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The Perfect Actor

The first thing I did upon waking the morning following Holmes's confession of self loathing and pride for his daughter, was close my eyes and attempt to return to sleep.

Night had been difficult, worry and fears raced across my mind as stray dogs raced upon the dreary London streets, searching for food as my mind searched for answers. But perhaps what laced my troublesome thoughts the most was the utter dysfunction that was beginning to occur between my friend and I.

For a time I found myself alone and cold. For a time my life consisted of gray, at night I found my self loathing sleep simply because I knew I would have to wake up again to another gray and meaningless morning.

And then, as the great poet Homer said, "The Rosy Fingered Dawn" showed itself to me and me finally, after so very long, found purpose.

As much as I loathed the current situation, as much as I abhorred all thoughts of any such behavior, he and he alone saw through my outer persona and reached out a helping hand. Holmes's had presented himself to me at a time in which I most required, under the facade of a man in need of financial assistance he invited me into his life of adventure and companionship.

I am no detective, but it has not gone unnoticed that my friend seems to have an ample sum of money, and is in no dearth of required funds.

Sherlock Holmes, Perficio Ludio ludius

And now, his friend was a father.

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At thirty-five past the hour of eight o'clock Watson made his way into the main living quarters of the flat that he shared with Sherlock Homes.

It did not take but a moment for the already perturbed man to notice the disarray of his floor, and his chair, and his breakfast table. It almost looked as though his dear friend was on a case. But surly that was impossible considering the current circumstances.

Turning to question a certain landlady as to the condition of his flat, he was startled to see her standing in the door way with a tray of tea.

"Mrs. Hudson…I do say what is all of this about?"

Looking not the least bit unnerved or rattled she made her way towards the table, or at least Watson believed it was a table at one time, at the moment he couldn't make out a visible surface.

"Certainly you realize what the slew of papers and his absence during the early morning means Doctor Watson?"

Frustrated, the usually patient man replied with a huff.

"Of course I understand what it looks like, but he couldn't possible be taking up employment, no matter how much joy he finds in the chase! And where the blaze is the girl? Oh dear…he didn't take her with him did he? The danger she could be in…he has no regard for his safety….but could he really disregard hers so easily?"

The hearty woman let a small laugh escape her lips before returning to her stolid professional frame.

"Of course he didn't take her along! He left her here."

As Watson's eyes widened Mrs. Hudson became alarmed that he was suffering pains of some sort. When he got down on all fours and began leafing through papers and looking under the table cloth she became absolutely petrified.

"Doctor!"

"Don't just stand there woman! Help me search for Marie! She could have sophisticated under Sunday's Times and we may not find her until Monday with this mess! Aren't you paid to keep this tidy! Honestly how can he live like this! This irresponsibility is unforgivable!"

"Doctor Watson, please stand up, you look like a fool!" In a rare show of force Mrs. Hudson had grabbed the frazzled man's arm in an attempt to pull him off the floor.

"This room is not safe for a child of such an age; we must find her amongst her clutter…. I know! Perhaps he left her in his bedroom."

Standing in order to search his friend's room, he was detained as a very determined landlady threw herself in his way.

"Please Doctor Watson, Marie is safe with me, she is downstairs asleep, Billy the page boy is looking after her why I served you your tea."

Looking relieved, embarrassed, and enraged Watson somehow found his way to the table, and somehow found a way to eat some of the Scottish ladies delectable cakes and tea.

Forty-five minuets after the hour of eight Watson put down his cup and asked one singular question.

"Just who's case did he employ himself under this time Mrs. Hudson?"

Another chuckle escaped the woman's lips.

"He is not under anyone's employment Doctor Watson."

"Woman, I was under the impression that he was out searching…."

A simple sigh and then a most shocking statement.

"Forgive me, but I thought you knew. Mr. Holmes is on a case, only it is a case for himself, you see, he's looking for the man who killed that girls mother."

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Thanks to Janey Aurora For sending me a small reminder people still read this. I am home as you all realize, but my laptop with the story did not work, and assuming it would be fixed soon I did not seek other methoids of writing until I realized that it may be longer then expected, meaning never. Lol

It seems that quite a slew of "Babies popping into lives" stories have been showing up.

Sweet.

Sorry its been forever, sorry the chappy isn't that great, I'm trying to metnaly figure out a mystery.

Any advice?

Thanka.

The Perfect Actor