Chapter 10: The architect of Notre-Dame de Paris

'Present, London - 2010'

John arrived earlier than usual in the morning, hoping that meant that he would have time to get himself a coffee at the shop next door to his office, but he was surprised by what he saw when he arrived. The street in front of the cafe was crowded., John recognized a familiar silver haired man next to a blond woman. It was Greg and Molly.

"Good morning. Did something happen?" Greg turned and nodded, before Molly answered.

"They found a bomb in the mail, and there was another found in the service area." She sounded a bit frightened.

Don't worry, the bombs will be removed and we'll be able to return to work soon." Greg said convincingly. All of a sudden, the sound of the three mobiles going off at the same time got their attention. Return for a new assignment in two hours. Breakfast is on the office's bill. MH'

"That sounds good to me. We could go to the café around the corner." Greg suggested after he read the message from Mycroft. Together they walked through the crowd and entered a nice looking café that John wasn't familiar with. It didn't surprise him that he didn't know this place. He could tell you where to get illegal firearms in Kabul, or where to find non-traceable poison in Mexico City, but the knowledge of where to have a drink in London was information that he hadn't needed until today.

As they walked, John's mind wandered. He wondered if he had only gotten this job because he'd met Sherlock as a child, or had Sherlock met him in the Museum because the man knew he was going to be there? Thinking about the conundrum made John's head hurt, so he pushed those thoughts away. At least having this job meant that he wasn't lonely anymore.

His old job had required him to be a lone wolf, but now he had someone he could go to the pub with, someone that would catch a movie with him. Or, he could visit Mrs. Hudson for afternoon tea. John liked that he had a job with colleagues who wouldn't kill or betray him at any moment. And, of course, there was Sherlock. But John still wasn't sure what the man's role was in his life.

The three of them sat at the table next to the window and ordered their second breakfast and coffee. "Two hours. It's a shame. If we'd gotten that message a bit earlier, I could've had a lie in."

"At least you're not alone, and we can have a nice breakfast together. We don't get the chance to converse outside of work very often." Molly smiled shyly. "Thanks again for the flower John, it's really pretty."

"What flower?" Greg asked John.

"Sherlock gave me a flower to give to Molly, after I told him that some of my comments about her clothing had been misunderstood, and my lack of knowledge didn´t help my case. He wanted to make sure I had a chance to get on her good side again." Greg looked amazed.

"A nice guy, your Sherlock." Greg said. "Mycroft let you keep something from the past?"

John nodded. "He must have been in a good mood yesterday."

"He was." Molly replied. "You know, he accepts every outfit I make for you, without even looking at how much it costs." John lifted his eyebrows at that statement.

"Oh John, I wish you were a woman. The dresses I could make for you would be so beautiful."

John and Greg shared a look at that. Suddenly John was quite happy to be a man. He didn't want to play dress up, not even for her.

"I wanted to ask you something, Greg." John said. "You know yesterday, when we had the conversation about God, the church and religion?" Greg nodded.

"You suddenly looked very sad, and I wanted to make sure that it wasn't anything I said." John was trying to take Sherlock's advice. He wanted to make sure Greg was OK. If the church was something that Greg didn't want to talk about, then John wouldn't mention it any more.

"Yeah. It made me think about my dad. He died a year ago, and it felt as fresh as the day it happened, when we were talking about him."

"I'm sorry to hear that Greg."

"Me too."

"Don't be." Greg replied. "He'd come to terms with it at the end. Cancer."

They both nodded. "Let's talk about something else. What's going on in your love life?"

Both Molly and John stared at him for a moment before Molly answered. "I'm single and don't plan to change that. I love my work, so someone very special would have to come along to change that." She said.

"What about you, John?"

"I've been single for ages. My last job didn't give me much time to date." He wasn't really sad about it. Of course had he dated before, and had had a few one night stands, but none of them had been anything special.

"Greg has a crush on someone you know, Molly." Since the older man had brought up the topic, John thought it was his duty to tease him a bit.

"Who is it? Not Donovan. Please don't date her. She's horrible most of the time." Molly sounded quite concerned.

"God, No." Greg replied. "John why did you say that?"

"You brought it up, and you didn't deny it. In the pub, you said he was a nice guy."

John looked over at Molly. "It's our boss, Mycroft." Her eyes went huge and she looked over to Greg, who hid his very red face in his hands.

"You don't have to be ashamed. It's fine that he's your type. He isn't mine. So that means we won't have to fight over the same guy." Molly winked at him.

She figured she should give the poor guy a respite, and that it was Johns turn. "So, John. What's going on with you and Sherlock?"

John coughed up the coffee he'd been drinking. "What? Nothing... I don't know, okay?" The other two waited silently for him to continue.

"We definitely aren't dating. Dating hadn't even been invented when we first met. And he's my asset, he's part of my job. I can't be in love with him. Okay, can we change the subject now?"

"Sure John." The table got quiet as a question came to John's mind.

"I want to get him something, but I'm not sure what to get. I'd like for it to be something so when ... I mean if... he misses me, he has something to remember me by."

"I'm not sure you should." Greg said, seriously. "Whatever you choose to give him could change the past, which would alter the present."

Sadly, John knew Greg was right.

"You're probably right, but if John wants to give him something, maybe we should give him a chance." Molly said. "Let's figure out what you can get for him, and if it won't alter time, then I will hide it inside your clothes." Molly looked proud of taking the initiative.

"Really? Thank you Molly."

"I'll just pretend I didn't hear any of that." Greg said. Both Molly and John grinned at him.

"Oh god, when Mycroft finds out, he's going to kill us all. Alright let's go. It's time for work." The two hours, which had been filled with friendly conversation and chances to learn more about each other was already over. It was time to go back to the office.

When they returned to work, they found new security personal lurking around, and discovered that the security system had been updated. There were more cameras, and fingerprint scanners had been installed. It all looked a bit overwhelming. The metal detector seemed like a bit too much. "I guess Mycroft has his fingers in this." John commented as he took off his clothes to change into his new outfit.

"At least we're sure he's concerned about our safety." Molly said, as she gave him the a hat, the last piece of his ensemble.

"What am I today, Molly? I thought there wasn't much color in their clothes in the medieval age? I looked it up on the internet, and it said that they mostly wore shades of brown." John was proud that he'd researched clothing for her.

Molly smiled. "You' are a merchant. They made enough money to buy colored clothes. You should be fine wearing blue."

"Thanks Molly." John walked over to Mycroft who was looking at a set of blueprints that covered the table.

"Mr. Watson, these are the blueprints of Notre-Dame de Paris, one of the most beautiful churches in the world, and built in the gothic style. I want you to compare these plans to the ones that you will ask Sherlock for. He's apparently the architect that constructed and built the church. I would like to know if there are differences between his plans and the building that we see today." John nodded., It was a simple request. He studied the blueprints for another twenty minutes, memorizing the important numbers so he could compare them with Sherlock´s plans. He smiled as he thought about how he had sent Sherlock out to do something great. This wasn't what John had had in mind, but it was definitely something great.

'~1182 AD, Paris, France'

John exited HOPE in a small alley. When the door closed, the time machine suddenly changed to look like a wooden barrel. He stepped out of the alley and found himself in the middle of Paris, over eight hundred years after his last visit.

He waited for the right moment to disappear into the crowd. With as many people as there were around, it was easy to hide in plain sight. John didn't know his way around,.so he let the crowd carry him where they would. It didn't take long for him to spot a large, half open area. He remembered that the cathedral was on a hill, so he knew by the lay of the land that he had chosen the right direction. The construction side was breath takingly distracting, but John knew that he had to find Sherlock somewhere in this busy place. What if he isn't here today? John thought to himself. He knew he had to ignore that line of thought and pushed it to the back of his mind. Without any further hesitation, he walked towards the people who were building one of the most beautiful landmarks in the entire city.

John walked around the area. He knew that he couldn't ask for Sherlock directly because he might be living under a different name. It took him half an hour before he realized he could just ask for the architect. He asked the closest worker to him.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the architect. Could you tell me where he is, please?." John asked the man

The worker didn't say anything, he just pointed in the direction of a part of the church that looked finished.

"Thank you." John replied.

John found his way inside, noticing the lack of safety measures. Finally, he laid eyes on a busy Sherlock, who was watching over the construction. John walked up behind him as quietly as he could, but Sherlock heard him. He turned and smiled.

"You know I can feel that you're coming, somehow. There's a change in the air." He turned back towards the church and spread his arms out, to shows John his masterpiece.

"Welcome to Notre Dame de Paris, she'll be a beauty when I'm finished with her."

John had seen the completed Notre Dame. He knew it was going to end up being one of the most beautiful buildings in the world.

"She's great." He couldn't tell Sherlock that the cathedral will survive for centuries, or that he had visited her once, enjoying its timeless beauty. There's nothing that John could say that would prepare Sherlock for how amazing it would become. "When I told you to do something great you really went all out and made it huge, am I right?"

"You said it would be easier to find me, and honestly what else can you do when the church pervades every part of people's' lives? So here I am, the architect of this cathedral. Let me show you around. I know there isn't much to see yet, but it's coming along." Sherlock tugged at John´s hand and led him towards the middle of the building.

"The chapel is already finished. There will be a couple of priests arriving today to sanctify it. We've had already two funerals inside. I am not a fan of having people buried on a construction site, but no one listens to the architect. The main chapel will be the best part. The new gothic style gives the whole building much more character and life. When I first saw the style, it totally fascinated me- the light, the heights, the possibilities."

Sherlock was beaming, there was so much excitement in his voice. A few of the workers stopped what they were doing to listen to him, intrigued by his infectious excitement. John doubted that this was the first time the architect was showing off his work to someone.

"The supporting arches make it easier to build higher, which gives the impression of reaching for the sky. It's the same for the lead lights. The huge windows brighten up the room, they fill it with light and let the sun shine on top of the believers' heads. Look here."

Sherlock pointed up at the gateway between two columns. "The lancet arch also gives the impression of something that is moving toward heaven."

John was more than impressed. He'd seen the finished cathedral, and as Sherlock spoke he could see it again. "How long will it take you to build it?"

"Maybe another hundred years, perhaps longer, but of course I won't be able to watch over the whole construction. You know that I don't age, and someday the people around me will notice. I don't want them to… react badly." John sensed that he should change the subject, so he moved back towards his original mission.

"Would you let me see the blueprints?" John asked. Sherlock looked a bit confused, but before he could tell John that he didn't understand, John continued. "You have the plans for this building, right? I'd like to see them. If you could let me, please."

"Of course. Follow me, they're in my bag., I wanted to show them to you, anyway. I always thought the word blueprints was interesting, but not really telling."

John didn't comment, he just followed the man. Sherlock´s bag was laying next to a building, under the window. The door was open and there were a few people lingering around, walking in and out. They all seemed to know Sherlock, giving him little nods and exchanging greetings. With the bag in his hand, he entered the house, and John followed.

"Where are we?" John asked curiously. As he stepped inside, he saw that it was some kind of meeting room for the people in charge, not Sherlock's home.

Sherlock rolled out the plans for the cathedral on the table, and let John have a look.

The plans looked much different than the ones John had been given. There were some parts of the church that were larger or smaller, and part of a whole building was missing, but John knew that there had been quite a few changes made over the years. It was unlikely that Sherlock had ordered them all. Many people had had a hand in the construction. John thought that maybe the some of the differences were because Sherlock would have will leave soon.

John had to wonder how many years would pass before they would meet again?

John started to think about ideas for what to give Sherlock. It needed to be rugged, something that could withstand the test of time, or at least something that would last for a while. It also needed to have s meaning for both him and Sherlock. But he still had absolutely no idea at all what to give him. Sighing, he returned to the plans and tried to pick out the differences in the blueprints between where he was and the present.

"Monsieur Ciel, we were looking for you. I thought we would meet at the chapel." A group of men came in. Their clothes told John that they were from the church. John knew that iIt was time for him to leave.

Sherlock's attention was on the man in red in front of him, but he heard John´s whispered words of farewell. "You did a great job. That's a nice name by the way. Ciel means sky, right? I like it." Without another word, he left Sherlock to his work so he could return to the present.

Finding HOPE was a bit tricky. John first walked into the wrong alley, then he had to choose between two barrels. Of course he chose the wrong one. When he was finally back in his seat, he pushed the button to take him back home, and sadly, way from Sherlock.

'Present, London - 2010 '

Greg waited to speak to Mycroft until after John had left the building, and the two of them were alone. "Mr. Holmes, you can't send him to the next place. It's too dangerous." John was his friend and he wouldn't let him go somewhere he could get hurt.

Mycroft looked at his employee. "That's not part of your job description. John Watson will be leaving tomorrow morning, like always, and there is nothing you can say to stop it." He turned away from Greg, knowing full well what could happen to his agent.

A hand on his arm pulled him back. "Mycroft, please." Greg's pleading words cut through the oppressive silence of the room.

"I'm sorry Gregory but he has to be there. Without him, Sherlock could lose his way. Please understand." Greg could tell it was the truth, but that didn't mean that he had to like it. Without another word the two men left the building, heading home to their empty flats.

Blog of J. H. Watson

I haven't written anything since the blog about my dream. I had a really shitty week without S. but it got a bit better when I was finally able to meet him again. He was sad because he'd a fight with someone who wasn't his friend anymore. S. is a bit too focus on staying with someone, it's like he's looking for one special person, but can't find them. It made me want to tell him to do something he probably hadn't thought of.

So I met S. again today. I had previously told him to go out and do something great. It was easier to find him when he was, getting attention from people. S. made something great. In fact,it was more than great, it's beautiful, brilliant and fantastic. But I couldn't tell him that his work would be perfect, and that I loved it and that he should be proud of it.

I hope he had a great time with his project, and I'd really like to meet him again at the same place when it's finished. I believe he'll do great. He always gives 100 %, and that's all that matters in the end.

I guess that's about it. I'm still not sure why I'm writing this, but sometimes it feels good to put the words out there for everyone to see, even when no one knows what I'm talking about.

Good night. I still have work to finish.

John saved his blog entry and uploaded it. He hadn't really thought about it, but it felt cathartic to write in his blog. He really wished he could tell Sherlock about the beauty of his cathedral. Before he could close the internet browser, a message arrived.

Dear J. ,

Giving 100 % doesn't ensure that the product will be good in the end.

From Violinist_NumberB

John was surprised and happy to get his first comment so quickly, and , he tried to find the right words to respond.

Dear Violinist_NumberB,

You're right, it doesn't, but if you do your best, you've done everything in your power that you could, and the outcome, whatever it might be, is the best you can get.

From J.

John wondered if that would be a good enough response for the person behind the name Violinist_NumberB. Before John could continue that line of thought, another message arrived.

Dear J. ,

But what if you can't give 100 % anymore because you tried too long and you're tired? Is it okay to wait for someone, even if you don't know when you will see this person again?

From Violinist_NumberB

Was it okay to wait? As John thought about it, Sherlock came suddenly to his mind. He had lived so many lives, both good and bad. But through it all, he hadn't given up. Yes he had gotten upset, angry, and destructive, but he continued his journey, met new people, lived new lives He lost friends to time, but he never gave up. You still try.

Dear Violinist_NumberB,

Waiting is okay as long as you don't give up. When you give up. you'll never find or be found by the person you're waiting for.

From J.

Hopefully he could help this person, it sounded like they were in a dark place.

Dear J. ,

I will keep on going and waiting as long as the other person is still looking for me. I'm certain I'll be found. Thank you for the talk, and good night.

From Violinist_NumberB

John couldn't let it end like that. He didn't want to stop talking to this person.

Dear Violinist_NumberB,

I hope I helped. Please don't hesitate to write back. Good night.

From J.

John waited for another ten minutes before he closed the his browser down. There had been no new messages from Violinist_NumberB. John hadn't thought there were people who wanted to read his blog and comment on it. It gave him the confidence to think that maybe he could write more.

He returned to his report and finished it before he settled down with a beer and an old Bond movie. The weather outside matchied the mood of the movie- rainy and dark.

Sherlock closed his laptop. He was glad he'd finally written something, and t that he hadn't given away his identity. There were still so many days to come, still so many journeys. He had a feeling that the next one wouldn't be pleasant,. for either of them.

How would he cover up his interference? Sherlock wondered. He shook his head and stood up.

Only the light from the street brightened the dark hour. The world was silent. He felt like he would never see his friend again. Sherlock laid his hands on his chest.

The metal under his shirt was cold. It hadn't stopped him from doing bad things, or thinking about ending everything, but it had kept a piece of him alive that belonged to John. It was the hope of a life together.

His violin seemed to call to him, and he heeded it. Sherlock started to fill the silent night with a sad melody that fought with the rain and the darkness for attention.

AN: The next one will be a bit different:
Chapter 11: Provence, not a safe place for the witch