I didn't sleep. It was all I could do to wait until sunrise. At six thirty, I was dressed in my jeans and tee shirt, bundled up against the cold, and banging on Holmes' door for all I was worth.

Mrs. Holmes answered the door. "Watson?" she asked.

"Where's Holmes?" I gasped.

"Sherlock?" Mrs. Watson looked confused. "He just left ten minutes ago. He said he was going to practice fencing... with you!"

With that, I was off, running for the school.


~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~


I burst into the gym, wiping damp hair from my face. Holmes standing at the other end, his back to me. "Holmes," I gasped. "Holmes, are you okay? Listen, I..."

Holmes turned around and I stopped talking. There was something desperately wrong. His eyes were empty, and he looked straight through me. I trembled.

He was holding two fencing swords, and he walked towards me. I shrugged out of my jacket and tossed it aside. "Holmes, listen to me, its Watson..."

Holmes handed me a sword, and I took it with a shaking hand. "Holmes! We should be wearing masks and..." The sword was unusually heavy, and I ran my thumb along the blade. I gasped - a red line of blood appeared. "Holmes, these are real blades!"

"En guard, Princess," someone whispered from behind me.

I didn't have to look. I would recognize that voice anywhere. And I didn't have time to look. Holmes raised his blade and struck.

I blocked, terrified. He swung again, and again. "Holmes!" I screamed, "Stop it!"

He lunged for my middle, and I dodged to the side, smacking his blade away. He parried, then lunged again. With both hands, I slammed my blade into his as hard as I could. His sword went spinning away across the floor, and I dropped mine. "Hol-" I started to say, but he had thrown a punch. I ducked and Holmes rammed his other arm into my stomach. I groaned and stumbled backwards, then ducked another punch.

"Holmes!" I screamed, and slapped his across the face. He growled and threw himself at me. We fell backwards to the floor, grappling. I kicked him in the stomach and he slammed me backwards on to the hard floor. I saw little stars, and Holmes grabbed one of the blades. I rolled away and grabbed the other one, rising to one knee and fending off a blow. Our blades locked, and Holmes started pressing downward. I fell backwards, and Holmes kneeled above me, his eyes empty.

"Holmes," I pleaded. "Holmes, look at me! Look at me!" Our blades were coming closer to my neck. "Look at me! You know me! I'm Watson, Sara Watson. I'm your best friend. We laugh together. We spend all our time together. And you - " the blades were an inch from my neck. My arms were shaking uncontrollably but I kept my eyes locked on Holmes. "You, you're my best friend! You're the smartest, cleverest, most wonderful person I have ever met. You are my best friend - you - you are Sherlock Holmes!" I screamed, sobbing.





With a crash Holmes threw our blades to the side and swept me into his arms. His eyes were closed against the tears, which were flooding down his face.

"Watson!" he moaned, rocking back and forth. We both sobbed, clinging desperately to each other.

"No!" someone yelled. We looked up.

"Mr. Donnelley," Holmes said, standing. He picked up a blade, shaking with rage. "We killed you once, and I would be more than happy to do so again." I have never seen Holmes so angry.

The doors slammed shut behind Mr. Donnelley, and Holmes helped me stand. "He's dead," I whispered. "He's dead!"

"People like that never die," Holmes said, crying again. He reached out to me and I couldn't help it.

I flinched.

I watched Holmes' eyes fill with hurt. I tried to find something to say, but we both knew it would be a long, long time before things were ever right again.