Prompt from YoughaltheJust: Holmes and Watson run into an old friend

Catching Up

"Watson!" Holmes exclaimed, grabbing his old friend by the arm.

"What?" Watson said, instantly on the alert and scanning the crowded London thoroughfare. A month had passed since the armistice and the citizens were just starting to realize they might have a merry Christmas this year. "What is it, Holmes?"

"Look there!" said Holmes, pointing a long finger at a middle-aged man in a cavalry uniform and greatcoat. "I recognize that face."

"Do you?" Watson peered more intently. "He is familiar. A cavalryman?"

"Back from North Africa, I believe," said Holmes. "I am certain I know him."

"He's seen us, Holmes," said Watson.

"And he is certain he knows us," Holmes said, nodding. "Look. He approaches."

The man crossed the street, leaning heavily on his cane, a smile creasing his face.

"I beg your pardon, gentlemen," said he. "Are you Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson?"

"Wiggins?" Holmes face broke into an expression of wonder and delight. "Wiggins! My God! It is you!"

"Indeed, sir!" laughed the cavalryman. "I'd heard you retired, sir. And Doctor! So good to see you both!"

"Well, it has been years!" cried Watson, extending his hand in greeting. "Wonderful to see you again! I'd heard you went into the army."

"The cavalry, sir," said Wiggins. "Color Sergeant."

"Color Sergeant Wiggins," Watson said, pleased and grinning.

"Soon to be former Color Sergeant Wiggins, actually." He tapped his leg with his cane and shook his head. "Had my horse shot from under me in an ambush last year. I was invalided home in May. With the war over, I'll be out soon."

"Regrettable," said Holmes. "What will you do?"

"I've some set aside, Mr. Holmes," Wiggins said. "My wife has been working while I was gone, too. A seamstress at a lady's shop. So, there's a little more. And old Inspector Hopkins has a place for me on the force. He's put in a word or three and I'll be joining as soon as my discharge papers come through. There's more to it than that, but he wants me as an inspector."

"You?" Watson said, his grin broadening. "An inspector?"

"Aye! I know it," Wiggins said with a laugh. "Me what got nicked for picking pockets and all. That's years ago and Mr. Hopkins said it would be useful for me in his field. He says my army record is in my favor and my association with Mr. Holmes, as well."

"Charlie! There you are!" called a woman with three children in tow as she hurried across the street. "I thought you were going to wait for us."

"Ah Belle! Just in time!" Cried Wiggins. "I want you to meet two men that helped make me what I am today?"

The woman was perhaps ten years younger than Wiggins, dark of hair and blue of eye; she was pretty rather than beautiful. Her smile was lively and genuine as she turned to look up at the tall detective and the robust doctor at his side.

"This is Mr. Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson," said Wiggins and turned to face them. "Gentlemen, this is my wife, Belle."

Watson and Holmes expressed their pleasure in meeting the wife of their old friend and then looked inquisitively to the children. Wiggins blushed a bit sheepishly.

"Here's my oldest, Sherlock," he said, placing his hand on the lad's shoulder. "And this one is John," he said, indicating the second boy.

"And, this is Mary," Belle said, bring the girl around with a hand on her back.

"Mary?" Watson breathed.

"Hope you don't mind, sirs," Wiggins said. "Named for you. I would have asked, only there never seemed the right time."

"Of course, we do not mind!" Holmes said stoutly, giving Watson time to collect himself. "Have you and your family eaten lunch yet?"

"No sir," Belle said immediately. "That's just what we were about to do now that I've finished my shopping."

"The Strand is the next street over," said Holmes. "Watson and I were just going to Simpson's for old times' sake. We reserved a table yesterday. Please, come and join us. This seems an occasion for celebration."

"Indeed," agreed Watson. "Please do join us. I want to hear more of your adventures."

With light hearts and many laughs, especially among the children, the old friends caught up over a large meal. Simpson's was as good as ever, the wait staff as courteous as could be asked and the food both plentiful and delicious. The afternoon was upon them and young Mary nearly asleep when finally, Holmes had to depart for his train and the celebration drew to a close.

On the sidewalk outside, Watson engaged Belle and the children in conversation, giving Holmes a quiet moment with Wiggins.

"I am so proud of you, my boy," Holmes said in a tone as close to fatherly as he was ever likely to achieve. "You did exceedingly well. So very good to have run into you after all these years."

"Thank you, sir," Wiggins said and looked away, wiping something from his eye. "You'll let me know whenever you come to London?"

"Count on it," Holmes said firmly. "And in your new career, if ever an old hound such as myself can put you on the right scent, contact me without hesitation."

"I will," Wiggins said and stepped back, snapped to attention and saluted crisply as he had done so many years ago in the flat on Baker Street. "Take care, Mr. Holmes."

Holmes nodded and was joined a moment later by Watson. The old friends waved their goodbyes as the family made their way down the street and were eventually lost in the crowd.

"Did you know his name was Charlie?" Watson asked, still smiling.

Holmes shook his head.

"To me, he was always Wiggins," said Holmes, smiling. "Come, Watson. Walk me to my train. You'll join me next week?"

"Of course, I will," said Watson, giving one last glance at the family. Turning away, he murmured, "Named her Mary."