From Book girl fan: Adrift.

When we embarked upon the trip, we thought it would only be a simple reconnaissance mission. So simple, in fact, that Holmes railed against the favour he owed his brother (what favour I still didn't know), and insisted that I join him to liven the journey. I was keen to come, even if there was no promise of adventure, for though I had travelled my fair share of the world I had still never seen The Netherlands. Moreover, I had heard of The Friesland beforehand, for it was a new steamship set to be equipped with all the most up-to-date technology and amenities of our time [1] which I would be keen to experience as a passenger.

The first sign of something amiss was a delay in Mycroft's telegrams. I would have hardly noticed, but Holmes was most perturbed.

"Mycroft's calculations on such things are rarely incorrect," he informed me over that day's breakfast aboard the steamship, still closely inspecting the telegram that had been given him by one of the ship's stewards earlier in our cabin. "Even when I was travelling the continent, and hardly knew where I would be myself, he somehow managed to estimate when and where his various correspondences would reach me."

"You think someone has been intercepting your communications?"

"I am certain of it. Which means someone aboard the ship knows that we are not who we say we are." He leant back in his chair, much as he would his armchair in Baker Street, deep in thought. "Watson, do you have your revolver?"

I nodded, which seemed to reassure him a little. "You think there is danger then?"

"Certainly more than Mycroft suspected when he set us on this task." Holmes stood. "I will wire him now. I fear that whatever is going on aboard this ship is more than we are equipped to handle. Shall I meet you back in the cabin?"

"Of course."

I never made it back to the cabin, for I was waylaid by one of the ship's engineers who looked pale as a ghost.

"Excuse me, Doctor Jones isn't it?"

This was the alias Holmes and I had agreed on, for according to him it was better that any lies I told were as close to truth as possible. "Yes, that is me. Is there a problem?"

"It's the captain sir! He's been shot!"

I did consider fetching Holmes first, for it was certain that the shooting was linked to whatever criminal forces were at work on this vessel, but there was a man's life at stake and so I instead told the engineer - his name was Dekker - to go and fetch my medical bag as I went to the Captain.

He was in a very bad way, propped up by an assortment of coats and jumpers collected from various crewmen, and I caught a flash of bloodied teeth as he groaned in pain. We were in an engine room, and as Dekker ran in with my medical bag he informed me that the captain had been found just a few minutes ago when they had heard the gunshot and come running.

"Who shot him?"

"It was... a man..." The Captain hissed. "Brown hair... didn't recognise him..."

I shushed him, and set to work. He had been shot in the stomach, but mercifully the bullet had missed anything vital, although he promptly (and quite mercifully) lost consciousness. I patched him up, but he had lost a lot of blood and it was likely infection would set in. I told this to Dekker, who hovered anxiously nearby, once I had done as much as I could and the captain was taken to rest in his cabin.

"What's going on?" I asked, finally noticing the flurry of activity going on around us. There was a great deal of yelling, and crewmen running back and forth with panicked expressions.

"The engine's stopped." Dekker shrugged helplessly. "The Captain's been shot, the first mate's nowhere to be found, and no one knows what the problem is. I had best go help, so much as I can."

"Watson!" At that moment Holmes barrelled around the corner, looking nearly as pale as Dekker had when he called me aside to treat the captain. Dekker looked curious, given Holmes had used my real name rather than my pseudonym, but evidently had more pressing worries and dashed off. "What in God's name has happened to you?"

I realised, then, what a sight I must look, stained with blood. All I could think to say, numbly, was, "It's not mine."

"Well I can see that." He picked my medical bag up from the floor, and beckoned me to follow him. "Come quickly now. We must speak in private."

Once we reached our cabin I told Holmes what had happened to the captain.

"And he didn't give you any clearer description of the man who shot him?"

I shook my head regretfully. "He was not in any fit state to do so." I went to unpack my revolver, for the sudden encounter with the poor captain had left me more shaken than I cared to admit.

"He would have been midway through his daily inspection," Holmes mused. "Perhaps he saw someone tampering with the engines, and that's why they've stopped."

"Holmes..." I looked, aghast, from my case. "My revolver is gone."

He was on his feet in an instant, coming beside me to examine the contents of my suitcase. "Gone? Are you certain?"

I raised a sardonic eyebrow.

"Of course, of course you are certain. But did you have it this morning?"

"I had it before breakfast, when Mycroft's first telegram arrived with the steward." I huffed. I had not been parted from my revolver for any lengthy period of time since my time as an army medic. It felt almost like losing a limb. "Speaking of Mycroft, were you able to wire him?"

"I was." Holmes smiled humourlessly. "The stopped engine meant there was no-one manning the telegraph, but I muddled through. He replied swiftly."

"And?" I asked, but already a knot of dread was forming in my stomach, for there was something in Holmes's expression that suggested ill news. "Will they send help?"

"As soon as they can, but a terrible snowstorm has struck the coast."

I groaned. "You mean to say we are alone until it lets up?"

"Alone, adrift, and without a weapon between us."

And then, as though to punctuate this sentiment, the force of a small explosion from somewhere below decks rocked through the entire ship and sent us both tumbling to our cabin floor.

[1] I did a little research, and telegrams on ships would have been quite rare, hence this little detail.