This 6 part story arch has been placed in the 'T' rating for a reason; please don't read if you are offended by the crude language or 'mild' adult themes later in the story. I have plenty of perfectly harmless stories elsewhere in these tales.

-oooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO Ooooooooooooooooooo-

Time and Tide

(Part One)

Baker Street, December 18th 1895

"What is it Holmes, you look rather concerned?"

"A telegraph from Mycroft, apparently he's leaving for Belgium in a week and wishes an audience with me at the Diogenes Club."

"Belgium? And during Christmas week! His club will be full of food, how bizarre! Here let me see, they've probably typed it all wrong at the Post Office. I'll wager it was meant to say he's 'living on beef for a week' or something of that sort."

He lifted the telegram from my view, "Watson, correspondence from one's sibling is entirely personal and moreover he writes in secret code, it will make no sense to you."

"You could at least let me try, here give me a tiny peek. Besides everyone knows there should be no secrets between a couple truly in love."

He responded to that by raising his eyebrows and carefully folding the paper, placing it firmly in his waistcoat pocket, then tapping it with emphasis.

I pretended to ignore the gesture, "You know, it's probably all just nothing but government poppycock. Perhaps your brothers going all that way to simply avoid being sociable at our wedding."

"Nonsense, you are only too aware that Mycroft has been the foremost champion of our nuptials. No, it's the Foreign Office again," he seemed lost in thought and I took the opportunity to gently move his legs off the settee and replace them with myself.

"Do you want him as best man, because I don't mind postponing the wedding for a bit." I was lying, I minded terribly. "Of course if he simply chooses to be elsewhere, we could save heaps on the catering."

His thoughts were already engaged elsewhere and he spoke in a distant fashion, almost as a whisper, "I rather wanted him to give you away, I shan't have you walking down the aisle alone."

"Gosh, that's rather kind of you Holmes."

"Practical, I need someone to ensure you don't turn up at entirely the wrong church Watson. Here hand me some paper will you."

"Like Fanny Robin in 'Far From the Madding Crowd'?" I learned behind the sofa, grabbed a sheet of foolscap from my desk, pushed the paper into his hands, then also pushed myself further upwards and into his arms. "We could still get lost you know. Then you will have to wait all alone at the alter, eventually abandoning the whole affair in anger and go off to find some rich heiress instead. I shall be left to wonder the streets, cold and starving and I'll give birth in Mrs Hudson's coal shed and die."

He gazed at me with a look of exasperation, "it's highly improbable that Mycroft will ever 'get lost' and you are certainly not pregnant Watson. Indeed you are both respectable and decent, unlike that twaddle Mr Hardy's writes. Why do people flock to buy his books?" He was now penning a reply to his brother.

"Because they're not respectable and decent, but they're a ripping read, besides you think all fiction is 'twaddle'." I ventured a stray hand across his shoulder, "if Mycroft's with me, who will stand with you?"

"Err-yes, well I am rather unsure on that one. I may have to ask Lestrade."

"Oh how marvellous, he'd be just wonderful! Imagine the speech, he's bound to say something magnificently improper."

"Humm, that postponement; I may have to take you up on it."

"Oh"

"Only a month or so, I can't possibly tie-the-not with all this business unsolved." He suddenly stood and shot to the door, allowing me to fall forwards against the pillows."

"Gosh, where are you off to in such a rush?" I detangled myself from the afghan cover, "what business and 'or so' is how long precisely?"

"The docks, I'm afraid an acquaintance of mine has been up to his old tricks again." He had pulled on his coat and started the daily hunt for his hat, how such a great mind could misplace a simple item so frequently bewildered me. "It's rather secret Watson, sorry old-girl. Forty days at the most, Mycroft won't stand to be parted from the Diogenes Club for any longer. I say Watson, have you seen my-"

"It's next to your left foot, behind my umbrella; we do have a hat-stand you know." I threw my hands into the air in frustration, "very well I'll postpone everything, it's not as though I've waited long enough already. You know, if you kissed me I may forget my heartbreaking disappointment."

He looked at me highly doubtful, "If I were to kiss you, will you leave me in peace about the matter?"

"I promise."

He kissed me lightly on the cheek, "there now behave and I'm afraid this may take some time, please don't wait up for me and cancel my breakfast."

Every warning alarm in my head went off simultaneously, I'd heard this one before, "no-no, NO you don't, I may never be your keeper Mr Sherlock Holmes, but I certainly intend to be your look-out. Now how long precisely and when should I start to worry? "

"I'll be gone for a day, perhaps two, no more." He practically flew out of the door and down the stairs."

I followed him and shouted "TWO DAYS!?"

… but he was already gone.

…

Another six-part story arch, this actually was meant to arrive on Christmas Day as a present, but I got the sickness bug taking over the UK and festered in my own misery for 3 days instead.

You would, (as always) be doing me a great honour AND sending me an extra-special Christmas treat if you left a note to say you just read my stuff… nothing more. I would LOVE to hear from the more out-of-the-way readers, frankly I get all excited about the traffic from far-away places around the world that sound so wonderful, like 'Brunei Darussalam' ( had to look that one up on Google )

I also treasure the USA and Europe hits too….and not forgetting Sweden, Canada, Australia and Philippines … WISHING YOU ALL A HAPPY NEW YEAR!

Tegan