*Many months had passed since he had faked his death at the hands of James Moriarty, but the time had finally come to end the lies surrounding his demise. Recently, he had Watson publish an article in the London Newspapers citing what had occurred, as well as that his detective services were back in operation. He had left out a few details here and there of course, but there was no need to sensationalize it.

Now that he was currently residing at 221 Baker Street once more, he could finally feel at home after so long on the run. Mrs. Hudson had made quick work of making sure he had regained his previous health, of which he had been lacking to the point where she had remarked that he appeared as if a ghost. Watson too, had been working around the clock to insure his dear friend’s well-being.

“I truly do not know what I would do without you, my dear Watson.” *Holmes remarked as they breakfasted one morning. “Nor do I know how you keep writing those stories of yours. 10 of them in a matter of weeks is really a bit much, don’t you think?”