A/N: I'm baaack! Remember me? …..*sigh* Didn't think so. *grin*

I leaned back into my armchair, reveling in its softness…and the softness promptly disappeared.

In front of me I heard Holmes give a low moan.

"Oh, not again…"

At my back was hard stone. Fresh green grass was growing near my feet. Our sitting room had disappeared had into mountains and crisp morning air. The lofty peaks of mountains rose on either side of us.

We were sitting in a valley.

I closed my eyes and sighed. "Its those authors again, isn't it?"

I could almost hear Holmes gritting his teeth. "Yes."

"Oh dear."

After a few moments of shock, I head to admit it was quite pleasant. The air was far cleaner and frsher than the smog found in London and after a few minutes, I found myself glad to stretch out against the grass and look up into the bright blue sky.

"Watson." Holmes's voice came from somewhere in the peripheriel region and, not uncharacteristically, it sounded most annoyed. "Watson, cease your incessant daydreaming. We have to find a way to escape this place!"

"why?" I murmured lazily. The cool breeze had lulled me to a near slumber. "Its quite peaceful here. There is no harm in staying awhile, is there, Holmes?"

"Once again Watson, you are being duped by their words." I opened my half closed eyelid and looked at him. "They are plotting something behind this, this peaceful valley is merely a ruse, I'm sure."

I closed my eyes again. "But to what end?"

"That I cannot tell. You know perfectly well I can't understand their juvenile…undertakings!" I burst into laughter at his words as Holmes looked at me with a mixture of annoyance and exasperation."I'm being very serious, Watson!"

"I know!" I tried to stifle my rising chuckles unsuccessfully. Holmes's indignation seemed to rise.

"Is it not enough that I must deal with the antics of these…these… 'fan authors' who seem to have regressive ideas what to do with their time-"

A bolt of lightning struck the ground , several feet away from where we sat. Holmes sprang to his feet with an oath and I clambered to my feet. Together, we both stared, stupefied, at the burnt out area.

"Holmes." I said atlast. "I think you must refrain from making unnecessary statements about our 'friends' capabilities."

Holmes stared at region and then towards the sky. "They are watching us." He said finally. "what are they planning?"

"Who knows?" I shrugged and sat down. The ground was comfortably soft. It was, I reflected, good of them to pay attention to details like this.

Thank you, Dr. Watson.

Ah. Just as well to ignore the voice in my head then. It never led to any good.

A voice started me out of my reverie. "Hello there, Mr. Holmes! And you Dr. Watson!" Turning around, we stared as the ferret like figure of Inspector G. Lestrade appeared on the slope of the hill, waving cheerfully. Behind him, the familiar bulk of Gregson followed, the characteristic look of pompous irritation on his face.

"Lestrade!" I exclaimed, getting to my feet. "How in God's name did you end up here?!"

The inspector was grinning, in complete contrast to his companion. "To tell you the truth, Dr. Watson, I haven't any idea myself but seeing as you and Mr. Holmes are here, it must be 'their' work." He looked at Homes, who gave a stiff nod.

"Jolly good of them to let you come too, I should say."

The inspector laughed. "I'd say! Just in time too, or else-"

"Gerald! You will get back here this instant!"

Lestrade winced as both Gregson and I looked on in amazement. Holmes smirked.

"Escaping the in-laws again, Inspector? Tut tut."

Lestrade glared at my friend. "I didn't escape. Those women brought me here. Though," he concluded thoughtfully, looking at the surroundings, "Its quite pleasant. It has been some time since I've had a holiday."

"We have at least thirty reports lying unfiled!" Gregson angrily burst in. "And we have yet to solve the case regarding the missing gumboots!"

"Gumboots?" I repeated, mystified, while Gregson continued to splutter and Lestrade sighed and closed his eyes.

"Of the Marquis, Watson." Holmes explained, smiling a little. "Important gumboots."

"Boots." Lestrade opened his eyes wearily. "That is what the Scotland Yard is reduced to. Looking for shoes."

"Times change my dear boy, it-"

"Sherlock!"

We all turned around as a fairly familiar voice echoed down the valley and a figure materialized where Lestrade and Gregson had appeared from. I took in the broad flabby face and the white forehead and recognized the face of Mycroft Holmes.

"Great Gods." Holmes whispered as Mycroft Holmes approached us. "Those writes both him here?"

"Why not?"

"Watson, my brother has his timings. Currently he should be in the Diogenes club. I think he'll be most displeased to find-"

"Sherlock! I want an explanation now!" Mycroft had reached us, and gasping slightly, proceeded to glare balefully at his younger sibling, who quirked up an eyebrow.

"What shall I tell you, brother mine? Put your vast deductional powers to use and observe."

"What did you do them now, Sherlock?"

"I?" Holmes looked flabbergasted. "What could I have done?"

"Of course!" I looked around at him. "I completely forgot!"

"Forgot what?"

"Don't you remember Holmes? Yesterday you were examining the new stories they had written and you …ahem…" I coughed politely," You made several…derogatory…remarks regarding their quality-"

"It was criticism!"

"Were they deserving of said remarks, Dr. Watson?" Mycroft asked still glaring to his brother.

"I should say not."

"Good." Mycroft clapped his hands. "Come Sherlock, apologize to them, and we shall have no more of this nonsense."

"Apologize?" Holmes spluttered. "Why? I have complete right to exercise my right to free speech-oh for heaven's sake!"

We all looked at him, or be precise, down at him. The little Scottish terrier glared back at us.

"Just so you know," I said looking up at the sky," I am Scottish. His grandmother married a French artist which I believe you know already. But please don't turn him into a poodle. Just himself will be fine."

There was a rustle of grass. "Thank you, Watson."

Apology accepted, Dr. Watson. And Mr. Holmes.

"Before you say anything," Holmes snapped before I could open my mouth, "let me tell you I did not apologize to them."

I smirked. "Of course you didn't."

Thank you, Dr. Watson. That will do. This length is fine.

I was no longer standing on grass. The firelight threw grotesque shadows on the walls of our room. Holmes and I both sank into our respective armchairs with a sigh of relief.

"I suspect," I said, "this is going to become another one of her stories."

"'Her'? Oh, Runa93."

"Yes."

Holmes rubbed his face wearily. "I should have guessed. Ideas bordering the lunatic fringe can only birth in her mind."

"Softly, Holmes!"

We waited. Nothing happened. Holmes relaxed.

"Perhaps we can enjoy a few days of normaility now, Watson."

"Really Holmes?" I said, staring at his new pink dressing gown. "I hope so too,"

A/N: I haven't been on for a very long time so this is a kind of 'getting-back-into-the-mood" fic. I guess my writing's a bit off, I've been out of practice, so I'm really sorry if Holmes or Watson seem a bit OOC.