Fandom: Sherlock Holmes

Title: Epistles

Author: QrYx

Contact Info: jolynx@yahoo.com

Pairing: Holmes/Watson

Rating: PG

Warnings: Nothing much, implied character death, implied preslash

Summary: What actually prompted Holmes to return to London after his 'death'? Why did he not tell Watson before that he was alive.

Challenge: A well-meaning meddler decides to do something about the latent attraction between Holmes and Watson and decides to play matchmaker. Part of the Cliché Fest.

Betas: Crimson_Persephone and Phillip However, I have to admit that the final draft has only gone through a very rudimentary betaing from Phillip because of the lateness of this submission. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone.

Disclaimer: This characters and background story are from the depths of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's imagination, no matter how many Sherlockians argue about that fact! I'm just borrowing them. Even though the complete works of Sherlock Holmes has passed onto the realm of public domain, I am still not making any money from this, unfortunately.

Archiving: Ask me first though I'd probably say yes after the fest is over.

A/N: This is really really late and I really want to thank Kira for allowing this challenge to be included into the fest in the first place as well as allowing me an extension cos I was sick. Also, thanks to Persephone for listening to me flesh this all out and fuss about it till it was done. To Phillip who is sitting patiently next to me waiting for me to finish and for listening to my constant rant of "That doesn't SOUND like Sherlock!", I owe my gratitude and sympathy. This is set in between "The Final Problem" and "The Adventure of the Empty House". My take on a slashier Sherlock Holmes and my insistence that he and Watson were meant for each other!! LOL Anyways, Read, Review and Enjoy!

Epistles

My dear Watson,

It has been a year or so since that dreadful day at Reichenbach falls, and I have finally found the time and the privacy needed to pen this missive. No, I am not dead as I allowed you to believe, as evidenced by the existence of this letter, in fact, I'm in the pink of health.  Ah, I can just picture the look of your face and your shaking hands as you read this letter of mine. I dare deduce you shall be ashen and in shock for the next few lines. Breathe Watson... breathe.

All joviality aside, please, do not think I was callous enough to let you believe me dead for no reason other then my own amusement. I assure you, there were good reason d'être for my disappearance, and I shall most assuredly explain them to you in detail one day.

Now, I shall endeavor to put aside my cowardice and get to the point my dear Watson, for I fear I have an ulterior motive other than assuaging your grief. I have been keeping abreast of your little forays into the world of literature. The manner in which you write our memoirs and chronicle the adventures we have shared gives me much hope for my cause. Perhaps married life and the practice was not all you thought it might be?

I wonder if you still maintain some understanding of my methods and habits, or has the time apart dulled your memory of such things. If it is the former, then I shall be lucky enough to sustain a glimmer of hope that you understand what I am alluding to.

I shall get to the root of the matter for I fear I am starting to prevaricate out of sheer spinelessness. Watson, in all actuality, I would dearly love to address you in a less formal manner, and in fact, I ask your permission to call you John. Under purely private circumstances I assure you.

My dear, dear Watson, (I know I am presuming much, but since when have you ever known me to be overly particular when it came to etiquette?) if this in fact is the case, and this missive intrigues you enough to reply, send it care of my brother Mycroft, he knows how to reach me. Unfortunately, the circumstances that prompted me to disappear, still bar me from returning to London. Nevertheless, correspondence is still permitted, although this might change in the future. I shall await your response. I beg you, no recriminations or epistles of disgust.  I am no doubt quite deserving of your anger for my charade. However, I doubt I could withstand such a debilitating blow.  I dare ask this boon, for our prior friendships sake if nothing else.   If there is no word, I shall understand. Do not worry, you know I am not one to languish and pine away.

However, please know, no matter what your response, for or against, if you ever have need for me, send word to Mycroft and I shall be there.

Your devoted friend,

Sherlock Holmes

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Mr. Sherlock Holmes,

I come to you now as I did several years before, in hopes that you might aid me in this matter as only you can. Before I can get to the root of the problem, I feel that I owe you an apology for the great wrong I have done you over the years. You see Mr. Holmes, John did not receive the letter that you sent so long ago.

I usually peruse the mail in the mornings while John is at the practice. Mr. Holmes, our marriage was then still young and even then I knew that a reunion with you would ultimately cause trouble. No matter what you think of me sir, I would like you to know that I dearly love John, and wanted badly for him to be happy with me as he was with you.

Forgive a foolish, romantic girl her selfishness Mr. Holmes, for I hid your letter from John. He never knew about it and I tried my best to keep it that way, for I wanted a chance for our marriage to bloom away from the overpowering presence of your shadow.

I see now that I was wrong. Weekly he sits at his desk and writes about you, Mr. Holmes. He writes about your exploits and the adventures you had together as if he knew you were still alive. However, he is losing hope and the sorrow weighs on him. I have tried to lift that burden from his broad shoulders but have been unable. As my own troubles worsen, I see now that the only one who can make my John happy again is you.

Sir, I am dying. John does not know and it would break his dear heart if he were to find out. I do not want him to go through my death while his heart is already heavy with sorrow from your death. I beseech you, if there is still an inkling of camaraderie for an old brother in arms within you, return so that you may distract him from what will be hard and heavy months to come.

I send this through your brother Mycroft as you had bade John so long ago. I hope you receive this in good health and can begin to forgive me. If not that sir, at least do not wrong John because of my mistakes and selfishness.

Yours sincerely,

Mary Watson nee Morstan