The hallway leading to our room was so long, that we could have ran the whole way there and it would have counted as a marathon, well, that is if we had enough energy to do so in the first place, all we could do was drag our tired bodies along the plain brown carpet, all the way down the hall. Once in a while, we would bump into each other and it sent tiny electrical shocks though our bodies. It looked like it had been cleaned recently, and the smell of cleaning supplies still hung in the air.

I was so tired, that I could have collapsed on the floor and slept, but I knew that we were almost at our room now, so I trudged on for a as the door opened and I stepped inside, I sighed with relief. The room was quite fancy compared to the lobby, and I was more than eager to rest my legs, and the rest of me. I took off my hat and coat and hung them up in the closet, then I walked over and flopped down onto the queen-size bed, spreading my arms out. "I don't know if I really want to share this bed, it's too comfortable." I teased, grabbing a pillow from behind me and hugging it.

"Well, you're going to have to," said Jane in a serious tone. "And if you two are going to start fighting, you'll both be sleeping on the floor and Simza will get the third bed."

"Doesn't sound so bad to me," she joked, hanging her coat up next to mine.

"Yes, mother," I mumbled, then slid off the bed and stepped into the small bathroom; it had been a long time since I had bathed and was in need of a good scrubbing. There was a tub in here, a little bit bigger than the one I had at home, in fact, it was big enough for two people to take a bath in. I found myself laughing at the most unimaginable thought that popped into my head and as I locked the door behind me, it took me a while to recover myself enough to focus.

I started to take off my clothes, hanging them on the little hook, it was a bit of a shock since there was a chilly breeze coming in through the window.

Who has a window in the bathroom, anyways?

I went to shut it, as well as the curtains and I was thankful that it was nighttime, should someone peek in and see me wearing nothing at all.

I bent over to reach the tap. I wanted to make sure that it was just the right temperature before I stepped in. I didn't like the water to be too cold, or too hot, just lukewarm. Once it was exactly the way I wanted it, I stepped in, taking a long and relaxing breath as the water released the tension in my muscles. I actually sat in the tub for a moment, just taking a bit of time to enjoy it and meditate before I began scrubbing myself down with one of the hopefully clean sponges. I managed to get rid of some of the dirt and grime from my arms, legs and neck. I probably smelled like sweat before, though everyone else was polite enough to not tell me so.

As usual, I let my thoughts wander. I hoped that Mother and Father were managing alright without us, a few weeks before we were supposed to leave, I told them that they should take a solo trip, a romantic getaway, just the two of them. They did mention how they'd always wanted to go to Italy like they did for their honeymoon, and they seriously considered it, well, Father seemed to at least. They would probably be worried sick about us once we came back home.

If we ever do get home.

This mission was dangerous, and there was a slim chance that one of us could die, and that was something I didn't want to think about right now.

Then I thought about what things would be like once I returned home. Chances are, my parents would try to marry me off to some snobby, rich suitor, or maybe, just maybe, I could convince them that I didn't want to marry for money, and instead, I wanted to marry someone I loved, and someone who loved me in return, though convincing my mother to agree on opinions that weren't her own, were no easy feat. Once her mind was made up, that was the end of the discussion, no ifs, ands, or buts about it.

But maybe if I fell in love with someone, I could convince her.

Not that it would happen anytime soon. I brushed the thought aside and as I stepped out of the bath, I looked into the over sized mirror, staring at my bare reflection; the slight curve of my hips, my tiny waist, and the way my small bosoms sat there unmoving. I never had time to even glimpse at my feminine figure before now, to fully appreciate it. I noticed that I had a birthmark on my left hip, and a smaller one on my ankle wondered how my father reacted when he saw my mother like this. I would imagine she was beautiful. For a moment, I was conscious of my body, my heartbeat, my breathing, the goosebumps on my skin from it being exposed to the open air.

I had stood here for so long that I was completely dried off, but I wasn't quite ready to go back into the room yet. The main reason for that was, I didn't have a nightdress to change in, at least not in here with me, and there was no way on Earth that I was going to go out there with nothing but a towel to cover me. But seeing as how they would all probably start banging on the door thinking I had drowned, I grabbed a white towel off of the rack and wrapped it as tightly around me as I could, grabbed my clothes so that they would be ready for tomorrow, then unlocked the door, stepping into the open bedroom.

"You're right, it's perfect," Holmes said, looking up at me. He was sprawled out across the bed, with a wide grin. "I don't think I want to share, either."

Ignoring him, I found my nightdress and then went behind the divider to change. It wasn't quite tall enough to avoid showing a little cleavage in the split second it took me to slip the nightgown over my head and take the pin out of my hair. The wind and the warmth of the bath gave it a more curly look, and I didn't mind that. I came out from behind the divider and took a breath, glad that part was over, then walked to the bed and stood over him with my hands on my hips. "Is that supposed to scare me? Because it's not working." He stared up at the ceiling with his arms folded behind his head.

I huffed, not in the mood to argue and sat on the small gray sofa, finding a book on the coffee table. Someone must have left it behind. It had a smooth velvet cover with the title of the book written in gold letters.

*A Map of the Stars By Theodora Thompson

I got onto the bed and then adjusted the pillows so that I would be more comfortable, then I relaxed and dove into the book.

"I hope you saved some hot water for the rest of us," said Watson from the armchair. He was reading a newspaper underneath the light of a lantern, he turned to Holmes. "You, Mister, need to clean yourself up, look at the state of you. You look as if you've been living in a zoo with the wild animals. And I don't say this to be offensive, but you stink."

Jane and Simza giggled.

"If you insist, Doctor." He pouted and moved from his comfortable spot on the bed and he shuffled past me, "And I think living with animals would be a nice change, they are more intelligent than we think, you know."

"I do know," Watson shook his head. "Look what happens to my poor dog every time you drag him into one of your crazy experiments."

"My experiments aren't crazy. Who knows, one day I will make a fantastic scientific discovery and you'll be wanting to share the glory."

"Will you children please stop arguing. You, take a bath and you, go back to reading the paper." They both glanced over at me, and I raised my eyebrows the same way Mother would. "I mean it, or you'll both be sleeping on the sofa."

"You hear that, Watson? We're sharing the sofa now."

"GET IN THAT ROOM RIGHT NOW, OR ELSE." I whisper-shouted.

"Or else what?" he leaned in closer and I could have slapped him right then and there, but instead, I just shook my head and closed my eyes.

"If you know what's good for you, you'd better listen to her," Simza said, shaking her head and looking through a novel.

"Fine, I'm going," he said, throwing his hands in the air, defeated and slumped away into the bath. "By the way, you smell nice," he remarked before finally leaving and shutting the door.

"Is he always like this?" I asked Watson and he shrugged, answering my question.

Half an hour later, I laid on top of the brown and white sheets, my right leg crossed over my left, with my head against the rectangular pillow and reading the book. If you wondered what it was, it was a romance between Carlin, a poor and orphaned Scotsman from the wrong side of the tracks and Maisie, a wealthy Englishwoman from a well-bred family and their struggles to keep their relationship afloat against the prejudices of her family.

I didn't know how, or even why it even happened, but I somehow pictured Maisie to be like me, and Carlin to be...

No! What is with me today? I must be losing my mind.

I was about to finish the fifth chapter when my gaze involuntarily shifted upward and was glued to the tanned, shirtless man standing on the left side of the bed. It was darned near impossible to deny that Holmes was a well-built man.

"You know, darling, it's impolite to stare," he said, his voice was lower, almost a purr and on his face was a wide, Cheshire Cat grin. My cheeks felt hot but I kept my eyes focused on the book, but I couldn't exactly see what I was reading, first of all the words were small and second, there wasn't enough light in the room to see them.

"Well, you're making hard not to just standing there," I snapped, trying to conceal the blush that was creeping up on me. "You're in my light." He didn't say anything else for a moment, just looked down at me. It was getting irritating. "Don't you have anything better to do than stare at me like you're going to pounce? Why don't you go and find something to entertain yourself."

"You're right." And just like that, he snatched the book out of my hand. I gasped and jumped up.

"Hey! Give that back!" I shouted jumping up to grab it, but he just held it up higher. Curse me for being too short.

"It's quite an interesting story. A little cliché, but-" He swerved out of the way, opening it up to a random page.

"Give it!" I jumped up, but he just brought it behind his back. I tried reaching out to grab it, but I was too slow. There was a smile that threatened to make its way across my face. "And what's so cliché about it? I doubt that you've read anything as good as this." I had only read this book once, but I was speaking so passionately about it that one would think that I had read it hundreds of times.

"I'll have you know that I have read plenty of books, Hamlet, The Count of Monte Cristo, Don Quixote, all fine works. And I know that Watson has been writing a book about me, I would imagine that you would love it," he said with a grin, holding the book out of my reach again just as I thought I had a good grip on it, making me laugh.

"There's something about this Maisie character that intrigues me. She's fiery, charming, witty, smart. Unafraid to fight for the man she loves and what she believes in." Holmes walked over to me and placed the book in my hands, but I was too busy watching the way his eyes scanned me to notice. "She is insecure, afraid to fail, but she shouldn't be. How could she possibly fail the man who loves her, every part of her, the good, the bad and the ugly?"

We were so dangerously close to each other that I could swear he heard my heart beating. "The man is afraid to care for her because he has lost so many people already and can't bear the thought of anything happening to her."

"I think she knows that," I replied. Due to the way his voice softened to barely a whisper, and his eyes traced my face, I had a feeling that we weren't talking about Maisie anymore, but I continued to speak as if we were. "But she also thinks that it's foolish of him to try and keep his distance from her. She would go to the ends of the Earth to be with him."

"And he thinks that it's foolish that she's willing to put her life and reputation at stake to do so." His voice rose a little and my eyes widened.

I had forgotten that there were other people in the room with us until Watson cleared his throat and Jane stepped across the floor towards us. "As much as I would love to see you confessing your love to my sister, we should hit the hay. We'll have to be up bright and early tomorrow morning."

"Jane, It was just getting interesting," said Simza, sighing a little and standing up.

"What are you-" I started.

"We weren't confessing our love, we were merely discussing the thrills of forbidden romance," Holmes said, finally grabbing his white night shirt and slipping it over his shoulders. The neck was deep enough so that I could see a bit of his chest, but it wasn't as overwhelming anymore.

"Mind if I borrow the paper, Watson?" he asked, changing the subject for both our benefits.

"Sure," Watson replied with a nod and handed the paper over. Both gentlemen sat on the chairs and Jane and I got into the beds.

I crawled into the bed, laying my head down on the pillow, feeling sleep taking over me. I felt the bed rock gently as Holmes climbed in next to me, allowing as much personal space as it would allow, but not so much that I would fall right off the bed.

(Another itty bitty timeskip brought to you by Jane and Watson secretly shipping Sherlock and Charlotte. I dunno how Simza feels about it yet, but I have a feeling she knows, too.)

The next day, Simza, Jane, Watson and I, were sitting at a restaurant, waiting for Holmes. It was just as I had imagined it to be, and the food was delicious. I had never tasted anything so good, but the longer time passed, the more anxious I got. Jane was sitting across from me, eating a small piece of baguette, picking it up with her fingers. She didn't care that she was getting butter all over her fingers. In fact, she was licking it off. I didn't bother to remind her to use a napkin.

"Where is he?" I asked, looking around inconspicuously, but I couldn't spot him anywhere.

"He's twenty minutes late," Watson said while looking at his pocket watch.

"He must come soon, I don't have any papers," Simza said, nervously.

"And we're foreigners. This climate is exactly what Moriarty wants," Watson added, pointing at himself, Jane and I.

"I'm sure he's just fine," said Jane, setting the baguette down onto her plate and then taking a sip of her tea, only to make a face. "I wish I had gotten the coffee instead," she muttered, then added, "Probably just got distracted."

She nodded to me reassuringly, just as we heard someone clear their throat. I looked up and saw Holmes carrying a tray which he set down on the table. I almost sighed out loud with relief.

"The Omlete fino is devine. But they spared every expense on the tea." He came to sit next to me, giving me a quick peck on the cheek, which Jane didn't fail to notice, then looked up at me and the others. "Now, should we compare movements or consider what we know. Last night's bombing was clearly meant to look like Germany's retaliation for Strasbourg. However, the bomb was meant to conceal the murder of just one man. The man killed by the gunshot was none other than Alfred Meinhardt." Watson stared at him, wide eyed, while Jane, Simza and I looked at the two of them, confused.

"He makes guns. Big guns!" Watson explained and I nodded.

"Only days ago, a large share of his company was bought by an unknown investor." Holmes informed.

"Moriarty," I said and Holmes nodded.

"The clues point to one direction, to avoid repeating last night's debacle, I was obliged to collect more sufficient data, hence my tardiness." Holmes said and he went on to explain that he had followed Moriarty and Sebastian and that Moriarty was about to leave by train but asked if he had enough time to indulge his habit.

"He's habit is feeding that urban species the feral pigeon. So, there are seven mainline railway stations in Paris. But...taking ten minutes to get to Jardin des Tuileries where the largest concentration of winged vermin maybe found, reduces that to one The Gard du Nord, where he will be just in time to catch the eleven oh four train to Berlin. It makes several stops along the way, one of which is..."

"Heilbronn," I stated.

"Exactly, where we must go," Holmes said.

"Where Meinhardt's factory is." Watson added, with a smirk.

"Moriarty's factory now. Unfortunately, due to the bombing, the crossing between France and Germany is to be closed. I'm afraid our pursuit is over, unless we can happen upon a comrade who know their way around the borders," Holmes said and he looked pointedly at Simza who looked back at him with a curious expression of her own, then smiled.

"Too English," Simza said to Watson as she pulled off his bowler hat and hands him her tattered hat and she places the bowler on her head.

"However you do make a fantastic gypsy," I said and Simza nodded.

"I smell like a fantastic gypsy," Watson muttered as he looked at his dark overcoat. Jane laughed a little.

"Now, now...no need to be demeaning," Holmes said as we walked along the forest towards the gypsies who had horses ready and loaded.

The man, who took Watson's scarf the other day, whose name was Tamas, handed the scarf back to Watson. "It is a nice scarf."

Watson looked at it then turned to Holmes and I then back to Tamas. "Too English. It'll suit you more." He smiled and nodded at Watson, then we walked to the horses. I was taken back to my childhood, when we used to visit my grandmother's stables, that was before Grandfather went off to war and she came to live with us.

It was one of my fondest memories of her.

"Black one is yours," Simza said to Watson as she pointed to the black horse. "The grey one is mine, the brown one is Jane's, and this is yours," She said to me and Holmes as she pointed at another horse.

"Ah, hmm, right. Where are the wagons?" Holmes asked.

"The wagon's too slow. Can't you ride?" Simza asked as a horse makes a grunting noise at Holmes, who looks at the creature in disgust and something along the lines of fear.

Watson chuckled, and Simza looked over at him for an explanation. "It's not that he can't ride. How is it you put it, Holmes?"

"They're dangerous at both ends and crafty in the middle. Why would I want anything with a mind of it own bobbing about between my legs?" Holmes replied and he turned around as Watson and Jane chuckled some more, like it was some sort of inside joke. I paid no attention. "I shall require a bicycle, thank you very much. It's 1891, I've chartered a balloon."

There was no way that was going to work. "You'll be easily spotted in a balloon. Aren't we trying to go incognito?" But he had already gone off.

Simza looked at him, eyebrows raised, then looked at Watson, who shrugged, then over at me. "How can we make this more manageable?" I asked her.

Later, the four of us, along with Simza and her crew rode along in the forest on full grown horses and Holmes brought up the rear on a pony.

"Where's the fire?" he asked, speaking to no one in particular. "It's not as if Germany's going somewhere." I stopped for a moment as the others went a little further ahead, glancing over my shoulder and smiled.

"Having trouble, are we?" I teased. "Are you feeling bad because you didn't want to ride with me, or because my horse is bigger and faster than your horse?" His frown turned into a grin as he urged the pony to go faster. I did the same and soon enough, it had turned into a race. At one point, he managed to pass me, grinning over his shoulder.

"Do you taste that, Charlotte? That's my dust!" He taunted, laughing as he sped up.

"How do you know that I'm not letting you win?" I asked, flicking the reins.

I was going so fast, it felt like I was flying, that is until slipped, landing on the ground, flat on my back.

"Charlotte?" He carefully got off the pony and knelt down next to me, but smiled with relief when I started laughing and helped me to stand.

I was too busy having fun, that I didn't notice Watson looking over at us with a fond smile of his own.

But the good mood didn't last long, at one point, during our travels we hit a dead end. The border crossings on both sides were closed and people seemed pretty upset about it. How were we going to get across with troops patrolling all sides? I looked to Jane and she sighed, shaking her head.

"We know another way." Simza said and she steered her horse around and the we continued on while Holmes had a disgruntled look on his face as he steered the pony. I shook my head and chuckled.

"I can't believe we're going to Germany!" Jane said, looking over at me.

"We're not here to have fun, we're on official business," I said, trying to hide my own excitement.