"My dear fellow" I cried, shocked beyond words that my friend was crying in front of me. I put my hand on his shoulders as he tried to regain control. In the minutes that passed, the dull, heavy pain that was caused by Holmes' coldness now became heavier in his heartfelt sadness. I was always the one left worried over my friend's health, and in two circumstances, over his death. I had never thought he would cry over me.

"Holmes. I am sorry. I should not have told you anything" I cried desperately, trying to placate him. "I have not even tested yet" I told him.

"Watson, we'll go together for the test on Monday" he told me quietly at last, having regained as much of his composure as was possible

"That is not necessary Holmes. I know now that you are really busy with a case" I told him. I did not want to let him know the true results once I'd understood how much he cared.

"And you will stay here with me in the meantime" he continued stubbornly. I smiled despite myself. Until the very last, he would be my master. There was no contradicting him, I felt suddenly lighter again.

"Thank you" I replied, giving in.

"And whatever the results, my dear fellow, they are not final. We will consult all the specialists" he continued. I nodded, not able to do anything else.

Soon after our conversation, Holmes began talking to me as if nothing had happened. He behaved effusively to me. It was suddenly like older times, the only difference in Holmes' manner was that despite his best efforts, his voice often shook as he was speaking and he seemed to be masking a great and overwhelming emotion. In that moment, I was triply thankful for the cancer.

"How have you been, my dear fellow?" he asked me for the third time.

"I have been well, Holmes" I lied for his sake. He looked down as he spoke. A warm red colour covered his cheeks.

"Over my behaviour?" he asked guiltily. I did not reply, my voice felt choked, my chest felt heavy again.

"I understood, Holmes" I lied again.

"You could not have possibly… understood". I determined to be truthful.

"I had always suspected that you would grow tired of me once you retired. You are not a particularly warm man by nature" I said laughing.

"Did you, Watson?" he asked, openly wounded.

"I should not have taken the blasted case" he let out angrily. I was amazed that my suave friend could swear like that. He had dealt with the roughest and crudest of villains in a calm and dignified fashion. I remained silent, half in shock, half in unbounded delight at the open affection he was exhibiting.

"Will you forgive me, Watson?"

"I am surprised you should ask that Holmes. You know that I could never be angry with you".

"I promise not to behave the same way ever again" he told me. I sipped my brandy tentatively, afraid that I should cry.

"Did you not mean anything you told me on our last meeting, Holmes?" I asked, unable to disguise the pain any longer. Holmes seemed to wince and his voice was thick when he replied. He did not look up at me.

"Of course not".

"Haven't you ever felt… contempt for me?"

"Why would you say that, Watson? Haven't I been punished enough?" he asked me.

"When you told me that my doctoring abilities were incompetent in your opinion, during the case of Culverton Smith…"

"Watson. I cannot believe that you still remember it. You are trying to hurt me back, are you not?" he cried suddenly, accusing me.

"No, Holmes. I am not. I am only being truthful with you. I haven't spoken to you in two years and find that I have no control over myself when I speak. I can only be truthful with you now" I said, explaining as best as I could the cause of my questions.

"No. I have never felt any contempt for your doctoring abilities. If I had known that you would remember it so long, I never would have uttered it" he said at last.

"Holmes, I do not have cancer" I told him.

"How do you know? You haven't tested yet, Watson".

"I know".

"What do you mean?" he asked, apprehensively. I saw some of the colour return to his face and I knew I had been right in my decision.

"I lied" I told him.

"But why?"

"I really did want to have one last conversation with you and I knew you would throw me out if I didn't convince you that it was my last one first".

"Is that true, Watson?" he asked me disbelievingly.

"Yes".

"I am glad. I could not tell you how relieved I am. And I fully deserve that Watson. I am only glad that you are well" he told me warmly.

"You're not angry with me?"

"Well, no. Not now, at least" he replied, with an easy laugh.

"Well, Watson. I've been wrong when you I told you that you were no good at dissembling. You have a natural flair for it, apparently" he told me, laughing again. I was immediately happy.

"Thank you".

"But, Holmes, I have to leave today".

"Why? Are you still angry with me? Would you like to pretend you have blood cancer to get back at me, this time?" he asked me and a sear of pain went into my chest though I knew that he was only trying to joke.

"No, Holmes. I really have an appointment with a doctor. I want him to collaborate with me in my medical practice and I should be meeting him early tomorrow".

"Is that so?" he asked me in his old suave manner.

"Yes. If I may, I will return on Tuesday".

"Of course, you may, Watson. I will be glad to have you" he reassured me conscientiously.

"Thank you, Holmes" I said, for rising quickly, for fear that I might give myself away.

"Do you need to leave so soon?" Holmes asked me. I could see that he was trying to find out if I was still hurt about his behaviour.

"Yes, Holmes. Besides, I haven't brought any clothes" I told him, trying to smile.

"You could wear some of my dressing gowns" said Holmes. I was moved beyond words that my friend was finally being glad of my company again.

"It's alright, Holmes. I'll come back on Tuesday. Thank you for everything" I told him. Holmes came with me until my very doorstep, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Goodbye, Watson" he told me, and I could see that he was sorry to see me leave so soon. I wished that I could say that I hadn't lied after all. But I didn't want Holmes to know anything if I did have cancer. But Holmes had been right at one thing, I could be good at dissembling if I wanted to. I smiled at the thought as I replied, "Goodbye, Holmes" perhaps for the last time.