I have been working on this story on sleepless nights on my laptop. To be honest, I never actually planned on sharing this story, but a friend of mine said it was good and said I should show it to another friend that might help me with it. That friend of a friend is really encouraging and she told me to submit it once I had a title. Which I think I finally have now...

I am frightfully cold and in a great deal of pain, but I have more important matters to consider at the moment. I quickly fish the now senseless professor from the tepid waters that surrounds us before he drowns and wrap him in my dripping Inverness. This done, I drag him onto the bank and stretch him out on the grass. I gaze down at the man/snake that just attempted to kill me. I may be cold, but he is quite probably dangerously so after the soaking that we both took in the frigid water behind us while he was in his serpent form. Snakes are cold-blooded, after all; the very reason that I decided to jump into the aforementioned icy pool with him in the first place. I hope that he shall recover enough to be charged.

Lestrade and Watson are concerned. I don't have to look at them to know it. I somehow keep from shivering while I talk to them and even manage to crack a joke. Lestrade thinks it is terrible but she laughs anyway. She takes my show of humour as reassurance and that is exactly what it was intended for.

Watson is not as easily reassured. Compudroid he may be, but he has my Watson's knowledge and memories in his hard drive. "We should get you home before you catch a chill Holmes," he tells me. "Your temperature is falling rapidly."

Ah. I forget that compudroids don't have to touch something to gauge its temperature. I have no doubt that my Watson would have found that ability very useful.

"Can you not shiver?" he asks with fresh concern as he watches me. "You need to. Your core temperature will fall dangerously if you do not."

A shiver runs through me and I rub at my sodden arms. My torso and arms are still painful from being squeezed by a giant reptile and the tremour hurts. "I am all right," I insist.

"All the same, you should let Watson take you home," Lestrade tells me. "I don't want you to get sick. I'll take care of our criminal and escort him to the Yard. I'll call by and return your Inverness in the morning, OK?"

I nod wearily, shiver again and try not to wince. I am becoming tired now and I know that my companions are right; I am at risk of becoming dangerously chilled myself. I very much doubt that I shall catch anything though as I have never been overly prone to colds and chills. All I need is a good soak in the bath before bed.

Watson escorts me to our car with all the gentleness and concern of my faithful companion of old. He apologises for not having any blankets to offer me as he helps me into my seat and turns on the heater. Despite the sudden warmth I begin to shiver vigorously.

"Good! You are shivering now," he remarks cheerfully.

I frown back at him, for I see no reason at all to be so pleased about it. I am too cold to relax and as a result the shivering makes me ache even more. It also causes my breaths to become ragged.

"Do you feel ill?" he asks me, making me realise that my only response has been a glare and poorly-suppressed groan.

I shake my head and sniff. "I feel all right," I assure him abruptly. "I am only cold." I am also tired, but surely that is natural; the hour is late and continual, vigorous shivering uses a lot of energy anyway.

Watson gives me a small smile and concentrates on driving. "We'll be home soon old boy. I shall get you a cup of tea while you dry off and change your clothes."

Ah, it seems I am going to be bossed about until he is certain that I am in perfect health. Well, we shall see about that! On the other hand, I am dreadfully tired and a cup of tea sounds like Heaven at the moment. I shall submit for the time being.

We have been driving in silence for a few moments when I become aware of a lurking sneeze. I know that it is most likely due to the water that went up my nose when I dived into the pool but Watson will become concerned if he hears me. I shift in my seat and try to fight the building urge, which of course only makes it worse.

"Holmes?" my friend puts the car on autopilot and turns his full attention to me as my breath begins to hitch. He places a hand on my shoulder, making me shiver anew as my cold, wet clothes are pressed against my chilled skin, and leans as close as the restricting seatbelts allow. "Are you all right old chap?"

I close my eyes and turn away to avoid sneezing in his face. He may be immune to anything but a computer virus but I am not about to be impolite.

"Holmes...?"

I want to respond. The poor fellow sounds so confused and worried by now that I feel compelled to say something. I am completely at the mercy of my stinging nose however and am unable to speak a word. After what seems an eternity, but must really be a matter of seconds, I pitch forward into my hand with a rather loud "Huh-atchoo!"

"Bless you!" he pats my shoulder gently. "I hope you have not caught a cold."

I assure him that I have not; that I simply have rather more dirty pond water up my nose than I would like and that my body is taking necessary action. I give a further two sneezes as I speak as if to prove my point.

"Bless you. Oh bless you! I hope that you did not swallow any," he remarks with renewed concern.

I did not, though I did have to spit rather a lot of it out to avoid doing so, and I assure him of that hastily. He is quite worried enough.

"You are quite sure?" he asks me with a frown.

I nod and pitch forward with yet another sneeze. "Hitchoo! If the smell of that water is any indication, I probably would have vomited long before now," I tell him with a grimace.

"Bless you old boy," he pats my shoulder again. "Very well, you've convinced me. You are very pale though, even by your standards. I know that that could be put down to your falling body temperature, but all the same... You are quite sure that you feel all right?"

I nod and suppress a yawn. "All I need is a hot bath and a cup of tea." And my bed. My bed has never been so inviting!

He smiles. "I can arrange that for you," he assures me.

When we finally draw up outside of 221B Baker Street I am completely spent. Cold and filthy I may be, but I am no longer sure that a bath is a good idea. I am practically sleeping on my feet as Watson helps me up the stairs to our living room.

"Poor Holmes," I hear him remark quietly. "You are tired, aren't you? Here, wrap this blanket about you while I light the fire."

I am helped into my favourite chair, which is then pulled closer to the fireplace. There is soon a cheerful blaze in its hearth. My companion next finds me a handkerchief before going down to the kitchen.

I huddle in the blanket and shiver miserably. My nose is still stinging and I blow it vigorously in an attempt to rid myself of the filthy water that is causing my discomfort. I truly am grateful that I did not swallow any of the vile liquid.

By the time Watson returns with tea I am feeling a little better. I have removed my shoes and socks and the fire is warming my frozen feet. The sneezing seems to have subsided as well. If only I did not ache!

I am handed a cup of tea and told to drink up. My first eager sip warms me beautifully but it tastes as if my companion has emptied an entire bag of sugar into it. I shudder and grimace. "Watson! What the deuce is that? It's too sweet! Ugh!"

"That is to restore you Holmes," he explains patiently. "Sugar contains energy, which you have clearly spent trying to keep warm."

I am forced to bow to his logic and grudgingly finish the drink. I may not like it, but it does seem to help.

"I shall get you some more tea and then draw you a bath," my friend informs me.

I nod and settle back as he pours more tea into my cup.

The second cup of terribly sweet tea leaves me feeling almost as good as new and I am now confident that I can bathe without drowning myself. This time, Watson carries me up the second flight of stairs and into the bathroom. He explains that he shall ensure that the water's temperature remains only slightly higher than my body temperature.

"I shall monitor the water and add more heat to it as required," he says, wrapping his arm around my shaking body. "You are still recovering and should not be allowed to get too hot. You could be scalded."

He then tells me to undress and wrap the blanket around myself while he runs the bath.

I don't like to be ordered about, but still I comply without a word of protest. John Watson was an excellent doctor and I know that his knowledge in such matters should be taken seriously. Even if it is coming from a droid. I also do not want to waste energy by arguing.

The bath is good and I am glad to be clean again. The warm water stills my shivers and banishes the smell of the pool. Each time I begin to shiver again my companion adds more hot water, ensuring that I remain warm enough.

"These bruises look painful," Watson remarks, running a hand over my upper arm.

I flinch at the touch.

"Sorry Holmes," my friend checks my wounds carefully while he helps me to bathe. He also ensures that I have no water in my lungs. "You were very lucky," he says at last. "There was no serious damage done. I expect you have some nasty bruising to the ribs, but there is nothing broken and no internal bleeding."

I nod tiredly. "I would have told you if I thought that my injuries were serious," I remind him.

"Yes, of course," he replies with a smile. "That is why I was more concerned about your low body temperature. All the same, I had to put my mind at rest when I saw those bruises."

I open my mouth to reply but instead give a tremendous yawn. "Oh, excuse me," I mumble as my eyelids start to droop of their own accord.

Watson holds me upright as he quickly rinses the remaining soap residue from my hair and skin and helps me out of the bath before wrapping me in towels. "Go back down to the sitting room and sit by the fire while I prepare your bedroom," he instructs. "I don't want you to get cold again."

I decide to use the lavatory and brush my teeth first. I am not going to want to go into the washroom before I get into bed. I am already fighting to stay awake.

By the time I stumble into the living room I am feeling chilly again. I curl myself into my chair beside the hearth and pull the towels closer. I can feel my weariness pulling at me but do my utmost to wait until I am in bed before I give up the fight.