A/N:This is going to be a choose your ending fic, so there are two options, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5. So if you're a cold hard reality type person, I would go with 4, and if you're a hopeful romantic, read 5. And if you're not sure, read both and decide which one you like best. Takes place before Holmes comes back to life. I own nothing. BTW, I'm taking a lot of creative liberty with Tamas's character. I have him as sort of a father figure to Simza, because I don't really know who he is supposed to be.

Chapter 1: Simza

After Holmes's funeral, there really was no reason for me to stay in London. But I did. I lingered for a quite a while, my excuse being to make sure the doctor was all right. Tamas stayed with me for a bit, but I could tell he longed for Paris, just as he could tell I did not mean to go back. The look in his eyes told me that he felt there was more to my desire to stay than my given reasons. I waved his suspicions off, claiming that I liked the city, but he knew the truth. When he announced he was going to return to Paris, he held out something wrapped in paper.

"For you," he murmured, placing it in my hand. When I opened it, the ugly blue and brown scarf that the doctor had worn fell out. The one Tamas had stolen from him.

"To remember him by, when you leave." He didn't have to tell me who he meant. "Au revoir, Sim." And he was off.

The gesture was touching, given his dissapproval of the man it had belonged too. I must say, I didn't mind it too much that he was gone. The whole time he'd been with me I'd felt as though he'd been watching my every move. Without him, I felt liberated. I could finally do what I wanted again, without having to sneak around to do it. He was afraid I was going to get hurt, but I could take care of myself. I knew the reason he had been watching me like a hawk. The amount of time I had been spending with Dr. Watson.

"Where were you?'" Tamas asked casually. I shrugged and took a drink from a bottle of wine. We were staying in a tent with a group of other Gypsies who were passing through the city.

"No where," I lied, coolly as I could. From the way he looked at me, I knew he didn't believe me.

"Meeting that doctor friend of yours again, were you?"

"Perhaps." I sighed. "What does it matter to you?"

Shaking his head, Tamas replied, "I would not get too close too him. People like him and people like us aren't meant to be together."

...Perhaps he was right.

After the funeral, the doctor and I spent a good deal of time together. We would meet at cafes or go for walks in the park. He seemed to enjoy my company, and I his. I tried to make him laugh, or smile; he calmed me down when I cried to him about the nightmares I had about Rene. Around any other man I would have never done such a thing, but he was different. And it was then that I began to feel something I'd never felt before.

I had fallen in love with the handsome doctor, despite his first snobbish impression. I could deny it no longer. Somewhere during that crazy race against time, he had stolen my heart, and I, a foolish girl, believed he had felt the same way for me. I told myself that he loved me and that we were meant to be together. It was silly, I know it now, that I ever dreamed of this. It was he who brought me back to reality.

"So, you'll be going back to Paris soon, I take it?" the doctor asked as he sipped his tea. I shrugged.

"I am not sure. I like this city. Especially certain parts of it. I may stay." I tried to sound nonchalant, but inside, my heart beat like a drum. This would be the time, I knew it, that I would reveal my feelings for him.

"Oh, really? And what parts would that be?" I blushed. Was I too obvious? How was it that I, so sure of myself before, found myself so toungue-tied and flustered from just one person? I gathered up the fragments of my self-confidence.

"There are certain... men," I murmured, stretching out my hand to finger the buttons on his coat. "Men like you." Clang! His spoon fell on the metal table. Several other cafe goers turned to look. Much to my dismay, he pulled back and stood up, red-faced. I stood too. I could almost feel his discomort, and I felt bad knowing I had caused it. But why was he uncomfortable about me? Was Tamas right? Was it because I was a Gypsy?

"I can't do this, Sim," he said, pushing me away. I was suddenly angry.

"Why? Are you ashamed of me?" I grabbed his hands. "I love you!" Now his face was pale.

"I'm not ashamed-" he started, and shook his head. "There is something you should know. About me. Before you do something you regret. Something I'll regret." What did he mean? Something he would regret?

"I'm married, Sim." Married? Married? How was it that I had never heard of this? After all the time we'd spent together? I felt the tears prick my eyes, like the blood of my crushed hopes.

"You're married?" I asked, crushed. I was lucky that I did not dissolve right then.

"Yes," he said. Was it my imagination, or did he sound sad? Regretful, even? "I am. I'm so sorry Sim, I thought you knew. I had no idea, that you-" He broke off, and I just shook my head, the tears threatening to fall. He continued. "It's just that- well I've been thinking this for a while now- we shouldn't really be meeting together anymore. People might talk, and it's just- it's not that I don't want to see you, but I'm married. I really don't want a scandal. It wouldn't be fair to you, or my wife- I must go." He gathered his things and set some money onto the table. "I'm sorry. I hope you understand."

It was the last time we ever spoke.

Well, that had hurt. But what was I thinking? Of course, he had his own home, his wife and friends, a prosperous career, while I was just a Gypsy without a dime to my name. He was a king, and I was a peasant. We could never be together.

But still, I couldn't leave him. I watched him walk down the street each morning, taking the routes that we had once taken together. I saw him and his wife together, a lovely couple to anyone on the outside. She was a prim, proper blonde woman, a perfect wife for him, many would say. But they didn't know what I knew. I knew that on the outside, Mary may have seemed perfect, but the doctor needed someone better. He needed someone who would understand him. He needed me. Eventually, he would realize that, I convinced myself. And I would wait for him for as long as it would take.

So I remained in London, working at some horrid restaraunt. I read tarot cards to frivolous men who gazed at me with demeaning expressions on their faces. I acted the part of the mysterious fortune teller they expected me to be. They had no idea that I was a real woman with a real heart, breaking slowly all the time. They merely flung their coins on my table as I spun them tales of wealth, romance, power- things they wanted to lazily tossed coins were barely enough to live on, but I didn't care, so long as I was close to him. One thing was certain though, I was no longer satisfied with my life as a Gypsy fortune teller. Before Moriarty's game, this had been enough for me. But that was before I had met my beloved doctor. Now, I couldn't return to my old way of life without longing for something more. Love. I had experienced it, and I couldn't go back.

And so I wait.

A/N: Well, that was more difficult to write than I thought. I apologize for Watson's OOC-ness, the charecterization muses were not speaking to me yesterday. Simza was a little easier to fake. And Tamas hardly even talks at all, so I basically just made up a character for him. If anyone knows what sort of relationship he has to Simza, please tell me! And please review! Positive feedback and constructive criticism are always welcome!