Chapter Twenty-Two:

Sawyer…

Sawyer trudged through the thick snow on the London walk. It was November 1900, and months since the League left Kathryn at the mercy of their enemy. Mrs. Harker still hadn't found an antidote to the Elixir of Life. Neither had Jekyll, who was helping her. The League was beginning to lose all hope of ever finding the antidote. So they had docked at London to give them a few days on land before setting sail again.

The American didn't know London very well, so he took to exploring the large city. He had wandered past Baker Street, where the famous Sherlock Holmes and Kathryn had once lived in their respective houses. He wandered past Big Ben Clock Tower, stopping only to gaze up the tall tower to see the face of the famous clock. He wandered past Buckingham Palace. Then he realised he was utterly lost.

Looking around, he tried to make sense of his surroundings. But to no avail. So, he walked into the nearest shop to ask for directions. The League agreed to meet at the train station at Victoria at eleven o'clock, and it was a quarter past nine. He had time, but Sawyer wanted to know how to get there as soon as possible in case it would take a while.

The shop he walked into was an Apothecary. He remembered Kathryn talking about them at one point. A pang of guilt struck him. They still had no word from her. For all he knew, she was dead.

"What kin I get cher fir, laddie?" the wizened little man behind the counter asked as Sawyer looked around the shop.

The American went over to the counter and said in an undertone, "I'm actually looking for some information. Can you help me?"

The man screwed up his face in thought. "Well," he said slowly. "Th' infermashun hain't been commin' in steady since Miz Bennet lef' London. Kind er speraticish, y'know?"

"Miss Bennet?" Sawyer repeated. He had thought Kathryn's last name was Bennet. But he was having a difficult time remembering. "Who's Miss Bennet?"

"Miz Bennet?" the man repeated. "Ow, she's a pip! Yeh'd like 'er if yeh ever met 'er, yeh would. Lived over on—what wuz it? Oh, yeh. Bak'r Street. Nex' to wotch 'is name? Ol' 'Olmes. Sherlock 'Olmes. But, Miz Bennet. Now, 'ere's a gal that hain't got nuffink to wurry abou', she don'. Got's everyfink und'r 'er control, don' she? Real smart 'un. Got's a good 'ead on 'er shoulders." The man sighed and lost himself in thought.

Even though Sawyer hated listening to this man speak, he still needed information. "Hello, excuse me," he said. "I'm sure Miss Bennet is a wonderfully nice person, but I need information. How do I get to Victoria?"

"Not lost, are you, my dear?" a woman said behind him. Sawyer spun around. Standing a few feet away was a woman who could be considered a witch, if he believed in witches. She had long, scraggily black hair, a crooked nose that looked as though she broke it, and gnarled hands. She held out one of her gnarled and deformed hands. "I'll help you find your way."

"No, thank you," he said, backing away from her. His back hit the counter. "I just need to be pointed in the right direction. Where is Victoria?"

"I'd 'ead norf, I fink," the man behind the counter said. "Cain't be shore, but I fink it's norf."

The gnarled woman took Sawyer's arm in her surprisingly pincer-like grip. "Come with me," she said, pulling him toward the door. "I'll get you there."

"No," he said, trying to get out of her grip.

"Sawyer?" The young American looked up. In the doorway stood a woman who had a familiar shadow. She walked into the shop and over to him. She managed to get the crone to let go of him. "Sawyer, what're you doing here?"

"Kate?" he asked softly.

She smiled and took his hand. "Come on, let's get you in the sun," she said, pulling him to the door. "You look frighted out of your mind, you do." She pulled him out onto the pavement and brushed him off. "What were you doing in the Apothecary, Sawyer? Dodgy place. Don't want anyone to see you in there." She smiled at him and waited for him to speak.

"Kate," he whispered again. Then he pulled her into a tight hug. "You're alive. I can't believe it! You're alive!"

She pushed him away from her. "We don't hug in public in London," she said. "Walk with me, I'll get you a bite." She began walking down the street. Sawyer followed her, examining her and wondering why she seemed different.

Then the fading sunlight hit her hair just right. It was auburn. He was used to seeing her hair brown. He liked the red hair. It suited her. She was wearing a black dress that covered her more than the dresses she wore on the Nautilus. It had a high collar, long sleeves, and a long skirt. She had always worn long skirts, but this one seemed particularly long for some reason. "Kate," he said. "Why the change of appearance?"

She looked at him sideways. "Do you honestly think I would survive being in London looking the way I did?" she asked as they turned down Baker Street. She led him up the steps of one of the houses and unlocked the front door. "Come on in, Sawyer."

He entered the house and looked around him. It smelled strongly of chemicals. It suited her. "Is this where you live?" he asked.

"Well, I own it," she said, walking down the hall to the kitchen. Sawyer followed her. "I'm staying here temporarily until I can find a better place. I can't stay in London forever, unfortunately. Mr. Holmes believes there's a small house on the property next to his that may be put up for sale fairly soon. So I may leave London forever and live there. But I'm undecided. I just need to be able to continue my studies." She fell silent and got out a small loaf of bread and began to slice it.

He looked around the kitchen. It looked rather bare. "You can't keep living like this," he commented as she spread some butter on the bread slices. "You should find someone. Get married, settle down and have a family. You can't die unmarried."

"I was married," she said, handing him a slice of bread. "A few times. Unfortunately for them, only the first husband escaped the marriage alive."

"Who was he?"

She chuckled. "Dr. Watson," she said. "Mr. Holmes' closest friend."

"Was the parting agreeable?" Sawyer asked, taking a bite of the bread. It was a little stale, but it still tasted really good. And he realised just how hungry he was.

"Yes," she said after a while. "To this day, he has no idea I left." Sawyer gave her a look of confusion. She laughed a little. "I had my sister pose as me several years ago. Since she looks exactly as I did—my hair was blond then—he was fooled. I only needed her to pose as me for a few months. But she fell in love with him and she was determined to stay Mrs. Mary Watson for the rest of her life. So, he has no idea it isn't me."

"But you're the one married to him, aren't you?" he asked, finishing the bread. She handed him another slice.

"Technically," she said. "But, it was under an alias. So, technically, whoever bears the alias, whether me or my sister, is married to him. It doesn't matter. At least he's alive, right?"

"I suppose," he said, setting the bread on the platter with the rest of the loaf. "Kate, how're you holding up?"

"I don't understand," she said.

"Skinner told us you were shot," he said. "Were you?" She nodded silently. "Are you okay?"

"Sawyer, I'm fine," she said. "I was properly attended to, I assure you. Occasionally, it gets a bit sore from work, but other than that…" She stopped talking and looked up into Sawyer's eyes as he drew closer to her. "You have beautiful eyes," she whispered.

"So do you," he replied as he pulled her into his arms and kissed her.