A/N: Hello again! Sorry this took longer than I thought it would. Therefore I won't keep you waiting any longer.

Begin phase three! *Evil Laughter*

It was midday by the time I had found my bearings again. It was strange. I had lived most of my life in that city and yet so many places in London were completely foreign to me, or had changed so drastically in recent years that I could no longer recognise them. Holmes had often lamented since his retirement that this London was no longer his London, and I was beginning to question whether it was still mine. I may as well have been in Constantinople for all I knew. It was also difficult to ask anyone for directions, most people taking my unusual mode of dress and flustered manner as a sign of an unstable mind. I had thought to ask Morris but naturally I was a little wary of the child and his allegiances. While I doubted that he would lead me astray again, I decided not to chance it. There was no telling how much Holmes had influenced the boy.

I eventually stumbled across a familiar street and was able make my way from there. By this time, however, I became increasing paranoid of the people around me. Everywhere I looked I thought I saw a potential minion of Holmes. Every cab-driver, every stall vendor, every woman and every child was possibly in his employ. I avoided everyone's gaze and took the most direct route to my destination, going as fast as I dare without arousing attention. I now knew that there was no level to which Holmes wouldn't stoop to prevent me from re-enlisting. So this how it felt for all those criminals he pursed over his career. No wonder he was notorious among London's underbelly. I would sooner be hunted by the hounds of hell. I steeled my nerve and continued onward.

I was only two streets away from the recruitment office when I heard a scream. I turned to look in the direction. On the corner, up the other end of the street, a crowd was gathering. I saw a young man dash from the scene and head in my direction. Every fibre of my being was pleading with me not to get involved, that it was another of Holmes' elaborate distractions, and yet I couldn't stop myself from halting the young man in his tracks.

'What the devil is going on up there?' I asked him, not wasting time on civility. The man did likewise in turn.

'There is a great bear of a man beating a woman senseless up there.' he gasped. 'His wife I think. He claims she has been unfaithful and he is going to make her pay. I'm going to find a constable. He'll kill her if no one intervenes.'

The man pushed me aside and dashed away. I let him. The screams grew louder and more desperate from the direction of the corner. Was no one going to help this woman? Half my mind was certain this was connected to Holmes in some way, but the other half insisted I wouldn't feel easy until I had put my mind to rest. I made my way to the corner and bustled my way through the throng of gawking spectators. The scene was definitely something to behold.

The man who had gone for help wasn't lying when he described the attacker as a bear. Mattered hair and beard, broad shoulders and height of at least six feet four inches; there was little other comparison to be made. Yet what struck me was the snarl upon his lips and the fury that burned within his eyes. It was these that made him truly beast-like. The brute was grasping a woman by the hair and pulling her face up to meet his own. This face would have been attractive if it was not contorted with fear and pain, as she tried franticly to get free of his grasp. On the side of her head, just above the temple, I could see a patch of blood spreading through her fair hair.

I did not think nor hesitate. My fist stuck the side of the attacker's head. The blow had little more effect than a mosquito bite. The man span around, threw the woman to the ground and turned his attentions upon me.

'Oi! What do you think you're doing?' he growled, like a tiger that had just been prodded with a sharp stick.

'Leave the woman alone.' I tried to keep my voice as even as possible. Now that I was close I could tell the man was easily six foot seven.

'This had nothing to do with you. Now clear off and let me deal with my misses in peace.'

I was suddenly aware of all the eyes burrowing into me. The crowd looked on like the audience at a circus. Was no one else willing to help this poor woman?

'I will do no such thing.' I said. The man loomed over me. I was wrong before. He was unquestionably six foot nine.

'This is your last chance. Go back to your comfy little home and stop sticking your nose in where it doesn't belong.'

'Please.' This came from the woman who was still lying prone on the pavement. She looked up at me with blood-shot eyes. 'Just do what he says. It'll be worse if he...'

'You just shut it!' the man bellowed at his wife before ploughing his foot into her side. Before I could stop myself my fist planted itself into his stomach. The man snarled and swung at me wildly like a man possessed. I managed to dodge his blows and hit him in the side again. He swiped at me with his giant paw, knocking me off my feet. I just managed to roll out of the way before he crushed my face with his foot. I heard the woman gasp in fright. I swiped my leg out, catching his feet out from under him. He fell to earth with an almighty thud. I waited, panting. He didn't stand up again.

I slowly rose to my feet and headed towards the injured lady. He sat where she had fell, staring at where her husband lay.

'Is he...' she asked. 'Is he going to be alright?'

I shook my head. I had seem this type of woman far too many times before. By tomorrow evening they would probably be back in each other's embraces as though this whole incident was just another lovers tiff. 'He'll live.' I muttered. 'Let me have a look at you.'

Gently as I could I tilted the woman's head to the right. The blood hadn't spread any further which suggested she wasn't still bleeding. That was a good sign. Yet there should have been a lot more if it and stranger still I couldn't find the laceration... Realisation dawned upon me. I drew my bloody fingers to my nose and gave it a sniff. It was just as I suspected. Ink. Red Ink.

'Holmes?' I asked. The woman smiled.

'Aw, what gave it away?'

'Should I have gone a little harder on you, Doctor?' asked a voice from behind. The beast-man had propped himself on one elbow and had a mischievous glint in his eyes, like a schoolboy who had just pulled a prank on his teacher. I rose to my feet.

'I should have realised a man your size wouldn't have gone down so easily.' I tried to sound as nonchalant as possible but inside I was raging. Hiding my possessions and having an irregular pick my pocket was one thing but making me believe that a woman's life was in danger was far too much. I dusted myself off and tried to muster as much of my remaining dignity as I could. 'I assume he gave one of you a letter.'

'You would assume right, Doctor Watson.' said the woman. She retrieved the letter from somewhere within her skirts and passed it to me. The confused crowd of people had not dissipated, and more than one person attempted to read the message over my shoulder.

My Dear Watson

Doesn't this send your mind back to the Adler case? Such fond reminiscences. I knew you would never be able to resist coming to the aid of a lady in danger. I hope you didn't hit Bert too hard. We used to be sparring partners in the ring, but I think we would both admit we've seen better days. The lovely Cassandra I know from the theatre and I am sure she played the part of the damsel in distress to a tee. In fact I was the one who originally introduced Bert and Cassandra to each other. Would you believe they have been happily married for nearly twenty five years? And you accuse me of not having a romantic bone in my body. Ah, but we'll have plenty of time to reflect upon bygone years when I return tonight. You've put up a valiant effort my friend. I expected nothing less.

Regards

Holmes

I finished the letter and looked back at the couple who had spent the time I'd taken to read my message to complement each other on their acting ability and reassure one another that they were unhurt. This affectionate scene was so at odds with the one I had witnessed only five minutes ago that I couldn't help but start at the contrast.

'Did Holmes give either of you any information about his other plans?' I asked. Cassandra looked perplexed.

'Other plans? We thought that this was meant to be some sort of elaborate practical joke. I didn't realise there were other plans.'

'Truth be told, Doctor,' said Bert the benevolent bear-man, 'we rightly don't know why Holmes wanted us to do this little piece of theatre for you. All he told us is that he would be very grateful if we did.' He looked down as his wife. 'We figured we owed him.'

I sighed. Why did all of Holmes co-conspirators have to be so infernally pleasant? 'I see. Well you both played your parts admirably. I was quite taken in. Now if you would excuse me...' I was about to make my exit when Cassandra grasped my shoulder.

'Doctor Watson, I apologies.' she said. 'We've obviously let this get a little out-of-hand. By way of an apology would you like to come back to our house for lunch? I have beef left over from last night's roast and you don't look like you've eaten all day.'

I wished the woman hadn't said that. I had been completely unaware of how hungry I was until she pointed it out to me. My stomach gave a traitorous growl and I was very tempted to accept her offer. But I would have been a fool if I hadn't learnt something my experiences earlier that day.

'Holmes asked you to invite me to lunch, didn't he?'

'Oh well.' said Cassandra taking Bert's hand. 'I can't say I didn't try.'

Holmes! I would like to point out that Watson totally knew that The Great Detective was up to something. Maybe Holmes is slipping in his old age? Well he's going to have to come up with something effective soon because in the next chapter our dear Watson reaches the Recruitment Office...