You are all awesome! Thanks for your reviews. I'm sorry I've been so dreadful at responding, and at reading all of your stories. I've not been feeling so well. But hopefully this week I will catch up on that (and stay caught up on prompts-yeesh!).

My Sherlock Holmes consumption has been extremely varied in adaptations and sources lately... So my wires are all kinds of crossed. I don't know who I'm channelling in this chapter, but Watson is cranky and Holmes cracks me up.

Yesterday's prompt was from SheWhoScrawls: Holmes and Watson magically find themselves transported to Ancient Egypt. And we must've been sharing some serious brainwaves; I've got a similar prompt lined up for somebody later this month!

xxxxx

I awoke slowly, my head throbbing with such a furious ache that I wished at once to be unconscious again.

My eyes opened. My vision was fogged, but I dimly beheld a curious wooden roof leading to sandy walls. Nothing like Baker Street; nothing, indeed, like anything I had seen in a great many years.

Pain stabbed at my sides as I pushed myself to a sitting position, but I swallowed a groan.

My vision cleared and I blinked once.

Twice.

Sherlock Holmes sat before me; cross-legged, closed-eyed, and shirtless.

He was wearing a white loincloth-I wondered how he meant to survive the cold, then realized that it was sweltering in this strange mud dwelling.

I wiped my brow and scowled.

"Holmes!"

He quirked one eyebrow and opened one eye, briefly, then closed it again.

"I see you've finally decided to grace the world with your subtle and refined presence."

"My-What the devil is going on?" I got to my feet, swaying on the spot. I grabbed the back of a wooden chair, steadying myself. "Where are we?"

"You cannot tell?" Holmes's fists were pressed together in a meditative pose, his face blank once again.

Irritation flared along with my headache. I took a breath, tamping it down and uncurling my fists. My chest loosened. "No, Holmes, I cannot."

Holmes jerked his head to the side. "Look out the window."

I limped to the large, square window and leaned out. The sun was blinding, glinting off sand. Below us, the streets were bustling, stalls filling the corners. Carts and animals plodded through the crowds, and far in the distance I caught a glimpse of a tall, gleaming pyramid.

"Egypt?" I breathed, my fingers digging into the mud bricks.

"Indeed." Holmes didn't move. "Ancient Egypt, to be precise. By my estimates, we have found ourselves sometime after the year 1400 BC."

I sat heavily on the floor before him, staring blankly ahead.

Such a discovery ought to have rendered me useless for some time, but after so many adventures with Holmes, I suppose I had become accustomed to the unexpected.

"How?" I asked, after a moment. "The last I recall we were-"

"Having tea with Octavian Flaversham, yes." Holmes twitched. "I suspected the man to be a time traveler from the moment we met him. His flamboyant name was clearly an alibi."

I pinched the bridge of my nose. "And you didn't think to include me in your suspicions?"

Holmes's eyes opened properly for the first time. His shoulders curled forward, a hint of sheepishness in his gaze. "I thought about it. In this instance, I wished to have concrete evidence to present with my case. Even for me, it was a difficult concept to grasp."

"How considerate of you." I looked him over. "You've acclimated well."

"Oh, yes." Holmes smiled, catlike. "Charming people, the Ancient Egyptians. Clever. Very concerned with cleanliness. They believed us to be heathens, or perhaps Canaanites, dressed as we were. The family who lives here remedied our situation posthaste."

For the first time, I noticed that I was dressed in a flowing white tunic. My cheeks flushed. "Who-"

"Do not ask, dear fellow," Holmes advised. "Your peace of mind will thank you."

I shook my head to clear it. "If... you say so. What have you discovered?"

"Flaversham is nowhere to be found, though a lovely young lady who sold me those flowers-" he indicated a vase of blue lilies, "has seen a man who matches his description. The family here are called Bek and Iset, they have a daughter named Tabiry. They have agreed to let us stay here us for the time being. We have acquired temporary jobs as housekeepers in the inn down the street-"

"You?" I laughed. "A housekeeper? You can't even keep the kitchen table clean!"

"I can be tidy when I desire," Holmes replied haughtily. "Do not interrupt."

"Oh, by all means," I waved him onward, "continue."

Holmes sniffed and went on. "We are fortunate to have arrived in a fairly peaceful dynasty. If we maintain a degree of covertness, we ought to remain more or less unmolested until we either locate Flaversham, or the effects of his time manipulation wear off."

"What makes you think it will wear off?"

"The journal I... appropriated from Flaversham implied that he has been, thus far, unable to stabilize the effects." Holmes glanced outside. "I do not believe we will be here longer than a few weeks."

I rested my head in my hand, shoulders slumping. "Well, I suppose it's fortunate you've secured positions for us. How long did it take you? Was I unconscious for hours? Days?"

Holmes's eyebrow arched again. "Not at all. You were asleep for perhaps thirty minutes."

"You did all that in half an hour?" I scoffed. "I find that rather hard to believe."

Holmes bristled. "Just because-"

The door swung open and a young man came in, regarding me with curiosity and concern.

He asked a question.

Holmes gesticulated wildly and the man responded in kind. I stared, awestruck, as the two of them communicated an entire conversation in manically enthusiastic, silent gestures.

Holmes nearly struck me in the face with one large sweep.

When at last their meaning was understood, Holmes took me by the arm. "Come, Watson. It's time for supper. We're having lentils and roast crane."

"Watson," the young man greeted with a beaming smile, his accent thick but pleasant.

As we started down a ramp to the ground floor, I surrendered myself to a few weeks in Ancient Egypt. And as they said, when in Rome...

I sighed. "Hello, Bek."