I wrote this about 6 moths ago. You may like it or not. I do hope you will mostly enjoy it. Do let me know.

Brettian Wishes,

Jeremys Angel



This story and all chapters with all subsequent chapters are copyrighted. No part of this story may be reproduced without the authors written permission.

Please excuse any spelling mistakes. I have tried finding them all.



It all started on a fairly nice summer afternoon in 1895. Mrs. Hudson suddenly entered the sitting room where Holmes and myself were sitting and smoking our pipes. We both knew there must be something important for her to be entering without knocking. Indeed her face also told us so.

"You better come downstairs." She said simply.

Both me and Holmes quickly rose to follow her. As we had reached the front door she opened it a little more and to my suprise just outside was a woman lying unconsious. Her light brown hair covering a small part of her face and it was a very pale face. Holmes and I quickly went to check on her. I checked her pulse and was releived to find that my fears had been wrong. I then noticed her strange clothing. Holmes had noticed it aswell and was studying her most careful. He then gathered her gently in his arms. "We had better get her inside." He said and I nodded.

Her carried her upstairs to his own bedroom and again gently laid her down. At that moment the young woman started to turn. Holmes drew back quickly. Slowly with some effort it seemed she opened her eyes. A pair of very beautiful blue eyes. She looked at Holmes who in effort smiled a little to her. "How are you feeling?" He asked.

She sat up with a start and then her eyes went a little wider. "Where..." She had now seen me. "What..."

Holmes interupted her. "We were hoping you could tell us."

She looked back at Holmes.

"Forgive me,..." He said. "My name is Sherlock Holmes and this..." He gestured to me. ".....is my friend Doctor John Watson."

She looked at us and then started to laugh. I could see by Holmes face he was indeed as suprised as I was.

"Good one. Did my brother set you up to this?" She asked Holmes. "I know he loves those stories but this is to much." With a small effort she tried to leave the bed. As she stood up she felt faint and Holmes then helped her back.

"I assure you Miss...." When he received no answer he countinued. "I do not know your brother and am not in the habit of telling untruths."

She gazed at him again. "Where am I."

He again answered. "221 b Baker Street."

She sighed. "Look Mr. who ever, I know my brother planned some sort of birthday suprise for me but he knows I am not as intrested in this Holmes guy as he is."

I could see a faint smile on his lips. What ever was going on here Holmes was intrigued.

"Well my dear..." my friend said. "...I can not convince you of something you do not wish to beleive. You seem quite certain of what you claim. However, for the moment you need rest...."

She did not give him a chance to answer him as she quickly got out of bed and this time no signs of fatigue.

She then proceeded to walk past us out to the sitting room as Holmes regained his manners faster then I he followed. As did I.

We came to the sitting room to find her by the window. Absorbed in what she saw she had a look of disbeleif on her face. Hearing us she turned ,with again, a pale face. "My brother is good but this..... What...is going on?"

My friend walked over to her and gestured for her to sit on one of the chairs. He had never quite treaded a woman like this.

"That is what I am here for." Holmes offered. "To find out."

I came and sat in beside her and took her hand. "What is your name?" I asked.

She blinked. "Eh..oh..it's....Gina Gerome."

"Now Miss Germoe....." I started but was interupted.

"Call me G.G. Everyone does and it's the only thing I respond to."

I nodded. "Where are you from?"

"Place or year?" She asked me and I admit I did not know what to say. Holmes however, seemed to not be supprised at her question.

"I gather from your reaction that you are from..." my friend paused "...some place completely different?"

Miss Germoe nodded. "If you are who you say you are then yes, I am."

"That would be....?" Holmes asked.

"You may not beleive me but before I woke up the year was 2001."

I could not beleive what I was hearing. This must be a joke. I looked at my friend and saw that his face was quite serious and not as shocked as I was.

"You clothes, for a woman and even a man, are quite different." He said to her.

"Yes. I am familliar with your time frame. Before you ask I do not know how I got here and how to get back. All I know is that right after getting dressed and having breakfast I passed out in my home."

"You are not from this time and yet you knew who we were?" Holmes asked.

She laughed yet again. "Ah yes, even in our time we know about you. Both of you. You two are quite popular for fictional characters."

Both Holmes and I looked at her in suprise.

"You see everyone beleives that you are made up and not real." She saw the look on our faces. "Ah but don't worry, your fans has a strong beleif that you did exist or so they wanna beleive. You will be in history book for ever and ever I'm sure."

Holmes frowned as he got up. "All the things I have done and people think I am a made up figure in an ongoing saga."

"Yes, there it is. The ego of Sherlock Holmes."

He turned to her in supprise. For a woman, even for a man, in a short while she had supprised my friend several times. Indeed, she was different.

"Yes, I know you are great at what you do and all that but face it babe..." At the last word did I not notice Holmes turning a little blushed and yet again, shocked. "...this guy here..." She gestured to me. "...did have a lot to do with it. Without him no one would even know your name."

I blushed as she turned to me. "You deserve a lot more credit then you are getting Doc."

Doc? No one had ever called me that.

"Indeed he does." Holmes said as me and Miss Gerome both looked up at him.

He coughed. "I am not a man of emotion as you may know Miss Gerome..."

"G.G." She interupted.

"G.G...." He said it slow as if he was tasting the name in his mouth. "...but I assure you I am most grateful for Watsons presence whenever he graces me with it." He had a look of caring on his face.

She smiled at him as did I. She then seemed to realize something as her face changed.

"Is there something wrong?" I asked her.

"I just...if you both are real then that must mean that........."

Holmes and I looked at her carefully not to force the issue out.

She sighed. "My mother was never married to my father."

I was about to say something but Holmes interupted me. "Times have changed I gather." He simply stated.

"They have." She countinued. "In my time two people don't have to be married to eh......be intimate and have children. The point I am making is that if my parents had been married my name would have been...." She took a deep breath. "...Moriarty."

Indeed this was a new twist and I say Holmes eyes widened a fraction.

"Yes, I am related to THE Professor Morarty. As with you guys I thought the professor was a made up character. Oh I should start from the beginning. My brother, as you might have guessed, is an avid fan of yours. He has read all of the srtories more then once. Well the original stories anyway."

"The original stories?" I had to ask.

She faced me. "Yes, it's in what people call The Canon. Then there are, I don't know how many people out there who has written stories about Sherlock Holmes. Some, because they truly love the cha..." She turned to face my friend. "You and to make up stories about you. And some because they only wanna make money. In any case my father always told us that all the people in the Canon books were real because he was related to Professor Moriarty. He even showed us things which to him proved what he said. Before you ask, this proof could have been false. I never paid any attention to it because I did not care. My brother did not really care that much either. He found the idea of being a relative to the greatest enemy of the hero he had absolutely, well, he hated it. My father always got mad at us for not beleving in him."

Holmes had under this time lit one of his pipes and was clearly absorbing all she said.

"Well I know it must be akward having someone related to you-know-who here..." She started to rise.

"Sit down my dear. I have no intention of throwing you out if that is what you are reffering to. Where would you go?" My friend asked.

"I don't know but I don't wanna make myself a burden."

"If you were to do so I assure you, would have said so. Now for the mean time you should stay here. You would be lost, I'm afraid, out there."

She seated herself down again. "Yes, I would. You don't mind..I mean considering....."

"I often consider myself a good judge of character and from what I have seen you do not seem like the person who inhebits the same qualities that the late Professor did."

However she was not so easily convinced.



Later that evening Holmes had convinced Miss...., G.G., to stay at Baker Street. I must say she gave him a hard time. She did not want to interfere but he insisted. I had in the meantime returned to my home and explained it all to my wife. She had after watching my serious face and knowing I would never lie to her beleived me. I borrowed some of her clothes to take with me that G.G. could use.

After having given the clothes to Mrs. Hudson who told me the young woman had agreed to stay I went to the sitting room to find Holmes carefully looking over the trousers G.G. had been wearing.

"Intresting..." He said to me when I seated myself in my old chair. He looked up to me. "She has retrieved for the evening, quite exhausted and was kind enough to let me study this." He tossed it to me. "Take a look Watson."

I did so and indeed has never seen anything like it.

"It is called Jeans." Holmes told me.

"Jeans?" I asked.

"Yes." My friend countinued. "She would not allow herself to answer any of my questions about the place she came from and rightly so."

I only stayed for a little while longer before returning home to my wife who I promised to introduced to G.G. as soon as she saw fit.