Author's Notes: I do not own Once Upon A Time which is a show on ABC where Barney Gumble arrives in a clown suit and says he's Krusty. Anyway, I know it's been a while, I've been busy and there was some time canon was screwing with me. I haven't had time to get back to anyone, but I will soon. Please let me know what you think and happy reading!


Present

The group went with Nellie and Hector with promises of visiting the Ministry. They arrived at the Shard, sans Cruella, Regina and Pamela. The first two were simply not permitted in any office of the British government and Pamela pled she had something to do.

"Okay, really, the Shard?," Beatrice asked, turning to Nellie. "Why didn't you just make it Canary Wharf?"

"Upstairs. Jeeves is waiting."

"Jeeves is waiting?," John asked skeptically. He looked at Beatrice questioningly and she shrugged back. "Auntie Nellie..."

He hastened his pace to catch up with her and Hector in the lobby. They caught up at the lift.

"You are going to have to give me something more to go on," John insisted.

"Like why we're not riding motorcycles up the side of the building," Beatrice said under her breath.

"John, I told you, we work for a branch of the British government that deals with fairy tale characters." Nellie shrugged. "And you know, whatever other characters."

The lift doors opened. Belle, Merlin, Gold and Beatrice joined the three inside.

"Yes, but Sherlock Holmes is not a fairy tale character. I mean, what am I supposed to take away from this? I'm the real John Watson?"

"Well, yes, John," said Nellie. "I mean, your father did want to name you Clarence, but luckily your mother spoke up."

"If it makes you feel any better my brother says he stayed with the Darlings," said Beatrice.

"So what? You lot just waited about for the birth of John Watson and you didn't say anything when I decided to join the army or go to medical school?"

"We saw it coming," said Hector.

John looked at Beatrice. "Do you believe this?"

"Yeah, kind of, but..." she motioned at her parents. "Kind of used to it."

Belle spoke up, looking at Nellie. "You said at the library that you thought I was onto Joseph being alive from the book I checked out. Why is that?"

"The case files were damaged but we know Joseph and his traveling companions arrived in the summer of 1914 and we do know they stayed with Sir Arthur Conan Doyle as he wrote The Adventure of the Gold Pendant."

"But you don't know where he went after that?," asked Merlin.

Nellie shrugged. "The answer is in the book. We can talk to the case officer if you like."

Hector groaned. "Oh, not him again."

"Oh, come off it," Nellie chastised.

"So, the case officer just sits around doing Sherlock Holmes stuff all day?," asked Beatrice. "I mean, I know some people on tumblr who would probably like that job."

"Oh, no, he was the case officer in 1914," said Nellie.

"Okay, so that was a while ago..." said Beatrice.

"How is it this man is here to talk to us?," asked Gold.

"He had an incident," said Nellie.

They finally arrived at the relevant floor where they walked out to see a gleaming modern lobby dotted with various relics, the most prominent of which was a sword in a stone in the center.

Belle looked over at Merlin. "Uh, Father?"

"What? Haven't you seen Excalibur before?"

"No," said Gold.

"Well, not as if you didn't try, sunshine." He motioned at it. "Shall we take a picture now you're finally next to it? Beatrice, where's your iPhone? Your father wants a picture."

Gold grimaced.

"This way," Nellie said, trying to steer them forward.

As they reached the inner sanctum of the office which seemed to be a pretty typical office set up belying that the people there were concerned with fairy tales and magic. Nellie led them into another room covered in high tech screens with information about Sherlock Holmes.

"Our case officer is only certain of one thing," said Nellie. "The answer to the mystery of where Joseph is lies in The Adventure of the Gold Pendant."

Beatrice picked up one of the many copies on the table. Belle did the same.

"What does that mean?," asked Belle.

"We don't know, that's why you're here," said Nellie. "John, you might want to pick up a book, darling?"

John rolled his eyes. "Why? Because I'm John Watson now?"

Beatrice looked up from her book. "Are you at all worried about getting shot in Afghanistan?"

"I am not getting shot in Afghanistan!"

Beatrice shrugged. "I didn't write it."

"Tea anyone?," asked Hector.

"So, the meaning of the Christmas special was what exactly?," asked Gold, taking a seat at the end of the table.

"To get Beatrice's attention," said Nellie.

"Well, sadly she didn't watch it," Gold pointed out with irritation. "She was slightly upset about her True Love dying."

"Well, I suppose Joseph may have had trouble foreseeing a world where Beatrice gave up watching Sherlock," said Belle, taking the seat next to her husband.

"Why doesn't the case officer know?," asked Beatrice. "If they met, why didn't Joseph tell him?"

"As I said, there was an incident."

"Am I late?"

Hector's face soured. They turned to see the visitor that had joined them. A slim man with dark hair.

"No," said Nellie. "We were just getting started. Everyone, this is the case officer, David Somerset."

"Hello, Merlin," said Somerset.

"I ought to have known you would be here."

"Oh, I never left. Unlike you."

"Well, you know me, lots of places to be."

John eyed the man skeptically. "You are over a hundred years old."

"Well, it's not the years, it's the miles," said Somerset.

"I was just going to order up some tea," said Hector.

"I would rather drink mud."

"Well, I can't offer you vodka as this is an office in the twenty-first century," the other man shot back.

"Why don't you call Human Resources?"

"Why? Do you need another sexual harassment seminar?"

"Alright then," said Nellie. "Have we had enough stroking our egos for one meeting?"

The two glared at each other. Somerset turned to Beatrice.

"Miss Gold, I do believe I have something of yours."

"You do?"

He placed the box in front of her. It was red with a royal seal on it.

"I just retrieved this from the vault."

"She has to sign it out," Hector chastised.

"Well, why don't you tend to the paperwork?"

Beatrice opened the box. Belle peered over her shoulder. Inside was a gold pendant. It was in the shape of a rose, encrusted with diamonds. She gingerly pulled it out of the box.

"It's the one from the story," said Beatrice.

"It's beautiful," said Belle.

"What am I supposed to do with this?," asked Beatrice.

"Well, keep track of it. It's valued at nearly a hundred thousand pounds."

"Holy Jesus," said John.

"You don't seem terribly impressed," said Somerset looking at Beatrice.

"What do you expect? Her father spins straw into gold," said Merlin.

"Dad," said Beatrice.

Gold stood and took the pendant. "A very impressive piece and not just for the craftsmanship."

"It's magical," Beatrice supplied and her father nodded.

"Once again, your considerable natural instincts do you credit. Not forged magically, but it has been enchanted," said Gold. "The question is what is it meant to do?"

"I don't know," said Somerset.

"And you don't know where Joseph is?," asked Belle.

"The answer is in the book," he replied. "That's all I know."

Beatrice picked the paperback back up off the table.

"What if it's a location in the book?"

"What do you mean?," asked Nellie.

"I mean, Sherlock usually films on location except for like Buckingham Palace..."

"And Doyle usually wrote things based on real locations," said Belle.

"So it's somewhere in the book," said John. "So all we have to do is go to these places and you will... what? Look for something magical?"

"Yeah, pretty much," said Beatrice. "Back to Baker Street."

They stared at her.

"No one?" She shook her head. "This is really beginning to be inexcusable."


1914

Jenna left the breakfast room without comment. Joseph turned to Louise.

"Why don't you hate me?"

"She doesn't hate you."

"I think she does, but you two are twins. You grew up in the same house, with the same parents, same experiences but she seems to hate me and you do not."

Louise shrugged. "The general theory is that I got my grandmother's good nature."

"And what is the general theory regarding Jenna? Or ought I say Elizabeth?"

"It's not Pride and Prejudice," said Louise.

"Damn."

"And she's older, she would be Jane."

"I don't really read things."

"I know." Louise smiled.

Barrie entered. "Doyle's gotten the initial copies back, if you would care for a look."

"Yes," said Joseph.

"Please," said Louise.

They followed him to Doyle's study where the author was already seated. Jenna already had the book out, reading furiously. Barrie handed them their copies.

"I can't wait to hear what criticisms you'll have," Doyle said dryly.

"You wouldn't hear so many if you understood my character at all," said Joseph.

He turned to open the book where Holmes and Watson were having an ordinary day at 221B Baker Street.

It was a rather rainy day as Londoners are accustomed to when Mrs. Hudson informed my friend and I that a young lady had arrived at Baker Street.

"Oh, yes, I saw her on the pavement, send her in."

Young ladies were not frequent visitors to Baker Street, for fear of impropriety. I did not need Sherlock Holmes' knowledge to surmise that the young lady who appeared in our parlor was not the sort to seek out the help of a detective.

"Mr. Holmes, I presume?"

"Yes, I-"

My friend was not wont to either lust or sentiment. His estimation of the fairer sex was limited to what he might use in his deductions but I saw Sherlock Holmes look at at a young woman with favor.

Though I had long given up bachelorhood, I could hardly argue with his choice. She was raven-haired, with deep brown eyes, her excellent figure clad in the latest of high street fashions. Beyond that was something more.

My friend cleared his throat, no doubt hoping to regain the composure of the world's only consulting detective.

"Yes," he said. "And you're Lady Beatrice MacAurielle."

"My reputation precedes me."

Indeed, even I had heard of her. Mrs. Watson had taken great interest in Lady Beatrice that past summer as had all the society papers upon her coming out during the season. I looked up to see the new visitor to Baker Street. Indeed her reputation was not without merit. In another life, she might have been the sort of young lady knights would slay dragons for and I believe my friend would have gladly been one of them.

"Shakespeare or Dante?," he erupted suddenly.

Lady Beatrice shook her head. "What?"

"Shakespeare or Dante. It seems rather obvious. Your mother's is the most prestigious literary circle in Bloomsbury and your given name is Beatrice therefore she either drew inspiration from Beatrice, the heroine of Much Ado About Nothing or Beatrice, Dante's guide through Paradise in the Inferno."

"Since when do you know anything about literature?," I asked my friend. Indeed the week before he had once denied all knowledge of the Bard.

"I once had to solve the serial homicides of a number of librarians. Nasty business. Paper cuts really can be much deadlier than people want to believe."

"Shakespeare," Lady Beatrice finally answered.

"And what brings you to Baker Street, Lady Beatrice? Certainly you wouldn't want it getting out that you were seen entering a man's flat."

"Well, Mr. Holmes, given that my father's reputation precedes me everywhere I go, I hardly think one more minor scandal will do me any further harm."

My friend now turned to me. "Do you know Lady Beatrice's father, John? He has several mining interests in places where no one thought there was anything of interest. His admirers claim he could spin straw into gold. His detractors say he will stop at nothing to get what he wants..."

"And that only a madman or a moron could want him for a father-in-law," Lady Beatrice shot back. My friend turned to her impressed. "So, you must understand my lack of concern for my reputation."

"Though it must be your reputation that makes you desperate enough to come here."

"Sherlock, I say-"

Yet the young lady did not require my defense.

"A theft brings me here, Mr. Holmes."
"And what has been stolen?"

"A pendant of mine, a gift from my father for my coming out."

"And where were you when you realized the pendant was missing?," he asked.

"In my room, of course."

"And you don't suspect your lady's maid?"

"Travers? She would never do such a thing."

"Then it was one of the housemaids. Simple."

"Yes, it was so simple that one of the housemaids used a lock-picking kit."

He eyed her curiously. "You really ought to screen your housemaids better."

The lady eyed my friend back, never afraid to meet his gaze though he stood a head above her. "I've never seen someone so unwilling to work especially when you consider the fee I am prepared to pay."

"Your fee doesn't interest me. All I care about is the game and I hardly think looking for some trinket is much of a challenge. I can't be moved by material concerns."

"And what is the fee?," I asked to my friend's dismay. Married life had its expenses, after all. "Not that I can be moved by material concerns, either."

"Ten percent of the value of the item recovered is customary, I believe," she answered coolly. "Is a thousand pounds amenable to you?"

My friend turned back, abandoning his experiment. "Your pendant is worth ten-thousand pounds?"

"Does that make it more enticing? I thought material concerns didn't interest you, Mr. Holmes."

"They don't, but you haven't told your father a ten-thousand pound piece of jewelry has been stolen from you. That interests me a great deal. Why would you not tell him? Surely he has his own men for this sort of thing."

"Indeed he does, but they're hardly an imaginative sort. I thought perhaps you could handle it."

"So it was a man?"

No implication of scandal seemed to effect her. She returned his slander with a smile. "There was no man. If there was, I assure you, I would have had my father take care of it."

"You would surrender a lover to the mercies of the Earl of Talamh?"

"I have taken no lovers and if I had and he had stolen from me, I do believe that would be an end to the affair."

"Then why not surrender the thief to him now?"

"I have the idea it might be someone who needed the money," said Lady Beatrice. "My father's a fair man, but he's not to be toyed with. I would only ask that the pendant be recovered. Do you think yourself capable of that, Mr. Holmes?"


"Ten pounds?," asked Beatrice. "Seriously?"

John stood next to her as they stood in the queue for the Sherlock Holmes Museum located at 221B Baker Street. Belle and Gold were behind them.

"It's no matter, sweetheart," said Gold. "You know that."

"I'm just saying, you look at prices and think they're cheap but then you've paid eight dollars for a mocha." Beatrice motioned at John. "Besides, he really should be getting in for free. There's got to be some sort of 'I am John Watson' discount."

"I am not John Watson."

"Check again."

They walked inside, doing their best to ignore their costumed tour guides.

"Dad..." said Beatrice, pulling him aside once they got to the room set up to look like Holmes' parlor.

She watched him do that far off stare he got and then he looked back at her, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart."

"But it's 221B..." Beatrice looked up at her father in exasperation. "No, not from the show, but I doubt Joseph hid anything on a soundstage in Wales."

She stalked outside and Gold followed.

"Sweetheart?"

"Why didn't he make it easy to figure out?"

"This is only the first stop. Perhaps it's somewhere else."

"I don't even know what I'm looking for," she exclaimed, pulling her copy of The Adventure of the Gold Pendant from her red messenger bag. "This whole book is supposed to be so I can find a clue and I can't figure it out. What is the point?!"

"Beatrice..." He put his hand over the one of hers that was frantically flipping through the book. She looked up at him and his crooked smile. "Do you think the first way I found to your brother worked?"

"I'm guessing no."

"That's right. And if it had, I never would have met your mother or had you. You will find your way to Joseph and it will be exactly as it was meant to happen."

She shook her head. "And the reason we can't skip to that part?"

"Why do you have to be so hard on yourself?" He shook his head. "Always. Since you were a little girl, you have been so hard on yourself."

John and Belle returned.

"Everything alright?," asked John.

"Sure," Beatrice lied.

"Aunt Nellie rang. She says she's gotten permission for us to go to the house they used for the MacAuriels on Sherlock. It's in the countryside and it's a private house so we have to go now."


Lady Talamh's winter ball was a highlight of the London social calendar. We stood in the receiving line for well over an hour until we were announced by the Earl's footman.

Though he feigned ignorance, my friend was not unaffected by Lady Beatrice's appearance.

Lady Talamh was most gracious in her greeting. "Why Mr. Holmes, this is a treat."

"More like a surprise," said the Earl himself, revealing himself to be a surly sort as the Scotch often are. "I didn't realize Mr. Holmes was on the guest list."

Lady Beatrice seemed unaffected by her father's displeasure. "I invited him, Papa."

"And why would you have done a thing like that?" The man seemed almost stricken now, concerned as any father would have been at his unmarried daughter having taken an interest in my friend.

"I happened to meet Mr. Holmes in town. Of course we've all read Doctor Watson's description of their exploits. I thought you wouldn't mind."

"Isn't Lord MacAuriel here?," Sherlock inquired.

"No," said the Earl. "I'm afraid not. My son's business keeps him in America."

"What a shame," said Mrs. Watson.

"Of course we miss him terribly," said Lady Talamh, "but we hate to have him on an ocean voyage this time of year."

Beatrice grew frustrated as they made their way through the house.


"Seriously. Nothing. Magical. In here."

The housekeeper, a Jamaican woman looked at John with concern.

"What does she mean magical?"

"She's just been under a lot of pressure, that's all."

Beatrice turned to the housekeeper. "They filmed everything from the ball here? Lady Beatrice's room is here?"

"Yes."

John considered. "Is there any part of the house that's been changed since 1914? Perhaps something damaged in the war?"

"The stables."

"Great. The stables," said Beatrice. "Which aren't even mentioned in the book or on the special."

"I think you might be taking this Setlock thing a bit too seriously. My daughter's the same way," said the woman, looking sympathetically at Gold. "I had to keep her off tumblr for a week."

"I have tried and failed," said Gold.

Merlin found Belle in the rose garden.

"Penny for your thoughts."

Belle shook her head at her father. "I'm just reading."

"You haven't turned the page in five minutes," said Merlin, sitting on the bench next to his daughter. "Don't try to fool me."

Belle frowned, stuffing the book in her bag.

"I'm worried."

"About what? We're on the right track."

"That's just it," said Belle. Merlin shrugged at her questioningly. Belle turned closer. "She has been grieving someone who's not dead."

"Which is a good thing."

"It is a wonderful thing, but Beatrice's grief was real. She loved him and she lost him, it tore apart her life, her soul. That's not just going to go away because he's back." She shook her head. "I don't want her to think that everything is just solved by this because I don't want her to be disappointed in her happy ending."

Merlin shook his head. "True Love is not an ending, it's just a beginning. Which you well know."

"Was it for you?"

Merlin took a deep breath.

"I got you."

The other three emerged.

"We should go," said John.

"Nothing?," Belle asked, standing to give Beatrice a squeeze.

"No and apparently the housekeeper used to live in Scotland and wanted to know where Dad was from and since he couldn't name any Scottish cities..." said Beatrice.

"Which is odd if you've ever seen a map," said John. He paused and looked at Belle. "Do you actually know anything about Australia?"

"I read."


The car brought them back to London and to the house where John stayed with Nellie and Hector.

"Auntie!," called John.

"In the kitchen!"

John motioned for them to follow. They walked into the kitchen.

"Roast is in the oven," said Nellie. She was chopping vegetables for a salad.

"No revelations at the estate?," asked Hector.

"Sadly not," said Gold.

Nellie looked pointedly at her nephew. "John, what are you just standing around for? We have guests. Take their coats, get them drinks."

John rolled his eyes and turned back to the Golds and Merlin. "Can I take your coats?"

They obliged.

"I heard apples were forbidden for dessert so we have pear tart," said Hector.

"That sounds wonderful," said Belle. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

He shook his head. "Oh, no, make yourself comfortable. You're our guests."

Kate and Chloe came running in.

"You came!"

"What?," asked Beatrice.

"Come on!," said Kate, dragging her off.

"Scotch?," asked Hector. "Merlin? Mister..."

Belle smiled, patting her husband on the arm. "Rumple is fine with family."

"Right, Rumple, the bar is this way."

Nellie smiled at Belle. She motioned with her free hand at a bottle of wine on the counter.

"Red wine if you like."

"Thank you," said Belle. "I think I will."

Belle poured herself a glass, content to sip as her hostess continued to prepare dinner.

"Do you know Joseph's family very well?," Nellie asked. Belle looked at her inquisitively. "Sherlock's family?"

Belle nodded. "I know them a little. They lived in Edelweiss, that's the village Rumple was lord of back in our land. They were scholars, his uncle ran the library. He has two brothers, we met when he was a little boy. I nearly forgot, he has a little sister now. She's four. His mother used to work with me at the library."

"Used to?," asked Nellie.

"We had a difference of opinion about Beatrice," said Belle.

"Oh."

"She objects to the relationship between the two of them."

"And why is that?"

Belle shrugged. "She wants him to be safe and thinks Beatrice is dangerous."

Nellie scoffed. "She must not know Joseph terribly well then."


1914

Jenna looked up at Doyle.

"Does Miss Holmes approve?"

"What's this plot with Lady Hartmill?," she asked.

"Where are you?," asked Louise.

"It's a bit towards the end," said Jenna.

"How fast do you read?," Joseph asked offended.

"Never mind that. Lady Hartmill, whose first husband dies under mysterious circumstances, in love with a thief... Where did that come from? We didn't suggest that?"

"Where?," asked Joseph, glancing at Jenna's pages and going to them in his copy.

Doyle shrugged. "I don't know. I just had the notion."

"Regina..." said Joseph with an air of contempt.

"Who's Regina?," asked Barrie.

"My uncle's adopted mother," said Jenna. She looked at Joseph. "Do you really think she'd do something?"

Joseph frowned at her. "Dare I ask what future exists where you don't think Regina is capable of pursuing her own interests while everyone else suffers?"

"Well, yeah, there was that one time..." said Louise. "And then all the others."

"What shall you do?," asked Barrie.

"What can we do? I don't have another alternative. Unless you two happen to know where we can get a portal or a time travel spell?"

"Not without a lot of help," said Jenna.

Joseph nodded. "I thought not. Off to see Somerset, then."


Present

"Use your ice powers," Kate said to Beatrice.

Beatrice looked up. "What?"

"Kate, you can't command people to use their magical powers," said John. He shook his head. "This is my life now."

"Do you know Elsa?," asked Chloe.

"I know her aunt."

"There's no aunt in Frozen," said Kate.

"That's because the rock trolls made everyone forget about her," said Beatrice.

"Do you want to build a snowman?," Chloe sang.

"No, thanks, I already have one..." Beatrice sang back.

"You have a snowman!," Kate exclaimed. "That's not fair!"

Beatrice looked up at the TV. The Sherlock special was playing again.

"Do you guys just watch this?"

John glanced up and shook his head. "On a loop."

Beatrice stopped and looked up. It was the scene with Lady Beatrice and Sherlock sneaking off to her room to see the site of the theft.

Then she saw something.

"Wait, what was that? Where's your remote?"

John helped her dig through the toys on the tea table and she rewound it. Sherlock paused in front of a door. Beatrice hit pause on the remote.

"What are we looking at?"

"That door."

John looked.

"It's a door."

"Yeah, but look at what's on the door."

John looked at it.

"It's a rose with a vine."

"It's the dagger."

"What dagger?"

Beatrice turned. "Oh, yeah, my dad has this dagger and it's magical and sometimes it controls him."

John nodded. "That sounds terrifying."

"Yeah, anyway." Beatrice walked over and pointed at the screen. "That's his dagger. That's the stem of a rose."

"I don't understand."

"Beauty and the Beast!," Chloe implored.

"Though that did turn out to be this guy..." said Beatrice.

"So, wait, you think that's a message?"

"Yeah," said Beatrice. She went back to her bag and pulled out the pendant, putting it in place at the top of the rose stem on the screen.

"Is it a portal?," asked Kate.

Beatrice looked down.

"Like in your storybook," said Chloe, retrieving the item from under a pile of stuffed animals.

She quickly found the page. Beatrice looked at it, then back at the screen.

"What is it?," asked John.

"These doors go to different places, different lands. Like Oz and Wonderland and this door must lead to somewhere."

"Yeah, but we went to the house and there definitely wasn't a door like that."

"We just have to find the door."

"Well, what's it doing on telly?"


Regina entered her hotel room after tying one on with Cruella and was shocked to find someone waiting.

"Who are you?"

He shrugged. "I think you might want to put your hands down. I don't want to end up in a crisp."

"You know who I am?"

"Indeed I do. Regina. The Evil Queen. You're quite a fascinating character."

"You?," Regina sneered. "You're the Author?"

"No, no, no. I'm one his assistants. Kind of a staff writer. My name is Isaac."

Regina frowned. "Staff writer?"

"You see the Author has a lot of hands in a lot of baskets and he can't always get to them himself. That's where I come in. And you."

"Me?" Regina sat down across from Isaac. "What do you mean?"

"The offer Moriarty made you. Your help in exchange for your happy ending. I can write that for you so long as you agree to certain... conditions."

"What kind of conditions?"

"Moriarty needs your help."


Nellie made a call and they sat for dinner. Kate and Chloe sat on either side of Belle.

"What do you mean you're not a princess?," Kate demanded. "Belle is a princess."

"Well, I never had a kingdom," said Belle. "My grandmother was a princess, though, and she ruled the Far North Kingdom for many years."

Kate turned to Gold.

"What happened to your scales? Did you shed them?"

"Kate, it's rude to ask people if they shed," said Hector.

There was a knock at the door.

"Ah, that should be our guests."

"What guests?," asked Chloe.

"Never you mind. Hector, stay with them. Everyone else with me."

They followed Nellie to the front hall. Somerset was waiting on the doorstep.

"Good evening, Mrs. Gillette."

"Good evening, Mr. Somerset."

"I have what you asked for."

He stepped inside and motioned for the figures in the street to follow him. Beatrice gasped as the two men entered.

It was Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat.

"Oh, my God," said Beatrice. Her grandfather was closest and she went to grip his arm. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God..."

Gold looked at her in concern because Beatrice was clearly having some sort of fit. "Sweetheart?"

Nellie motioned. "Mr. Moffat, Mr. Gatiss, this is Miss Gold."

"Oh, my God," said Beatrice.

Gold twisted his face, unimpressed by the man before him. "Him? He's the sadist?"

Nelle turned to the men. "Pursuant to your earlier agreement, you are to keep this secret and now you are to answer any questions this young lady puts to you."

Mark Gatiss shook his head. "Are we in your house?"

"I'm sorry," said Beatrice. "I just want to be clear. You have dragged Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffat to your house and they have to answer anything I ask? They can't just say spoilers?"

Steven looked at Nellie. "What?"

"And he can't lie?," asked Beatrice.

He caught the gleam in Beatrice's eye and looked somewhat frightened.

"Who is she?," Steven asked, looking at back at Nellie.

"Well, do you remember when I mentioned Sherlock Holmes was with his girlfriend in Maine?"

"She's the girlfriend?," asked Mark.

"Yes," said Nellie.

"And can I just say I really like Robot of Sherwood," said Beatrice.

"Thank you."

"But when you use time travel to reunite Robin Hood and Maid Marian that is totally not what happens."

He stared at Beatrice for a good long while.

"Are you being serious?"

"I am being completely serious."

He shook his head. "I'm going to regret asking this, I can tell. What does happen when you use time travel to reunite Robin Hood and Maid Marian?"

"The Evil Queen gets mad at you because Tinker Bell told her Robin Hood was her soul mate and even though she's known the guy like two weeks at best she tries to sell you out to the Snow Queen."

Mark stared at her. He turned to Steven and they exchanged a silent look of worry.

"Beatrice, you had a question, I believe," said Nellie.

"When's Series Four?"

"This is where you're starting?," asked Merlin.

"If they don't tell me the truth on that, how am I supposed to believe them about anything else?"

Mark Gatiss sighed. "We start filming in late March."

"How did Moriarty survive?"

"Beatrice!," exclaimed John.

"He shot himself in the head and now he's back! I want to know!" Beatrice paused. "And also that information could be useful to me someday."

"How?," asked Steven Moffat.

"You don't know my life."

"Why don't we start with the thing you actually wanted to know about?," asked John.

"I want to know a lot of things."

"Or this," said John. He brought out Beatrice's iPad and handed it to Moffat. "The design on the door? Where did you get that from?"

Gatiss looked over his shoulder.

"Oh, Alwen did that," he remarked.

"Yes, but where did he get it from?," asked Beatrice.

"It was in the book she showed us. I took a photo," said Mark.

"What book?," John asked, turning to Nellie.

"You weren't supposed to take any photos," said Nellie.

"Do you have the photo?," asked Beatrice.

"I suppose." Gatiss pulled out a phone and fidgeted through it until he reached what he was looking for and handed it to Beatrice.

She turned to her dad. He took the phone and looked. Then Gold looked up at Beatrice and smiled.

"That's it?"

"Indeed it is."

"So, this is from the original book?," asked Belle.

"Yes, the copy bequeathed to the ministry," said Nellie.

"Sorry. What's going on?," asked Steven.

"Long story short, well, all the stories you have ever read- or in your case written- come from another world," said Merlin. "The important details bleed over, in this case, the location of Sherlock Holmes."

"And who are you?"

"Merlin."

"Right..."

"I still have some questions," said Beatrice.

The two writers stared at her.

"Is the Doctor going to find Gallifrey? Because it seems like if Clara could navigate the TARDIS to it, that really would be something that the Doctor would like to know. It just seems like he would want to know that."

"Are we done here?," asked Somerset having finished his drink.

"I think so," said Nellie.

"Wait a minute, I'm never going to have this much power again," said Beatrice.

"Power?," John demanded. "You freeze things with your hands."

"No, I freeze things with my emotions. I direct where with my hands."

"Where is the book?," asked Belle.

"Back at the ministry," said Somerset.


1914

They entered the vault. Somerset was waiting with the book.

"Is it finished?," asked Joseph.

"Nearly," said Somerset.

He presented the book to Jenna. It now said in gilded letters "The Adventure of the Gold Pendant." She flipped through the pages as it told the tale with illustrations. She found the blank page.

"Right where you asked for it," said Somerset.

"Yes. Thank you."

"Have you done this sort of magic before?"

"Not as such..." said Jenna. "I've seen it done."

"Seen it done?," asked Joseph.

Jenna looked back at Joseph. "There hasn't exactly been a lot of call for this sort of thing."

"Shall we go over the final instructions?," asked Somerset.

"I suppose so," said Joseph.

Somerset took out a notebook bearing the crown seal.

"Our proposed publication date is sometime in the summer of 2014. We need to contact two writers called Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss..."

"Who's Steven Moffat?," asked Doyle.

"He would be so sad to hear you say that..." said Jenna.

"You are going to be found by John Watson-Gillette-"

He was interrupted by the tolling of a bell.

"What's that?," asked Louise.

Somerset drew a revolver and went to the hall.

"It's Facilier, sir! He's gotten out!"

Somerset came back in.

"Your trick with the book, you ought to do it now."

Jenna nervously took off her pendant.

"What are you doing?," asked Barrie.

She handed it off to Somerset. "This is the key. You have to give it to Beatrice Gold."

She turned to Joseph and Louise.

"You ready?"

"To be stuck in a book for a hundred years?" Louise shrugged. "Yeah, why not?"

Joseph nodded. Jenna closed her eyes and with one sweep of the hand, they disappeared in a white light that flew towards the blank page.

The three men hurried over and saw the page was no longer blank, but contained a sketch of a door with a rose stem around a dagger.

Before they could react, the door burst open. Facilier entered wielding magic as Somerset fired his weapon.


Present

Moriarty looked up as the door to his cell slid open. Regina waited.

"Well, well, Your Majesty, I've been waiting."

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting."

"Right," said Moriarty, getting up and walking towards her. He cast a glance at the unconscious guard. "Your happy ending."

They walked out into the corridor. Moriarty seemed headed in one direction.

"And where are we going?"

"To the vault, Your Majesty. There's a book I've been meaning to read."


1914

Somerset opened his eyes.

The guard in front of him gasped.

"Sir!"

"What are you looking at me like that for?"

"You were dead," said Doyle. He looked at Barrie. "He was dead."

Barrie just shruffed.

"What happened?," Somerset demanded.

"Facilier's escaped," said the guard.

Somerset struggled to his feet.

"We managed to stop him taking this, sir," said the guard, handing over the book.

Somerset frowned at the tome.

"The Adventure of the Gold Pendant? What the hell is this?"

He felt in his pocket, finding the rose pendant and saw instructions in his hand on the floor.

He looked to Barrie and Doyle.

"Do you remember what happened?"

"Not as such, no," said Barrie. "Nothing after we arrived at this room."

"We think Facilier must have cast a spell," offered the guard.

"But what about the book?"

Doyle shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no idea what it was for."

"Right..." said Somerset, looking at the book and the instructions. "I'm sure it wasn't important at all."