Nice to know people are reading. Again, apologisies for my lack of writing skills. Just pretend it's written better. Anyway, enjoy.... I hope

The rest of this will be a recount of the events that occurred about the time of the diary entry. Please bear in mind that the events to which I am referring are not those of the case, but to those, which occur between Holmes and myself.

Exclusion

It was a Monday, the start of a new week, and already I could hear Holmes moving about so I promptly got ready for the day ahead.

Upon reaching the sitting room, I found Holmes sitting in his chair, waiting. Not for me, no, someone else as made evident by Holmes' disinterest in me.

"Good morning, Holmes." I said, taking a seat opposite him in my own chair, eyeing a letter in his hands.

"Good morning, Watson." He replied, looking up from the letter. "It arrived only a few minutes ago. We shall be expecting a guest soon."

I took the piece of paper as he handed it to me, noticing the messy, rushed hand in which the letter was written. I read over it quickly. It was in the hand of a woman who was in a hurry to finish the letter. Splotches of ink and small rips decorating the page further added to the allusion of a hurried letter. The content was congruent.

"So what do you think, Watson?" said Holmes as I looked up after finishing the letter.

I refrained from expressing my alarm and discomfort of the letter. "It was obviously rushed, as anyone could see without reading the content. According to what was written it would seem that someone was after her, an angry husband perhaps due to the use of such casual terms. And there is an implication that she will be visiting us soon in an attempt to seek some sort of protection. Though I'm unsure as to what protection we could possibly offer." It was a stupid remark, that last one, but I'd let it slip anyway.

"Good observations, though this letter leaves little to the imagination. Though protection?" said Holmes as he raised a brow. "Perhaps, but perhaps not. Instead of protection she may be seeking some way of stopping or finding this person?"

I had prepared myself for some long talk on my sloppiness but that was all I received, and I was truly thankful for it. "Holmes," I sighed, "my mind is not as quick these days I fear. I apologise."

He smiled at me as he lit his pipe, which I was surprised he hadn't already done. "I am being lenient today, as I think I shall work on this case alone. This one appears simple, and you've been quite busy with your practice lately, have you not?"

I felt quite hurt hearing those words. But once Holmes had made up his mind, nothing more could be said on the matter. "I see." I stood, handing the letter back to my friend. "My presence shall not be needed then." I then left the room to fetch my jacket, leaving the house after.

I wasn't sure what to think. Holmes had said he didn't need me on the case. Not that he ever did, so it would mean he didn't want me on the case, he did not want me working with him. But I couldn't figure out why it hurt me so much.

I walked the streets of London, pondering why Holmes didn't want me on the case, and why I'd been so angry with this. Why had I acted that way? I dare say, though, that many must have seen me as a mad man, travelling the streets aimlessly, frowning, and possibly muttering obscenities to myself. What a sight indeed!

Eventually I came to a park, which I'd frequented often during my times of confusion, stress or doubt. Often I'd find the peace of mind necessary to overcome whatever it was that was hindering me at the time, but somehow I doubted I would this time. The hours passed and I was still there, still confused. Seldom did I leave the park without resolving the issue at hand.

Needless to say I did not return to our house on Baker Street for a long while.

It was rather late when I finally returned to Baker Street. Holmes was, as always, in his study smoking away as he read, worked, thought or hypothesised. I did not disturb him, knowing the moods it would set him in if I were to. Instead I went to my room and went straight to bed. It wasn't until morning that I realised I hadn't eaten that day. Had Holmes' dismissal really have that much effect on me? Obviously it did.

The next morning I found myself up early once again, partly due to the fact that I'd not eaten the previous day and my stomach was now protesting, and partly because I'd had trouble sleeping during the night.

So, exhausted, I got up and readied myself for the day before leaving my room to eat breakfast. Funnily enough, though, I wasn't feeling hungry by the time I reached the kitchen. Even so I had to eat something. I ended up with a piece of bread, fresh from the bakery near the house, with a light spread of jam on the top.

As I sat in my chair in the living room to eat it, with a cup of tea of course, Holmes entered the room in his usual way, confidently, arrogantly, without care as to who was in the room. However when his eyes found me already in the room he slowed his pace and eventually stopped about half way to his chair.

"Good morning, Watson." He said softly, as if unsure of himself. It was strange to hear.

"Good morning to you too, Holmes." I managed. The anger that I'd felt yesterday had subsided, but since then, during the night it had been replace by confusion and insecurity towards Holmes. I didn't know what else to say, except: "Will you be joining me for breakfast?"

As usual, though, he gave no response as to whether or not he'd be eating breakfast, but rather sat in his chair and just looked at me for a long while before talking. "Watson, I wanted to apologise for my decision, but I believe it's for the best this time. Do you understand?"

I nodded. "I trust your decision and won't question it." I didn't pry any further on the subject, nor about his breakfast.

I'll post the next one when I feel anough people are reading. I didn't with the first chapte because there was like only 500 words or something.