A/N: Do not panic, I know this chapter is short but I have finished the next chapter of Holmes and it should be up in a day or so. It was the Watson chapter after Holmes that was giving me a headache. But he finally spoke up and now I can give this to you. :D

No disclaimer: Public Domain!

Ch. 6-The First Destination

2 August, 1894

I disembark in an hours time and as I am entirely prepared, I am once more left with nothing to occupy me but this sad account. With an eye on my watch, I shall endeavor to begin how I came to this point in my journey.

Mycroft allowed me the use of his lavatory so that I could freshen up before my journey and I must admit that it did go some way into reviving me. Still, I had to make do with my present attire even though I was fairly itching with the need to remove the offending garments. They smelled of Baker Street, of Holmes, despite everywhere else I had been today and it was unlikely that any nose but mine could detect the lingering scent of my former friend's tobacco. I paused mid-button. Former friend. That is what Holmes was now. I would never again be able to listen to his violin playing, or watching any of experiments, or experience the thrill of the hunt when I accompanied him on a case. But what triggered those damnable tears once more was the thought that I would not be able to simply be with Holmes any more. Indeed, it was very unlikely that I would return to England at all once I had left it. There was too much here that had and would cause me pain and kill me far quicker that any bullet. Some would no doubt brand me a coward for running, but how can a man be a coward when he is attempting to save his sanity? At this point, however, I was uncertain that it could be saved.

"Doctor?" Mycroft's questioning tone brought me back from my maudlin contemplations and I hastily attended to the rest of my dress before facing him. "We must leave now if you are to catch the last train."

I nodded and accepted the proffered bowler graciously. In my haste to vacate Baker Street, I had left both my hat and coat behind. Luckily my spare medical bag was among the items that Lestrade had gone to retrieve, for my other remained where it had landed, its contents no doubt spilled all over the sitting room floor. That is, if Holmes has not chucked it out the window. If he has done so, hopefully there was no one passing beneath the window. The last thing anyone needed was to be skewered by my scalpel.

With nothing but silence to fill the void between Mycroft and myself in the cab, I was forced to finally give some thought to where it was I wished to go. I was entirely truthful when I stated that I had not given any thought to this part of my plan with the irrational hope that I would never have to implement it. I snorted at that thought. Hope. Holmes was correct when it came to the matter of emotions. They had certainly gotten me into this mess and if I was ever to climb out again then I would have to learn how to control them.

A contemplation for another time. I wrenched my thoughts from their wanderings and returned them to the matter at hand: my first destination. I was not naïve enough to believe that my first choice would be my last for if anyone did care to pursue me, I would need to muddy the trail as much as possible. Part of my aid in that matter could be found in my luggage. I had not lived with Holmes all this time and not learned a bit on the subject of disguises. I had assisted in more than one application as well as listened to Holmes expound upon the proper technique one must employ. I am an apt pupil and meant to show it when Dr. John Watson got on the train but did not get off again.

It was as I was mentally reviewing the persona that I would adopt when our cab came to a halt outside the station. There, waiting with me trunk, was Lestrade. He was decidedly anxious if the amount of cigarette ends littered around him were any indication and I can practically feel his sigh of relief as we descended from the cab.

"Worried, Lestrade?" I could not help but ask as soon as we were close enough. "Or are you contemplating something more sinister?" The dark scowl that creased the inspector's face showed me it was the latter. I could only hope after my departure that he would not make trouble for Holmes for I do believe the consulting detective could and would return the favor.

Some of my worry must have shown for the Yarder blew out one last great cloud of smoke before tossing the cigarette among the others. "Already secured you a compartment, Doctor, and bought your ticket." When I opened my mouth to protest, he held up his hand. "Please, allow me this, Watson."

I released a small sigh of my own, but then found that I could smile. "Thank you, Gabriel. You have been a good friend, one which I will sorely miss."

The little inspector cleared his throat (was that faint pink on his cheek?) and reached inside his coat to produce a package. "Then perhaps you will accept this from your friend as well. I had purchased it as a Christmas gift. A bit early, but I couldn't pass it up. Seeing as how you're leaving, you might find a good use for it."

Though faint (for all my emotions were still muted at this point) my curiosity was aroused and I tore into the simple brown wrapping. Its contents proved to be a large, handsome, black leather journal. I allowed my fingers to graze over the surface, lingering on the engraved golden hound head.

"It reminded me of you." Now Lestrade was clearly embarrassed as he shuffled self-consciously under my astonished gaze. "And you might have need of it in days to come," he added lamely.

"Thank you again, my friend." The gratefulness that coloured my tone only served to embarrass the man further. It was as I was brushing my thumb over the hound's head that my first destination sprang to mind.

"Five minutes, Doctor, before the train departs," Mycroft reminded us, jolting me from my thoughts and Lestrade from his embarrassment.

"Right." Tucking the journal securely in my borrowed coat, I held out my hand to the elder Holmes. "Good-bye, Mycroft. It has been a pleasure."

"Do not hesitate to write, Doctor. I will make certain it is not found. You can expect your payments at regular intervals."

I nodded my thanks and turned to Lestrade. "All the paperwork on our last case is locked away in the bottom drawer of the desk in my consulting room." I passed him the key. "I am glad that I am not leaving you in a bind."

"Even if you were, you wouldn't have to worry," Lestrade promised. "I'll take care of everything at the Yard. Now hurry! You'll miss your train!"

With this final farewell I left them, availing myself of the compartment secured by Lestrade and the silence that it afforded me. I waited until my ticket had been checked before drawing the shade and removing my valise from its hold. It was in this bag that the first step to my freedom would be secured. I would make John Watson disappear and allow Godric Jameson to emerge. A simple, but well-traveled gentleman, born and bred in the country, who had some knowledge of medicine, but was escaping the fog and soot of London. It was a role that I had practiced somewhat infrequently in the past but was confident enough that I could, despite my condition, perform well.

As to my destination, I had to thank Lestrade for it was his gift that prompted my memory. It was years ago that the first invitation was made but I had received several renewals of the offer since. It was high time I took up Sir Henry on his offer and returned to Baskerville Hall.

End Ch.6

A/N: Short, I know, but it honestly doesn't fit well with the next chapter. They begged to be separate so…Anyhoo as soon as I can get Holmes's journal typed up, you will have it presented for your reading pleasure. Now I am off to immerse myself in Jeremy Brett for surely no one portrays Holmes as well as he.

Important Point: As the editor's choice, Leslie Klinger placed the Baskerville case during 1889. For my purposes, I place the case during 1887, six months after the death of his wife. Klinger places wife number 1's death in December of that year, but I say January. You know, in case any of you were curious. You will understand why when we reach the next chapter of Watson.

Reviews are always appreciated and what keeps this story alive!