Disclaimer: I am not Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. This is merely my own flight of fancy.

A/N: Thanks for the reviews! And I've only been to London once, so forgive any geographical errors.

The Game is a Footprint!

My first instinct was to recall all of the various lessons Holmes had ever given me when it came to tracking a criminal. Of all the insight he had given me he had also allowed me clues as to how to avoid detection. I took alternate routes over my usual trails, and walked near groups rather than on my own. Any passerby who might recognize me and give Holmes clues as to my whereabouts were ignored. Although it might risk a slight offence it was necessary to make my 'escape'.

Next, I focused on where in London I would make my final destination. As Holmes had pointed out earlier, he knew most of the haunts I was likely to go. The many parks where I might hide were also too dangerous to go, as natural earth would be far more difficult to disguise. What I needed to do was stick to paved roads, where answers would be unyielding.

I continued walking as I considered where to actually go. Occasionally I changed my stride, an attempt to further disguise myself from Holmes. I was well aware that it had been nearly half an hour since I had left Baker Street, and I very well could have the world's greatest unofficial consulting detective hot on my heels. The very idea spurred me on to go faster and farther.

When I had earlier passed the British Museum, I had quickly darted up the main steps. After waiting a short time I departed, although with my coat adjusted and my gait shifted. Leicester Square had proved another chance to confuse any witnesses by pretending to head further South while I actually went towards the East. Should Holmes make any interviews, the local shop owners would no doubt tell that I had gone towards the Thames.

That had been quite some time ago, and I decided that I needed to throw in another twist to get Holmes off the correct path. I had to try to think of what Holmes would think in this situation. Then, I had to do the opposite. There was no denying that no one knew my thoughts better than Holmes, and that meant I couldn't do what he would expect of me. After taking a few quick turns I saw a golden opportunity: a brick wall. Several crates had been haphazardly piled along it, providing a perfect set of steps. I knew Holmes would never suspect that I would hop a wall, so I decided that I must.

I was careful to make sure that no one saw me. Aside from giving me away, there was a slight chance that someone might call the police upon seeing a grown man scampering over a wall. If anyone had seen me I haven't the slightest idea what I would have told them in explanation. Fortunately, there was no need for false pretenses as I managed to haul myself over fast enough that I was unseen.

Dropping heavily on the other side, I took a few moments to get my bearings. I'd had a general idea as to where I was before, but now I was a little uncertain. If I was correct, this was the Towers Hamlet Cemetery. I had once been here for a funeral, yet I was not entirely sure where I was in relation to the main entrance that I had taken on that somber day. I knew well enough that following the wall would eventually lead me to an exit, so I headed along the stony barrier between the living and dead.

After walking for some time I began to worry that I was headed in the wrong direction. The wall formed a sharp turn a slight ways ahead, and I was unsure whether to follow the new one or turn back on the old. I debated for a moment before continuing on the path I had already started. It would hardly be fun to walk back down the same path I had taken for the past few minutes. The explorer in me wanted to go further into the unknown, and I was more than happy to oblige my wandering feet. I didn't know whether it was the sense of adventure or childishness, but my old war wound hadn't bothered me in the slightest in nearly an hour of walking and climbing. If nothing else, that small relief made my day entirely worth it.

Ahead of me I could make out a bench nestled between two trees. I stepped away from the wall to rest on it, deciding that if Holmes were to overtake me that I might as well be rested for the return journey to Baker Street. I checked my watch and was surprised to see just how much time had passed since I'd entered the cemetery. Between the leaves I could make out the faintest tinges of pink in the sky, a sign that my afternoon game had entered into the beginnings of evening. Although I didn't want Holmes to find me easily, I found myself wishing that he would appear so that I wouldn't have to make the journey back alone and through the dark. Yet if I had earlier offended Holmes and he never materialized then it might prove a very unpleasant trek back.

The minutes began to pass more slowly, and I let myself relax.

That is, until I heard a scream emanating from the center of the cemetery.


A/N: I don't think I've ever written an entire chapter without dialogue…Weird…