I do not in anyway own the characters and universes created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle or Laurie R. King. This disclaimer is in use for the fictional work created by "Eccentric75885" during the time that "Twisting Time" is in creation. No profit is being made.

Chapter One

Sussex, England 1923

The Bees seemed livelier today then they had in a long time. "Mrs. Hudson!" the strong call of my husband called out to our dear friend and housekeeper. At the moment I was sitting in the kitchen pouring through yet another catalogue. Lately, Mrs. Hudson had had strong back pains so we, or at least I, had been looking into more modern conveniences for the cottage so that Mrs. Hudson would not have to work as hard. Stoves, sinks, plugs, there seemed to be an array of new items available.

"Mrs. Hudson!" My husband cried out again. No doubt he needed something from her. The woman got up from the table quickly and went to his laboratory. We exchanged a quick smile.

I sat back studying the conveniences. Many things had changed since the time of oil lamps and hansoms. Mrs. Hudson then came back into the kitchen. "The man has set fire to the room!"

"Fire?" I got up.

"Yes," she got some towels and a bucket. "One of those experiments."

"I suppose he needs our help."

"His exact words were, 'Unless my wife is not entranced with the overbearing powers of Hebrew verbs and you are not doing anything of importance then come back with Russell and help me extinguish this dreaded fire!' And, Mary, it was the funniest site I've ever seen!" She grinned merrily at me, her cheeks flushed.

"Is the fire bad, is it spreading?"

"Heavens no. And no thanks to him either! I managed to get some if it our when I went up there, but come now, just to be safe," with that we went up. As we neared the lab, she told me of his disheveled state and how upset he was. He was so upset, she said, that it was funny.

"Holmes, open the door," I cried out.

"Ah, there you are," he coughed, "Russell." A stream of smoke drifted out as he opened the lab door.

"Why on earth don't you have the door open?" He didn't answer. As I glanced about the room I saw that there was no fire. The smoke had come from some sort of tube. A plumber's tool, I later found out. "Mrs. Hudson?" I turned to her. She was smiling a knowing smile. It was then that I noticed she had left the towels and bucket in the kitchen. "Holmes?" I asked.

"Happy Anniversary Russell," he stated and hugged me.

I as, you no doubt will realize, was shocked. An anniversary? He actually took notice to this? "Holmes, I, I," In truth I was at a loss for words.

"Your welcome Russell, oh look at that, Mrs. Hudson as left and closed the door," he said softly.

"Oh," I glanced back, "So she has."

"Now we can work on that experiment I was telling you about," and he pulled away slightly from our embrace.

"Not just yet," I said, and then I kissed him on the lips slowly, as I backed away, he looked at me closely. "Happy Anniversary Holmes."

A moment later, we began looking at the experiment details. The experiment, as Holmes had explained to me in great interest the previous day was one of scientific relativity. "You see Russell, with these reactions, we can explain much about the universe."

"Holmes," I sighed, "Isn't this a bit beyond your normal field of experimentation?"

"Nonsense, I've been working on these particular experiments for decades."

"Oh, and have you come far?"

"Far enough," he said somewhat bitterly.

"Holmes what is it?"

"Nothing, just thinking back to a time when this was the most important thing in the world."

"And now?" I asked.

"And now I wish I could change some things in the past."

He was wishing about his past. In all my years of knowing him, of loving him, I had hardly ever heard of him wish of the past in such a way.

"Holmes, husband, what troubles you?"

"Choices Russell, choices."

"And me?"

He turned back to me, for all along he had been looking intently at a beaker. "I wouldn't change anything about you." With that, we hugged again, and I could tell he no longer regretted the past as much.

The day slowly drifted into night and soon we were sitting downstairs in front of the fire. The weather was normal for mid February, the wind was strong and cold and the snow falling at a steady pace. Mrs. Hudson had gone to bed, after wishing Holmes and I happy anniversary several times and kissing us each on the cheeks quite a few times.

Then, suddenly, I heard a fierce cry. A cry of pain, despair, agony.

"Holmes did you hear that? It sounded like a person." There it was again. It was louder, fiercer, almost as if it were getting closer.

"Nothing, you're sure?" He set down his pipe.

"There it is again!"

"You're positive, that it's a person and not the storm?" He stood up.

"Yes, yes, it's someone outside. We have to help," with that we were soon both dressed in warm coats. In my haste, I left my slippers on. Once the door was open however it was too late. The frigid air clung to my bare ankles and seemingly ate away the skin.

"Do you see anyone?" cried out Holmes above the wind.

"No!" I shouted back, then I glanced out and out of the corner of my eye I saw a large shadow. "There!" I slowly walked over, lifting my legs high above the snow. My feet felt as though they would freeze.

"Russell!" cried out Holmes. I glanced back and suddenly I didn't see him. I didn't see the cottage, the snow, and the shadow. Nothing. Everything was gone. The world had gone black.

"Hello?" I cried out. "Can anyone hear me?" Only the echo of my frightened voice met my ears. The world was black, blacker then night. What had happened? Suddenly a firm object found its place in my gut, I grunted softly and suddenly saw a faint yellow light.

"Hello!" I cried out again. The light was far above my head. What was it? It slowly drifted, down, down, down. The object found its place in my gut at the same spot again. A sharp bolt of pain drifted into my senses. The light was suddenly right before my eyes, dangling back and forth in a mesmerizing way.

Then it too was gone.

On a boat, London, England, 1887

"Murray, look," the small man at the side of the boat pointed down into the water.

"Jesus Christ!" Murry, clad in uniform looked down at the young woman. Her

hair was plastered about her on the water.

"You think she alive?" The small man turned toward the British officer.

"I don't know, but we have to get her out of the water, for if she isn't dead yet she soon will be. Here get the oars."

The two men in the small boat got some oars and slowly pried the unconscious woman out of the water. "Onto the deck, onto the deck," quickly they heaved her onboard.

"She alive?" The small man said in broken English.

"I think so, I can only do so much for her, and we need to get to John's fast."

"John is good, yes."

"Yes he is a good doctor."

"He not expecting you, no?"

"No, not today Hari. Let's pull in here, we're close enough, I'll call a cab, you dry her off, quickly."

221 B Baker Street, London, England, 1887

"I say Holmes this is odd, even for you."

"Watson, Watson, Watson, I just need you to tell me how you feel."

"Holmes I must persist, when you said you needed help in regards toward an experiment I imagined that I would hold bottles or test tubes or record, but this, this," Watson trailed off, a nervous gleam in his eye. Holmes stood calmly holding the two rats.

"Just react normally." Saying this, Holmes took a paintbrush and painted the front left paw of one of the rats. "So we can tell them apart."

"This is ridiculous!"

"Nonsense, if I can discover a similar reaction among men to this, then prisoner interrogation will come to it's peak in success!"

"I think there is a law against this Holmes! You can't possibly do this," Watson persisted. "At least untie my hands and feet!"

"No, sorry, I need to have the full effect!"

"Couldn't you try this on Lastrade or someone, one of the irregulars or something?"

"Later, but it's three in the morning, I wouldn't want to bother anyone!"

Watson rolled his eyes, "Your bothering me Holmes!"

"Am I? So sorry."

Suddenly a sharp knock came at the door. "What is it Mrs. Hudson?" Cried out Holmes.

"Mr. Holmes there are some people to meet Doctor Watson!"

"Well Watson, it seems our little experiment will have to be postponed."

Watson breathed a sigh of relief. "Untie me quickly!"

Quickly, the sitting room was put back to its normal cluttered, untidy way and the two rats were put speedily into Holmes' desk drawer.

"Come in!" shouted Holmes in a furry of excitement as he through the remaining bits of rope behind his chair near the fireplace.

"A Mr. James Murray to see the doctor."

"Murray?" Watson breathed out slowly.

"John! Old fellow it's so good to see you!" Murray entered the room and shook hands with Watson. Hari followed, carrying the young woman.

"What is this?" Watson asked shortly glancing at the small man, obviously from India, both by his garb and skin tone and the young woman he held closely.

"Ah, yes, well we found her floating in the river, and I thought she would require a full medical doctor, I did as much as I could for her, but I didn't have the equipment," Murray explained quickly.

"Oh, to Holmes' room, you don't mind, do you Holmes? Good, place her in their, Holmes would you get my bag, ah thank you." With that Watson followed Hari, and James Murray to Holmes' room.

Authors note: This is my first supernatural/Time Travel thing. Be kind and rewind. ((Winces, yes that was low)) How about this, Be kind and review. Better::grins: This fic doesn't have to do with my other Russell/Holmes fic, which if you haven't read, may grant you some entertainment. Also, I am not very well versed in the Canon dates ((save me!)) so if there are any large, notable, totally unforgivable errors, please, please, please let me know in a kind and courteous way. Yet again, before you go onto read, I realize that there are several time travel stories out on this site. They are all very good! I am a big fan of them all! Great job! However this fictional work does not center on a woman coming from the future and going back to the time of Holmes. ((Shoot, it does!)). All right, let's try this, this fic does not center on a woman coming back to the early Holmes era from around the year 2000. ((Yes, if doesn't!)) :joyous smile:

Also: I sadly do not own Holmes, otherwise I would be leisurely sitting in the Doyle Estate right about now. Anyway, I don't own Holmes, Watson, Mrs. Hudson, Lastrade, or the Irregulars. Also Mary Russell belongs to Laurie R. King. Murray, I suppose belongs to Doyle, even though he is barely mentioned in the beginnings of "A Study in the Scarlet." However, I do own Hari and anyone else who isn't the faintest bit familiar!