Chapter 2: They call me Aeon

'Present, London - 2010'

John Watson woke up in his own bed. A situation which would be considered normal for everyone else, but not for him. He couldn't remember the last time he had slept in this bed with too many pillows and the blanket his grandmother had given him for his sixth birthday when she had already become old and her days on earth were going to an end. John loved the texture of the blanket but he would never take it someplace else. Too dangerous. It could get lost or get dirty or, worst case, destroyed.

John's hand stroked over the blanket like over the fur of an animal and he was enjoying some peace and quiet for the first time in ages until his hand touched a few sheets of paper. He opened his eyes and looked at a file clearly marked as 'highly confidential'. The file Mr. Holmes had given him. The file about the galaxy-eyed-man from the museum. The file about Sherlock. Sherlock who he had met yesterday after he had travelled into the past several thousand years back.

John had to pinch himself. Time travel, immortal people and his new assignment. Before he did anything else John got up, walked into the kitchen and put the kettle on. He needed a cup of tea and breakfast before he could deal with anything else. A look at the kitchen clock told him nothing. It must have stopped some time ago because he hadn't replaced the batteries. After looking through his jacket he found his phone and while preparing his toast he checked the time, 6:30 AM and he also found a new message; from his boss. The best thing to start the morning with.

The message only told him to come back around nine. John had enough time for breakfast, tea, a shower and to study the file at least a bit. But as he found out later, there wasn't much in this file. Only bits and pieces, very little evidence, and most of it only assumptions and theories of times and places where Sherlock had maybe been seen, had maybe changed something, had maybe interacted with someone or pushed something or someone into a particular direction. Lots of maybes and nothing that would tell John where he needed to go next. Except that it would be sometime in the past, sometime long ago and somewhere far away.

After he had finished the file he took his laptop and wrote about his first meeting with Sherlock: everything he had done, said, touched and thought. The last part was only for him, the other stuff would go into the report for his boss. Not that he had told him to do so but he was sure it was expected and John didn't want to get minus points from Mycroft Holmes.

The London underground was fascinating. John always enjoyed the ride. His mother had told him once that every person carried their own story and where could be a better place to read them than a crowded subway train where no one could leave and you didn't need an excuse for staring at people. You could always say you were thinking or day-dreaming.

John watched a family, mother, father, older son and twin girls around ten. A happy family, tourists, on their way to the London Eye. John had never visited it, why should he? It looked like a happy family but the teenage son was unhappy, he had probably been forced to come along and would have preferred to spend time with his friends rather than with his family. The mother was a bit distracted by the girls and didn't notice her husband checking his phone every minute. He would like to be somewhere else too.

The train stopped and John left, leaving the family behind and entering the busy streets of London. The fancy gentleman's club opened his doors for him and he walked down the corridor to his new workplace, still guarded by a silent man. The not talking thing must be very important.

He was welcomed by the woman who had whispered something in his boss' ear yesterday. She introduced herself as Molly Hooper. She was the one responsible for getting John the correct clothing. Not like the last time where he had worn his normal jeans and shirt.

"I'm a bit disappointed that I couldn't get you into my caveman outfit for the summer. It was quite warm when you arrived there, right? I rarely have the opportunity to make something for that time-period. It's a shame; I hope I get another chance." She was a bit like his annoying little sister who never stopped talking. John smiled at her just for that. "I need to measure you. I have your measurements already but I need to check they are right and need a few more, for example the size of your head, for hats and things like that." Before he could even answer her, he was pushed into a corner. "Undress." He was left alone only separated from the main room by blue curtains. But as a man who was used to naked people (he had medical training) and had been in the army (just one word: showers) he didn't mind and stripped.

The woman, Molly came back with a bunch of new clothes for him that looked like a bed sheet. "Do you know how to dress yourself in this kind of clothing?"

"What clothes? That's a bed sheet." John held up the 'clothes' that didn't look like something you could wear in any way.

"It's a Chiton." She rolled her eyes. "Take off your pants too. They didn't have these where you are going. Actually they were mostly naked and did sports together." She blinked and after John lost his pants she tangled the 'Chiton'-whatever around his body. With a belt and a few knots and other stuff John wasn't able to catch, he was dressed like someone in the Asterix comics.

"Am I going to antique Rome?" That was probably the wrong thing to say.

"No. Look, this isn't anything even near the fashion in Rome. It's Greek." After she finished, she turned and John was sure the word 'ignorant' was spoken, but he couldn't prove it. He still felt like he was wearing a bed sheet.

John, now properly dressed for antique Greece, stepped out from behind the curtains. A man showing the first gray hairs was standing in front of him. "Hey pal, my name is Greg Lestrade, you can call me Greg. I'm the one responsible for you equipment, like Molly is for your clothing. Excuse her if she is a bit rude. She is a bit… passionate about her work and doesn't like people who ignore her accuracy because of missing information."

"Guess I made her angry already. I called it a bed sheet and placed it in the wrong time period." John and Greg looked at one another and started laughing.

"Happened to me too, not on my second day though, but no one made her as angry as Anderson." Greg pointed at a man with dark hair that was working on a computer. "He is our assistant, so if you need something, anything, food, water, new clothes, a place to fall asleep, go to him. He actually offended Molly's work in his first hour in this room. She nearly got him fired but she has a soft spot somewhere and she is obsessed with her work, so whatever you do, don't make it dirty." Greg was now pointing at the clothing John had gotten from her.

"I will do my best." Hoping that it was true he turned to the remaining members of his operating team. That one, a woman, must be the one he had talked with over the microphone. "And who is that?" John asked nodding in her direction.

"Sally. Sally Donovan. She is responsible for the communication between here and wherever you go or better whenever. She and Anderson get along a bit too well but as long as it doesn't interfere with the work the boss ignores it. Speaking of which, he is waiting for you." Greg led him to Mycroft Holmes.

"Good morning Mr. Watson. I presume you slept well. Are you ready for your next mission?" Mycroft Holmes, drinking his morning tea in an antique arm chair in the middle of a time travel agency, just seemed totally out of place. The whole picture was wrong.

"Thanks for asking Mr. Holmes. I slept well and I have the report from yesterday's mission for you." Yesterday, had it been only just yesterday that he had travelled through time and met an actual immortal being and chatted with him?

"Very good. I knew you were the right man for this mission." His new boss took the report and placed it next to his tea cup for later reading. "How good is your Greek, Agent?"

"As good as it can be after three years studying it." John thought for a short moment about all the long hours he had learned Greek and other languages. This was one of his obsessions, languages. He knew not only the most frequently spoken ones but also extinct ones, rare dialects and exotic ones no one ever needed unless they got lost in the middle of an Arabic desert.

"Perfect. Did you read the file about Sherlock, as we are calling him now?" John nodded. "Good. One of the pieces of information was an old papyrus from around 700 BCE were the priest of a temple wrote about a demigoddess who settled down in a temple, answering prayers and questions from the people. They called that demigoddess Aeon and described 'her' as a beautiful woman, with dark curls and sharp face. With the ability to read the people's fate and minds and foreseeing the future, don't forget the immortal part. A customer, you could call it, wasn't happy with the fortune-telling this Aeon gave him and stabbed her with a knife. She survived." Mycroft Holmes stopped as he saw John's face turning from open-minded to 'this is rubbish'.

"Sherlock is a man, I'm sure of it. I saw him, twice."

"Yes but maybe he is hiding and disguised himself as a woman because he is running away from something. The fortunetellers were always women, able to interpret the words of the gods. So now that you aware of the situation, here is your mission. You will find Sherlock by visiting the temple and asking the Oracle for advice. You will find out if Sherlock is at his place; if yes, why and also try to find out why he is telling people to do specific things. As always, don't kill anything, don't destroy or create anything. Don't let any traces behind that could change history. Good luck." With that John was dismissed and Greg pulled him away towards his time ship. He could still not believe it completely but he would travel back in time, again. To meet Sherlock, if it was really him.

"Have fun with the ride." Were Greg's last words before the door closed and John was alone in the small capsule.

"Mr. Watson, are you ready to take off?" That must been Sally Donovan.

"Yes, see you in a bit." With a last check on the destined time John started the engine and closed his eyes. "I hope I will get used to it." The undefined feeling that had caused him to get sick last time was back and filled his whole body as the light swallowed him.

'Greece, ~700 BCE'

John opened his eyes and could not see anything. The panic of being blind hit him in seconds and he needed every bit of willpower to stop himself from freaking out completely. After a few slowly taken breaths he opened his eyes again, closed them and opened them again. The technology of the time machine started illuminating the small inside of the capsule. The window to the outside stayed dark. John felt for the right button to open the door. When he exited the machine he found himself under the dark nightly sky of the past. Hundreds of stars and a night illuminated by a new moon covered the sky. He had never seen so many stars in his life. There were no city with street lights burning all night, no advertising on huge signs, just the stars. Lots of stars.

After a few minutes John's eyes got used to the dark and he could see a few rocks, bushes and small trees close by. "…Watson. John Watson. Answer if you can hear me." His thoughts were interrupted by the jamming noise of a bad radio frequency and the voice of Sally Donovan calling his name.

John went back to the ship and found the communication device. "Yes, I can hear you. I landed in the middle of nowhere and it is night, I can't really see where I am."

"Yes that was our mistake. We wanted to send you to midday but now you landed at midnight. You have to occupy yourself until morning. Sometimes things like that happen. If you get bored, there is an instruction manual for the time machine."

"Alright. I guess even if I find a flash light in the machine I can't take it with me anyway."

"Of course not. It's against the law." Sally sounded forceful and a bit angry as if he had done things like that before. It had been his first mission and he had been in his normal clothes and everything. But cavemen were not famous for leaving accurate information behind for eternity to use.

"Good, then continue your mission. I just wanted you to know why you are sitting in the dark." Sally's voice disappeared and John was again welcomed by the peaceful night of antique Greece. He could read the instructions for the time machine or go back to sleep for a few hours but he just sat outside of the time machine and looked up at the sky. He wanted to keep that image of the sky in his mind forever. With a smile he remembered how he had named Sherlock after the visit to the museum. 'Galaxy-eyed man'. The stars and the sky reminded him of Sherlock and he hoped to meet him again in the morning. John wanted to know more about this man. He couldn't really picture Sherlock as a woman but if he had a reason to hide like that, then John would find out what he needed to do to help him.

Without really understanding why John felt a connection between them he couldn't explain but he had the feeling that he would find out soon.

The early morning sounds pulled John out of his slumber; after having watched the night sky for hours he must have fallen asleep. The sun was shining now, so he could observe his surroundings. He was on top of a mountain and it was a good thing that he hadn't walked around in the night. Only a few meters further there was a cliff. John went closer and found that his target was right in the valley under the cliff. Between two mountains and the sea was something like a small village. A huge building, the temple, his destination, on the highest point. A few other buildings were placed around it, a very large one that could only be the hostel for the visitors of the temple, something that looked like a sport park and a building for the sacrificial offering to the Oracle for telling them the future or in this case to the demigoddess.

John wasn't sure what he was supposed to think of the whole woman and goddess thing but after wasting hours of waiting for daylight he was ready for his mission, to look for Sherlock and find out what he was doing here. Without further planning John climbed down the mountain on something that resembled a path. It took him more than two hours to get to the temple, he couldn't be sure without a watch but the sun was already high up the sky, nearly midday when he finally got there. He entered the area of the 'sacred' place with many other people who wanted to ask the goddess Aeon something.

While John lined up with all the other people he slowly got used to the Greek accent again he wasn't fluent with. There were many different accents, none of them he could place to a specific area, but without real examples for antique Greek from his study time there was no way he could do that. While the day went by and the line got closer to the entry of the temple, John noticed what was missing. All around him where people with heavy bags, boxes and carriages full with presents as gifts as thank you or payment for the questions answered. He had nothing.

Panic struck him and he looked around nervously. He hadn't thought about it. Yes he knew about the fact that you brought something for the priest and Oracle but he had only thought about Sherlock and not presents or questions. Even if he wanted to bring something he had nothing in his possession that he could give away. John took a deep breath; it was no use panicking now. He was trained to handle situations like that. Well not really a situation where meeting a demigoddess was involved after traveling through time over two thousand years, but he would manage that too like everything else.

One of the priest came out of the temple and walked down the line of waiting people, he stopped directly behind John and told the person behind him that he had to come back tomorrow. The people behind him didn't sound to upset about it. They slowly took their things to go and get a bed for the night, so as to be the first in line the next morning. John stayed where he was and slowly came closer to his target.

With the sun nearly down he finally entered the room where he was allowed to present his gifts and ask his question. Inside the temple light from the sinking sun was shining through but not enough to see. John could distinguish a 'woman' (his target) sitting in the middle, waiting for his question, a question he didn't have and carrying no gifts he could use to pay for the answer.

"Ask you question and present your highness your present." John wasn't sure why but the priest who spoke to him looked nervous. Something wasn't right, something was different.

"I have no gift for your Aeon but I have a question that is not for me but for you." The words the priest then whispered didn't stop John. He tried to make his Greek as simple as he could so that he wouldn't make any mistakes. "What happened to the name Sherlock?"

It was the only thing that John could think of as a question. He liked the strange name, like the man carrying it, and if that person in front of him was his galaxy-eyed man than he would be safe to ask this question. If it was some woman, a real Oracle or priest, fake or whatsoever he was probably in a lot of trouble now.

To his surprise none of the two worst case scenarios that he had made out in his mind happened. Aeon looked in the semi-darkness at him, John couldn't see her face or eyes properly and therefore couldn't confirm her/his identity but she left the room without a word and none of the priests tried to stop her. John was left alone and after a few minutes he was asked to leave by another priest. Now John was sure he had found Sherlock, 98% sure. It was more than he had hoped for when he had come into the temple.

He needed to find Aeon's room after everyone else had gone to bed. Which in the end proved to be surprisingly easy; they could have put a neon sign in front of it and John could not have found it any easier. It was crystal clear where the priests had placed their money source. He waited until night fall and the business around the place had stopped. To his endless regret he had to hide next to the sport area and was forced to watch until late into the night naked men doing their sports. Not that he had a problem with nudity or men or both combined but he was still a British man and liked his fellow people dressed, thank you very much.

Quietly John made his way to the window he was sure belonged to Aeon's chambers, he climbed through it and must have landed in the dressing room because he found himself (after falling through the window) on the floor with a half-naked very male Oracle standing in front of him.

"Okay, now I'm glad that you are Sherlock; this could have been very awkward if you were a woman." John had to smile at the thought of him breaking into a Greek woman's dressing room. But looking at Sherlock he didn't get the reaction he had hoped for.

"Who are you and why do you think you can enter my private rooms?" Sherlock didn't recognize him but he also didn't look too angry about the break-in. He sighed heavily before turning back to get dressed.

Thinking of it, it was nearly 15000 years ago that they had met and no one could be asked to remember every person you had ever met in all this time. "Sorry my mistake, I thought you would still remember me but it was a long time ago that we met, so never mind."

Sherlock now dressed in something close to what Molly had given him to wear but without the belt (pajamas?) turned and lifted an eyebrow. "We have met before? You could at least give me your name or is that something you usually do where you come from? You are clearly not from around here, I never met a person like you. Breaking in, not introducing yourself, talking to me as if we were friends." Sherlock still didn't sound angry.

"John, my name is John and I wanted to meet you Sherlock. Sorry about the break-in, but you left in a hurry so I had no chance to talk to you." Sherlock left the room with a look towards that clearly said 'follow me but don't touch a thing'.

"My name here is Aeon, it means eternity, and I would like you to call me that." John nodded as they sat at a table and Sherlock, no Aeon, started to read a few papers. "What do you want, I have to work?"

"Tell me about your work. What are you doing here, how can you tell people what to do, why are you here, are you hiding?" The questions came out like a rocket out of John's mouth, which earned him rolling eyes from Sherlock who laid down the papers for what looked like it would be a long conversation.

"My work here requires accurate knowledge about the world, economics, politics even rumors and suspicious thoughts from lower class people. I have seen my fair share of people and I can read their past, their wishes, hopes, fears and ambitions form their body language, clothes, way of talking and the look in their eyes. I combine the knowledge about the person with my knowledge about the world and give them the best possible answer they can hope for. But if they then succeed in their business lays in their own hands. I don't answer questions for war seeking idiots or power searching greedy people who would use the answer that I give them to start another war, another political game. I also don't answer wedding and matching questions. Its fine for me if people think the best way to spend their life is with someone who can offer them money, land or a secure financial future but don't expect me to send someone to a lifelong living in a loveless cage."

John listened closely. The man he had met yesterday was a lonely Stone Age man who had spent his years alone; the man he had met in the museum a long time ago looked at him in a certain way, emotion filled and dreaming. Both of them were not the man in front of him.

"I think I remember you. You are the strange creature that painted with me, you haven't aged a day; are you like me?" Hope grew in John's heart again. It was far more interesting to meet an immortal who could actually remember him.

"Yeah, that's me and believe me the painting will survive but I'm not like you, sorry to disappoint you." The confused look on Sherlock's face was cute but how could John explain something like time travel to him. "You better tell me why you are here and what the woman thing is about."

"Your language is kind of strange but to answer your question: I am here because I can help people, I have nothing better to do and I think the whole concept of gender is overrated. There is no difference between man and woman. I have had many identities over the years, some were male, others female, some were never defined. And as many identities I also had names. But tell me John: how did you find me? I tried to find you after you had visited my village."

John had to smile again; Sherlock must feel the connection between them too. But right now he had the feeling that he had already overdone his visit and he should go back to his ship. He had found Sherlock and found out why he was here. And he had got some answers. He wasn't supposed to spoil the future. Especially their future. But one thing was clear to John: he wanted to meet this man again and again, he wanted to see him through time and wanted to know everything about him. And to do that he had to find him again and again and again. "I followed a whisper about you. You left behind little traces and every time I will find one, I will visit you again."

It didn't sound too creepy or suspicious in John's ears but he got up anyway. "I will go now. It was nice to have a conversation with you that contained more than one word this time. See you around." And before Sherlock could stop him John was out of the window again, leaving this place behind. He knew that if had Sherlock asked him to stay, he would. So he left quickly before that could happen.

John took one of the fire torches and made his way back up the mountain. It was a bit dangerous in the dark and he needed until the first light of the day appeared to get to the ship, but he made it up safely. One question was still going through John's head: what was the point of all that? Why did Mycroft send him back in time to talk to an immortal? Sherlock was doing nothing that one could classify as being important.

'Present, London - 2010 '

Back in the present he waited until someone opened the door from the outside, he didn't want to get sick again so he concentrated on breathing and keeping his stomach content where it belonged. Thinking of it, he hadn't eaten in over a day and the rumbling in his stomach told him his body had received the same message.

John was greeted by Greg who helped him out of the ship and let him sit down, placing a tea (so British, he loved it) and a sandwich in front of him. He was allowed to eat before Molly very possessively took his clothes and he was dismissed for the day. His boss was in a meeting and John's report would be expected the next morning at 9.

AN: Where and when will John go in the next one. Hope you enjoyed his him im Greek.
Beautiful country by the way. Was there one duing summer holidays as I was twelve.
Preview for the next...
Chapter 3: The collectore