A/N: I was going through some papers from last year and I found this story. I had watched Granada's Sign of Four and then written it, so I'm not sure how accurate it is to canon. Enjoy!
(Anyone have a better idea for a title?)
"Well, good night Dr. Watson," she looked at him with a gentle look in her eye, something soft. "Mr. Holmes." She curtsied and left. Watson watched her walk out of the room with regret on his face. He turned to Holmes. His friend was looking at him with pity.
"You, sir, are an idiot."
"I beg your pardon!" Watson was astonished. "Holmes, really!"
"Yes, really." Watson opened his mouth to say something, but Holmes held up his hand and cut him off. "Don't stop me now, Watson. I've got something to say and it may well be the only time I'll say I, so listen closely. You are my best friend, a brother to me. I cherish your company and assistance. But you are not meant to live your life as a bachelor, dear Watson. That woman who just walked out is going to be your wife; I can see it in your eyes. The one thing that had been standing in the way of your blessed union was the Agra treasure. Now it is gone, lost at the bottom of the river, and yet you just stand here, looking after her. Don't be a fool, Doctor. Go get her. I shall dearly miss your company, old fellow, but I'm sure she will be delighted with it. I shall never say that again, so don't ask me to. I do hope that this never makes it into one of your stories in The Strand." He stopped with a grimace on his face.
"I think I can safely promise you that." Watson was in a daze. Had Holmes really just said that to him?
"I—" Holmes cut him off again.
"Now is not the time for words, dear Watson; that is later. For now, if you get a cab quickly, you should be able to get to her before her train leaves."
"Oh, yes, yes," Watson looked quickly at his watch. "Eight minutes. Thank you, Holmes!" Watson hurried out of the building and caught a cab in the street. "Paddington Station, cabbie, and an extra crown if you do it in five minutes!"
The cabbie got his crown.
Watson searched frantically for Miss Morstan at the station. He saw her just as she was preparing to get in the car. "Miss Morstan! Miss Morstan! Mary!" He called. At the last, she turned and saw him, a brilliant smile finding its home on her face.
"Doctor Watson! Whatever are you doing here?"
Watson tried to catch his breath as he came to a halt in front of her. "I was wondering, that is, if I may, could I, perhaps, come to call on you at Mrs. Forrester's?" He waited anxiously for her answer.
Her smile grew even wider. "Yes, why yes of course!" The train began to move. "Oh, why I do believe I've missed it! And all my bags on it already! Mrs. Forrester will be frantic!"
"Never fear!" Watson grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction the train was going. As it began to gather speed, they caught up to the stairs and a porter was there to help her onto the train.
"Oh, thank you, Doctor!" she called as she waved.
Watson waved back until the train disappeared out of sight. He turned, grinning, and saw Holmes on the clearing platform. His friend was watching him with a bemused expression. "So she actually likes you, does she?"
"You mean you weren't sure?"
"Of course not! You think I know anything about romance? How on earth do you think I would be able to tell if she was favorable to you at all?"
Watson just shook his head. "At least it all worked out for the best."
"So does this mean I shall have to pay the rent on my own from now on?"
The doctor looked after the train disappearing in the distance. "I hope so, but not for a while." He turned back to the detective. "Let's go home."
The two men linked arms and strolled away from the platform into the bustling heart of London.