Edit: So I have lots of ideas for this next arc, unfortunately they are going to require a trip to the library and a serious internet search for information of the medical, social, cultural and architectural type. And then after I spend, you know, 10 hours writing it all, it will be read in five minutes. *headdesk* It's the life of the 221b ficlet writer I suppose.

I have been doing serious thoughts about how to go about these little ones, and I realize that to write them I must have trust in the reader. I have to choose forceful, concrete, descriptive words and set them up to trigger your own mental images, trusting that even if everyone takes the building blocks and creates something unique for themselves, it will still be the basic blueprint I had in mind. It's a shaky step to have something you want to say, but since you don't have enough words you must set the spring and hope the reader will put forth the effort to let the beautiful images explode out into the imagination.

Sooo...philosophy aside, I have a handful of half-finished little ones so the plan A is this--research a lot and hope to get a filler story up a week, and after this arc is finished we'll see how it goes.

I really am insane, aren't I? Oh well.

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This picks up after the last chapter; get ready for some grit. I'm seriously going out on a limb to add historical accuracy, so any suggestions/critiques will be accepted with a blush of incompetence. Onward, onward! We must always strive…excelsior!! Oh and the research I've done so far was at VictorianLondon dot org. If I do research other places I'll add those names.

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"Ah, Watson, you're back! Do just glance at this experiment?"

"Can't, Holmes," he replied in a strained voice, heading for the cupboard where he kept spare medical supplies. "Don't have time."

"Oh, well…" I sighed and dipped my pen. "What's the address you've got there?"

Instead of starting, he cracked open his medical bag and began to fill it with varying bottles. "It belongs to a dwelling in the poorer area, and I must go there now."

"You didn't eat lunch."

"I'm quite aware of that, Holmes." Watson snapped his bag shut harder than usual. "I was hoping to get some sleep tonight, but…I've received a special request to treat a child with scarlet fever." He paused. "It's…it's one of those…" a shudder rippled through him. "Seems the other child died suddenly from the same ailment, and they still haven't buried the body. Been…two weeks."

"Oh God no," I whispered, dropping my pen. "Why, Watson? Why?"

"Can't pay for a funeral, don't believe in keeping the body in a coffin before burial…all different, all the same." He slumped against the wall, finally meeting my eyes. When he spoke his voice was an agonized whisper. "Holmes…please come with me."

I turned down the heat on the chemicals and went to his side. "Of course," I murmured.

This was going to be bad.

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A/N: Oh you better believe it, Holmes! Alas I must now turn my time to packing and finishing up my NaNo (five days left!!) so it'll be Sunday or Monday when the next chapter is up. I appreciate all the reviews so far, really guys, THANK YOU!! If I hadn't gotten reviews it's likely I'd have canceled this, or at least taken down what I had posted so far.

Oh, and I'm really sorry if I offend people with the one part in this chapter where, I don't know whether to call it swearing or what. I struggled with how to write that part, but this was the way it happened most naturally. If you think am wrong to write that, please tell me. I don't always know what is exactly the right thing! And I am a Christian so I want to do the right thing when I can. *nod*