I am the writer. Please, join me, and ponder... What if Sherlock Holmes was the Napoleon of Crime? What if Mycroft was a detective, too? What if John Watson was blind? What if Holmes and Watson were literal, not figurative, brothers? What if Holmes was a mad scientist? What if...

Months after the events of EMPT, Holmes is slowly learning that Watson might not return to "normal" with anything resembling the speed Holmes would have preferred.

Shortly after his promotion to inspector at Scotland Yard, Lestrade is tasked with investigating the murder of an unwed young mother of two over on the east end of London.

From that first Christmas, Watson started a campaign to remind Holmes of the fun of the season. Information from Mycroft provides one more opportunity to do so.

When an old memory of Watson's begins to make him act oddly, Sherlock Holmes will do what he can to help his friend. But why is Watson being so secretive? And more importantly, why does a recent string of murders have him absolutely terrified?

If Watson could not banish the small insects crawling through his side, he might as well give them a purpose.

Endings are also beginnings—and reconnectings. Two years apart only highlights the changes in his friend.

A collection of fragments, either missing scenes from my other stories or random scribblings too small to warrant their own postings. Each chapter stands alone

A collection of all my responses to Watson's Woes Alternative July event on Dreamwidth. Each chapter stands alone

A short, humorous tale about Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson's teatime mystery. Nothing too scary or intense. Contains some very mild gore. This short story was originally a scene scrapped from a much longer story for pacing and continuity reasons. But liked the scene and thought it was funny, so I reworked it and decided to publish it as a short story.

A criminal is taken out of prison to help with one of holmes cases. For him this means freedom or death. Mrs. Hudson hates all the extra laundry.

When the aftermath of an accident finds Holmes and Watson in an old haunted manor house, they learn of a vampiric curse that haunts the family of an old friend; they must seek to break it before it's too late.

John, je ne veux pas te perdre. Je t'aime. Tellement. Ne me quitte pas. Je t'en prie. Non, je t'en supplie. Encore moins. Je t'en conjure.

Il referma sa bouche, puis partit en courant. Je ne me donnai plus longtemps à vivre. J'entendis la voix de Sherlock, il était au bout de la ruelle. Je montais discrètement dans un cab. Mon sang tâchait la banquette noire. Ma main droite essayait de minimiser l'hémorragie. Cinq minutes plus tard, j'entrais à Baker Street. Mme Hudson était montée se coucher.

A collection of unconnected short stories which the author has written just for fun and don't quite warrant their own posting.

A collection of individual poems, featuring characters associated with 221B Baker Street. Ch. 4.Hot and Cross: Lestrade regrets helping out with one of Holmes' schemes.

After Watson returns from the war, injured and weak, there's not much for him to do to relieve a bit of his suffering. Until a pleasant little surprise finds him in a park one morning.

Series of drabbles concerning Holmes image throughout the years

Three days after the events of Brothers in Arms, Watson must solve a different kind of mystery. What is wrong with Holmes?

Sherlock Holmes finally decides to introduce Watson to his brother Mycroft. It should be absurdly simple, so why is he so anxious about it?

Katie wasn't sure what the future would hold. But she was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to include the past... or another dimension.

Rumor always travels much faster than planned. Coincides with chapters 13-15 of Brothers in Arms

Holmes usually ignores all mention of food until he grows faint from hunger. He would never pause a drawn-out denouement for something so "trivial" as a meal…would he? Between chapters 17 and 18 of Brothers in Arms

"My dear Watson, I do not know why I am writing to you. You know that I am no wordsmith. The process of turning fact into fanciful embellished narrative is your domain, not mine. Perhaps more significantly, though, there is little point writing to you because you are dead." Sherlock Holmes must track down an old enemy in a new time.

Watson suffers from one of those 'spontaneous time travel' diseases, which explains all of the inconsistencies in his narratives. A story about romance, friendship and how relationships can move between them without a gain or loss in value.