A/N: Again, thank you for all of the support! You guys make me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It's wonderful to get reviews from authors whose stories I've read and loved. I don't know if I mentioned it, but this was my first Holmes fic, so this is all very nice.

I should not like to take that cab ride again. The cab was fairly flying through the streets and bouncing terribly. I counted at least three times that we were only on two wheels at a turn.

I jumped out before the hansom came to a full stop in front of our rooms and rushed up the stairs. I threw open the sitting door, only to stop in dismay.

I was convinced I had beaten Watson back, judging from the speed my cabbie was going. Unfortunately, it was just the opposite. Watson must have just beaten me back for he was still hanging his coat and hat on the rack. He looked up when I made my hasty entrance, only to cock an eyebrow inquiringly.

I stopped in my tracks, brain working furiously to come up with an excuse. "Is there a Mr. Holmes here?" I finally spluttered, still breathing heavily from my dash up the stairs.

"Yes," Watson said flatly. "I believe he is standing in front of me, in a fake beard and mustache."

My stomach plummeted at his last remark. I searched his features for signs of anger, but could find none. He turned to limp towards the fireplace. I stepped forward tentatively, hoping not to induce his wrath.

"How long did you know?" I managed to choke out.

To my relief, he wore a slightly amused expression on his face when he turned to face me. "It took me rather longer than it should have, actually. I was certainly suspicious of a man who sat in my waiting-room for two hours, but I didn't see that it was you until the drunk man came in."

I winced slightly at this. I thought I had been clever with my position in the back of the room, and had hidden myself quite well. Apparently not. But how had he recognized me when the drunken man came in?

Before I could put the question to him, he continued. "Don't worry, Holmes, your disguise was rather good. I wouldn't have recognized you had that man not punched me. A mere patient of mine would not dash across the room at the first sign of danger." He smiled wryly here. "My suspicions were only confirmed when you followed him out the door. That and no one has quite the same nose as you, Holmes."

I was a bit put-out, not only at his discovering my identity, but that he had seen me behave very vulnerably.

"I'm sure I'm touched by your concern, Holmes," Watson continued "But there was really no need to check up on me."

I scoffed at that. "No need? You are likely to keel over any moment now!" I stepped forward to help him to a seat, but he withdrew and glowered at me.

"Holmes, really, I'm quite well."

"Watson, you look worse than some of your patients!"

He was about to respond when he suddenly swayed on his feet and put a hand up to his head. I rushed forward and put a hand under his arm, but he stayed on his feet, albeit a little unsteadily.

He did not protest this time when I pushed him towards the settee, but his lips thinned at my fussing. He fell on to the cushions and lay rather too limp for comfort with his face in the pillow.

"Watson." I said a little concernedly.

He rolled over to face me, giving me a weak glare. "Come now, Watson," I said sharply, my patience thinning. "Stubbornness does not become you."

He attempted to give me another glare, but stopped midway when he paled considerably and grasped at his stomach.

"Watson." I said, bit more gently. "How long have you been ill?"

"I don't know for sure." He replied hoarsely. "I could have contracted it at any time this week."

"You do think it is scarlet fever, then?"

"Yes," he responded weakly. "I think I may have gotten it from that little girl last night- this morning, rather." He added after a moment of thought.

"Do you mean to say you were at a patients house in the middle of the night?"

"Well, yes, Holmes, I am a doctor. There are certain things we have to do."

"Neglecting one's health isn't possibly one of those things, is it?" I snapped.

"I am not neglecting my health! I'm perfectly fine."

"Yes, indeed." I drawled. "Tell me what you did yesterday."

Watson looked as though he might resist, but gave up when he sneezed violently.

"I walked to my practice in the morning. Yes, Holmes, walked. The day was much the same as you saw this morning, though I felt much better than I do today. I ended rather late, due to the large number of patients."

"When?" I asked.

"Near five. I took a cab to St. Mary's, and worked there for probably four fours. I had just left the hospital when a man approached me. He had a little girl who was sick, so I followed him back to his house, if you could call it that. It wasn't located in the best part of town, if you know what I mean. No, Holmes, nothing happened. " He added when my eyes narrowed.

"The girl was rather sick," he continued. "It wasn't until early this morning, maybe five, that I could get her to a stable condition. I didn't have any money left for a cab, so I walked to my practice. I arrived at near-"

I cut him off with a sharp motion of my hand. "You mean to stay you stayed up all night with a patient, and then walked all the way to your practice?"

"What would you have me do? I didn't have any money," Watson asked irritably.

"Return here, for heaven's sake!" I half-shouted. "You couldn't possibly expect to work two days in a row and not feel any after effects!"

"Holmes, I am fine."

"No, Watson, you are not. You have scarlet fever and you have over-worked yourself for the past week." I grimaced. This could have been prevented if I had been a bit more observant of Watson.

Watson lay back on the settee wearily and closed his eyes, apparently too tired to argue with me. I fetched him a blanket from my room and poured a glass of water. He opened his eyes in surprise when I threw the blanket over him.

"Thank you." He said in some surprise when I offered him the glass of water.

I pulled my armchair a bit closer to the settee and sat in it. Watson coughed a bit after swallowing the water, but waved me off when I made to rise.

"You know, Holmes, it is worth it all to see the look on the parent's faces when I told them their girl was all right."

"My dear Watson, you are too noble for your own good."

"Truly Holmes. There is nothing more rewarding than curing a patient and telling the news to the patient's loved ones. Then again, there is nothing worse than telling the same group of people that a patient is beyond medical help." He said somberly.

"Then do not make a fellow medical man do the same to me".

He raised his eyebrows. It was a rare occasion indeed when I showed any type of emotion.

"I'll be fine, Holmes."

"I should certainly hope so. I would never forgive you if you left me to pay for a funeral and the whole of the rent."