Ok, this was based on The Fool's Hope's fic "Power of the Pen". I have her full permission to write this though of course, it is nowhere near as good as hers.

There's nothing to do. There was a thud and another paper landed in the bin.

I have to write to him. Another paper.

My dearest Watson…..

"It would help if you jotted down your ideas first." Brilliant. That annoying voice is back in my head. I gritted my teeth and tossed another paper behind my back. A soft oomph told me it had hit somebody. I didn't bother to look behind myself.

"Keep it on the table, Tharkey. Then please go away." My Tibetan guide silently left the room. I returned to my frustrating mission. Of trying to write a letter to Watson.

I have just finished reading your account of my death. It is quite interesting and accurate apart from the description of my death.

Try reading it, Mr. Detective.

"Please just get out of my head." Then I realized. I was talking to myself. How utterly pathetic. Mycroft would be appalled.

Why don't you listen to me and read what you've just written? I would have ignored it except for the nagging feeling that maybe-

I read it again. And again.

I felt like the biggest fool on the planet.

'Quite interesting and accurate except for the description of my death?' Why on earth do you sound so sarcastic?

Damn. Another failed attempt. Maybe a more open start.

My Dear Watson,



I am not, in fact, dead.

Oh sure. Give him a heart attack.

My dear Watson,

How can you just start writing without knowing what to say?

"Please. Just stop TALKING!"

"Sir?" Tharkey. This is just wonderful. People intruding everywhere. My life in a nutshell.

"Nothing, Tharkey, I was merely trying to get some work done. You may leave."

"Sir, in order to express your thoughts fully you must first accept them." Excellent. More Tibetan philosophy. I mentally tried to calm myself. He was only trying to help.

"The soul is one of the body's-"He's going to continue this. I needed to take my mind of him, before I strangled him. Think of something calming. That case I solved. Yes, that is a good idea. Everyone was quite impressed. I still remember the look on Lestrade's face. And Watson said-No, don't think about him. Anyone but him.

"Your mind must be calmed and open to all-"How long can he talk? Its been ten minutes, for God's sake.

It might have been Watson here, listening to you.

Not you again. Please just leave.

Oh for heaven's sake. I'm trying to help you.

And how is making me feel guilty going to help me?

"Once the body's flow is evened-"

You'll just have to accept the fact that deceiving him was not-



"-Of course, it may be that-"

Alright. Enough is enough.

"Both of you shut up NOW!" Silence. Ah. Peace.

"Tharkey, I am grateful to your wise words but at present I have no need of them. I'm merely trying to finish a letter. Thank you. And you may leave." Tharkey bowed and left. About time. Now to get back to the letter.

I'm still here.

………………………..

You cannot ignore a voice inside your head.

But I will try to do it as long as possible.

My dearest Watson

……………………. I have decided to alert you to several inaccuracies present in the text…..

You're starting to sound like Mycroft again. Damn. Crumple. Throw.

Maybe you should read his story again. Pick of a starting point from that.

Ah. The first good idea you have given.

Excuse me?

I ignored him, that is to say myself (this is getting annoying. I need to practice those calming exercises that Tharkey talked about.), and instead concentrated on Watson's letter. One phrase jumped out onto me.

…..the best and wisest man I have ever known….

The best and wisest man he has ever known?

My dear Watson you really must meet more people if the best and wisest man you know finds himself incapable of finishing a single letter.



Is that a letter? Or an apology?

That's it. It won't work today. I'm too agitated. With a sigh, I pushed myself away from my bench, my annoying conscience still speaking.

You'll keep postponing it like this and you'll never manage to write it. Why on earth are you being such a coward?

Another day, Watson, I swear. I'll write this letter to you. I'll finish it and send it. Another day, I promise you.

But not now.

A/N: It seems my oneshots are my experimenting grounds. I introduced Holmes's conscience here. Incase you haven't already figured it out, the bold one is the conscience. If you like it please review and tell me how I can improve it or if it got to confusing. And many thanks are of course due to The Fool's Hope.