It was a perfect spring day, despite the cloudiness. The cherry blossom tree on the corner of Baker and Paddington was in full bloom, pink, crinoline-like blossoms whispering in the breeze. Winter had the evanescence of the morning mist.

I was about to walk up to the front door when I bumped into someone a good head taller than me. I had forgotten to zip my laptop bag. All my papers, including a study on the medical benefits of cranberries that I didn't know I still had-went flying.

"Oh, my goodness, I am so sorry," said the bloke sprawled all over the pavement.

"No, that's…fine," I replied to thin air. He had already walked off.

Well, that's London for you.

I started to gather up the pile of papers, wincing slightly as my leg protested being in such a convoluted position for more than a minute.

"Need some help there?" said a voice from somewhere above me.

"Er…yeah, thanks," I said gratefully. The man-he had a shock of red-brown hair, looked young and naïve, probably a college student by the look of his glasses- gathered the explosion of file folders until I had a somewhat manageable pile. It was heavier than I expected.

I looked up. Oh, hell, it's going to rain, I thought. My leg gave a little twinge of pain and I gasped involuntarily.

"How about I help you carry these in?" said the stranger, watching me with an unusual amount of concern for someone I didn't even know. He had an American accent (that explained it), but he probably had moved here recently, as he was carrying groceries.

Part of me wanted to insist that I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, but caution won out over pride in the end. I really didn't want to trip carrying a laptop up the stairs. "That would be great."

Mrs. Hudson was out. We made it to the landing before I turned around and started to say, "Thanks, I can take it from-"

Then I stopped. Because the wig, the glasses, the bag of groceries, and the colored contacts were lying on the floor, and in their place was someone I hadn't seen for a very long time.

"You don't mind if I stretch my legs a little, do you?" said Sherlock Holmes, dropping the American accent. "It was a long flight from New York and I've got terrible jet lag."

I've never fainted before in my life, but I dimly remember thinking, ah, so this is what it feels like, before the world faded to black.