell of the dear Doctor was always intoxicating as she buried her face between her splayed thighs and breathed in the heady scent of her soft pussy folds and probed her wetness for hours. Holmes recalled Emma's smooth pins that always wrapped around her hips as they ground their dripping loins into each other and mashed their cunts together in a glorious union.

"Doctor, dear Doctor."

Scarlett compared the sighs and moans of this adorable young filly to her beloved Emma as they rubbed their aroused clits together, legs entwined and panting hard. In the shower cubicle, Emma had moved in such a way that the jet of water was directed at her muff. The natural beauty wiggled her backside to and fro, welcoming the fine spray splashing her most sensitive spot. Now, Scarlett cried out as she slid the handle in and out of her pussy her eyes widened at the erotic sight. Her buttocks clenched as her orgasm raged through her and she shook on the balls of her bare feet as her ecstasy took hold.

"Hope you don't mind a single bed, I wasn't expecting company this weekend."

Scarlett opened her eyes and retreated back to the main room as Emma stepped out of the cubicle and dried off her bare bod with a fluffy white towel.

"That will be splendid," replied Scarlett with a croak in her voice.

Emma unashamedly held each end of the towel and used it to saw back and forth on her crotch to dry it off, trapping the towel between her clamped thighs for maximum friction. Scarlett gulped back emotions as Emma shook out her hair and fluffed it up with curled fingers. Then she hopped into the room in her robe again and sat on the edge of the sofa beside the exasperated Scarlett.

"You can stay here for a while until you get yourself together. I have to go to New York tomorrow for a shoot."

"A shoot? Who or what will you be shooting?"

"No, a photoshoot. I'll be back in four days. Then we can have a nice chat."

"Four days? Surely it takes three days out of Southampton just to sail there?"

"I'm not sailing. I'm flying."

"Preposterous! We shall never take flight like the birds. At least not in my..."

Holmes left the sentence uncompleted. Indeed, this was NOT her lifetime.

"You have food in the refrigerator and you can use the micro to heat the meals up. Okay?"

"Your words are clear, yet the meaning is quite elusive."

Emma bent and kissed Scarlett on the head and the blonde felt a frisson of a thrill from this merest touch.

"Goodnight, Scarlett Holmes."

Emma left the room and turned out the light.

Goodnight, my one true love.

x

Over the next few days, Holmes mastered the workings of the telephone, microwave oven, and television set. Having been given a hefty book on the history of the twentieth century, she brooded for hours until the return of the delectable Emma. As Scarlett opened the micro door she contemplated the dish of defrosted fish fingers and tossed them into the waste basket.

"Since when did fish have fingers anyway?"

The front door opened and the effervescent Emma bounded in.

"Hello? How have you been?"

"Much better, thank you. Your selection of cereal is most fortifying."

Scarlett pointed to the several boxes of Frosties, Rice Krispies, Fruit Loops, and Coco Pops.

"You've been living on cereal?"

"The contents of your refrigerator leave a lot to be desired. Come, we shall dine out at the Care Royal, where they once served the finest Roast Rib of Scottish Beef and Yorkshire Pudding. Alas, I have no funds to pay for the feast."

"This will be on me, it's the least I can do."

"Many thanks. I plan to get back on my feet, as it were, and resume my unique expertise in solving the unsolvable. I have devoured the astonishing history of the recent century, and digested much of the state of the world, My dear Watson, I believe that there is much for me to do in this modern age of yours."

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Chapter Two.

'The Old Scarlett Embraces The New'

"And that is how Doctor Watson and I retrieved the jewel-encrusted dildo belonging to Princess Louise, fourth daughter of Queen Victoria herself."

"What a fantastic tale. A stolen Royal sex toy." (See The Adventures of Scarlett Holmes for the story)

"It wasn't very practical, I can tell you that much. Yet that tale is not as fantastic as the unique adventure involving the three students who lived and studied at St. Luke's College in Cambridge. In order to establish the identity of the person responsible for impregnating the young Governess, who was so inebriated on this occasion that she was unable to recall which of her three lovers had gotten her with child. Her only solid memory of he who was accountable for the deed was the singular fact that he ejaculated excessive amounts of sperm when he climaxed. Your grandmother and I took it upon ourselves to have intercourse with the named and shamed three gentlemen in a marked attempt to discover the guilty party."

"You slept with each of the students in order to solve a case?"

"Quite so. And the results were most gratifying I can tell you. The culprit was a proverbial pistol. Despite the stuffy and hypocritical morality in the reign of Her Majesty, Queen Victoria, even the most respectable men and women surrendered to their wildest sexual needs and desires. Doctor Watson was a relative sex kitten."

Scarlett Holmes looked at herself this way and that in the full-length mirror as she spoke. She was modeling an ultra-soft sleeveless print dress with a hem that came up to her mid-thigh. Her feet were slipped into an elegant pair of gold and silver Jimmy Choo heels.

"Do modern women really dress like this in public? I feel half naked."

"Of course. You look great. That particular little number cost me a bundle at Harvey Nichols. It's a Balenciaga."

"Indeed? A 'bundle' of what precisely?"

"Money. About a grand in fact."

"You spent a thousand? In pounds sterling? Why, you could buy an affordable house for the same sum!"

"Shush! There."

Emma put the finishing touch to Scarlett's hair and both examined the results in the mirror. The blonde had her hair swept back in a voluminous updo that classically framed her forehead. A touch of high-shine eyeshadow brightened her green eyes, and the carmine lip gloss highlighted her signature pout.

"This is acceptable?"

"Perfect. Now you look like you fit in with the rest of us."

Scarlett's face expressed doubt as she took a long drag of her Dunhill menthol cigarette and blew out the blue smoke.