Hey readers! So, just to forewarn anyone who could possibly be offended, there are references to homosexuality in this chapter...nothing major, but just wanted to let you all know! Thanks for sticking with me this far, and read and review please! And now with the chapter :)

It's been three weeks since I was thrown back in time to crash into a horse-drawn carriage carrying Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson of Baker Street. And, if I didn't know any better, these past three weeks have been some of the best of my life.

Not only did I finish my paper (it was in the hopes that if I did return, I wouldn't fail out of English completely), but Holmes, Watson, and I were quickly becoming very good friends. Holmes was like the eager professor every student finds during their years of education to discuss scholarly matters with, and Watson was . . . well, kind of like a father figure to me. I could talk to him about anything, related to life and my feelings and whatnot. Ideally, this was the mom department, but Watson was adequate for it.

I'd like to think that my popping out of nowhere into these two men's lives had some positive affect on their relationship. Holmes seemed to smile and laugh more, and Watson was as patient and affectionate towards his friend as ever. Not only that, but I could tell by Holmes's less-depressing demeanor that he'd really been trying to get off the cocaine. I could tell that his uplifted spirits were making him truly happier.

Every morning, I'd become used to waking up to silence. Holmes usually rose earlier than I did, and was in the sitting room puffing away on his pipe in thought. Watson was more like a teenager than I could ever be and woke up much later than any grown man I'd ever known, even later than me. Thankfully, these were the mornings I could have pleasant conversation with Holmes alone, when he seemed the most disposed to discuss things with me that he deemed unnecessary to talk about with Watson.

However, this morning was different. I woke up to uproarious laughter coming from the sitting room. Holmes's barking and Watson's chuckling mingled to make a pleasant melody that made me smile. I dressed quickly, careful of my arm and taking care to shimmy into my corset (I'd pre-tied it so Mrs. Hudson wouldn't have to lace it up every morning), and joined the pair of men in the sitting room.

Watson was sitting on the sofa, buried in his newspaper while grinning widely at Holmes, who was standing by the window, his nose almost pressed to it. I entered quietly, but somehow both men could hear me. They turned, almost looking surprised to see me.

"Good morning, gentlemen," I greeted with mock gentility.

Dr. Watson caught on and stood up to bow ridiculously low. "Good morning, Miss Ray. 'Tis a fine day today; the pigeons are cooing and the horses are trotting ever so nicely."

"Ha, never thought pigeons could make for a great day!" I giggled. I turned to Holmes, who was staring at me with a small smile on his lips. "What were you guys laughing at? I swear Inspector Lestrade could've heard you from the Yard with your volume!"

"Holmes was in the mood to play a practical joke on a young man standing near the dress shop," Watson said.

"It was for the sake of experimentation, Miss Ray, not my own personal whims!" Holmes added.

I rolled my eyes at Holmes. "Uh huh, right. What did you do to the poor man?"

Dr. Watson seemed more than willing to tell me what had happened. In fact, he looked like he would burst at the seams with excitement and eagerness. "Well, that man has been standing in front of the dress shop for . . . at least ten days now, hasn't he Holmes?" After receiving a nod from Holmes he continued. "And Holmes had deduced that due to certain tendencies of his behavior, he rather favored the love of . . . the same sex . . . as he." Watson said this somewhat uncomfortably. Who would've thought; gay men in Victorian England! I had no qualms with this, since there were certainly gay people at my school.

"Go on," I urged.

"So, Holmes employed on of his Irregulars . . . was it Scott, Holmes? Yes, he is the oldest of the Irregulars, thus he seemed more fitting for his role in Holmes's guise. Holmes gave him five shillings to run across the street and, well, flirt with the man. Mind you, Miss Ray, I was a bit indisposed to the idea, and the poor boy certainly seemed unwilling as well. But you know Holmes; he could persuade a mouse to run into a mousetrap." He gave Holmes an ironic smile, which was received with a glare. Watson chuckled and went on. "Today was the day by which the man would be tested, so to speak. Scott ran across the street, tapped the young man on the shoulder, and made various gestures that implied flirtation. We could see his lips moving as well, and the two of them seemed to be in deep conversation. Well, after about ten minutes, the man whom we were jesting with advanced upon poor Scott, quite unexpectedly."

"What? What did he do?" I asked worriedly. This joke was starting to sound like a prank jocks were expected to play on unsuspecting nerds who didn't know any better. Watson glanced at Holmes, who avoided his gaze. He seemed reluctant to continue; thus, it wasn't too hard to piece together what happened.

"Oh my God, he kissed him?! He did, didn't he?!"

Holmes began to chuckle lightly. "I did not expect my deductions to strike the bulls-eye with such accuracy! Considering it concerned matters of one's orientation, which I believe Watson to be much more capable of understanding than myself."

I couldn't believe my ears. These two grown men decided to torment a child and throw him in the way of some random guy they've been spying on, which, in my mind, sounded like handing a child to a pedophile. I stood up, absolutely furious.

"Are you kidding me? How could you do that to some poor boy? Are you seriously adults? Because to me you look like freaking three year-olds right now!" I screamed.

Holmes looked taken aback at my outburst. Watson was almost trembling visibly in his seat, clutching at his newspaper.

"I thought Victorian men, educated and enlightened men, were supposed to have morals! No, instead, you choose to act like idiots and play a stupid joke on one of your Irregulars, whom I assume to be your friends! I guess all men really are the same: immature and juvenile!"

I stomped out of the room, straight into the kitchen where Mrs. Hudson was scrubbing a pot free of any left over crumbs from breakfast. She turned slightly when I banged the door open, but continued to scrub away. I perched on the counter and watched her, waiting for her to put down the stupid rag and the stupid pot and ask me what was wrong. After five minutes, it didn't seem like she would initiate any conversation, so I cried, "Ugh!"

"Is something wrong, dear?" Mrs. Hudson kept her eyes peeled to the pot, which had been clean for about a minute now.

"Yeah, something is wrong. You wanna know what, Mrs. Hudson?"

"Tell me what's on your mind dear."

I huffed and shook my head violently. "I'll tell you what's on my mind! MEN! Stupid, stupid men!"

Mrs. Hudson put down the rag and turned to face me, an expression of expectant caution on her face. "Oh dear Lord, what did they do now?"

"Oh, I'll tell you what they did!" I leapt off the counter and whispered into her ear the extent of their amusement from the morning. I'd become more careful to watch my conversations, especially when doors were closed. Who knew if Holmes decided to eavesdrop again?

"What utter swine! Unappreciative, cruel fools! I cannot believe they would stoop so low! I'm going to give those two a stern talking-to!" Mrs. Hudson flew from the kitchen, leaving her dirty dishes behind to yell at the two reckless men in her sitting room. I smiled smugly at the door.

She didn't come back for a long time. I didn't want to go up to my room, or else I'd have to walk right into the line of fire; too easy for me to get dragged into the predicament. So, I busied myself with finishing the dirty dishes for Mrs. Hudson as a thank you for telling off Holmes and Watson for me. She would have a sterner affect on them anyway, more than I ever would. As I put some real elbow grease into those plates (seriously, they were messed up), I started to hum a song that I knew from my iPod, but I couldn't remember for the life of me what it was called. It was classical, and it was one of those famous composers that I always mixed up. Damn, the moment where I wanted Holmes to clarify it for me was the moment where I hated his guts. So I quietly sang to myself as the time droned on.

It was at least another half hour before I heard footsteps behind me in the kitchen. I couldn't stop from grinning smugly at the clean dishes stacked before me.

"Did you keep those rascals in line, Mrs. Hudson?" I smirked.

"Oh, that was definitely one of the more colorful conversations we've had with Mrs. Hudson, to be sure," a deep baritone answered.

I froze like a deer caught in headlights. Crap, they knew! They knew I set Mrs. Hudson on them, that I was the reason they were in trouble.

No matter, I told myself. Those dumbasses deserve all form of punishment they got.

I turned around slowly, expecting angry stares to be directed at me, but all I saw was Holmes's calm, indifferent gaze scouring the kitchen. When he fixed his eyes on me, I didn't shrink back afraid. I stood with my shoulders square and tried to look as determinedly stubborn as possible.

"You know you deserve every bit of yelling you got," I said lowly.

"Yes, I'm aware. It was wrong of me to delight in such trivial folly on the behalf of Scott's security. I apologize if the little experiment offended you in any way."

"If it offended me? Seriously?" The words ignited fury. "Of course I'm offended! This is the kind of crap I see pulled on the kids at school who aren't considered 'normal' or 'popular', Holmes. How do you think Scott felt? His trust in you is gonna falter unless you say you're sorry to him too."

Holmes held up a hand, palm facing me. "Rest assured, Miss Ray, I have invited the boy over to dinner tonight, and he has accepted."

"So? That's pretty much bribery and a bad replacement for an apology. You have to say it Holmes, and mean it!"

"I don't need to voice it! Isn't it enough that he has willfully promised to come to dinner tonight? Willfully, Miss Ray!"

"Nope! Sorry, Holmes, but people have to hear it every once in a while, not just try and decode it from one's actions," I explained. Holmes still looked firm upon his opinion though. I carefully stepped up to him so we were less than a foot away from each other and looked up into his gray eyes, alight with fire. "See, this is exactly what I was talking about with Dr. Watson. You can't just leave clues everywhere for us to find and piece together what you're saying, or what you mean. We're all human, and we all need verbal expression, even you Holmes!"

The fire was starting to waver; I could see it. Holmes broke the eye contact and stared past my shoulder to the window, obviously wanting to avoid me and the fact that I was right. He hated being wrong in these situations. I felt the impulse to slap him and scream at him how he was just being a big baby.

He started to shift on his feet and fiddle with his hands. I stepped back a little bit, and his movements ceased for the most part. I waited for him to speak, and eventually he did.

"You're right, Miss Ray. I treated the boy poorly, and he should be apologized to by my own lips," Holmes said begrudgingly, like he was trying with all force to shut his mouth from saying those very words.

I smiled, pleased that he'd accepted his fault rather quickly for such an obstinate man. "See, was that so bad? You look like I just fed you cough syrup!"

Holmes half-smiled and said, "You know, I had many unfortunate experiences regarding cough syrup as a child. I must say that I have been scarred beyond repair."

"No wonder you don't like Dr. Watson treating your illnesses," I mused thoughtfully.

"The man fails to understand that I do have an immune system, which will cure me of all infirmities in due time. But I can't heal when he is attempting to shove tablespoons of that foul liquid down my throat!"

I just burst into laughter at that. So, the great Sherlock Holmes had a fear of cough syrup . . . how ironic that the man wasn't scared of guns, or poisonous animals, or any risky business. But no, when the cough syrup was afoot, Holmes looked like a meek little boy wanting to run from the monsters under his bed! Finally, I could prove that he wasn't perfect!

Holmes eyed me funnily, like I'd gone insane. That only made me laugh harder until I collapsed onto the floor. The paroxysms of humor were unstoppable for the time being, and they drew the attention of Dr. Watson.

"By heavens, Miss Ray! What is all the hilarity about?" Dr. Watson chuckled.

"Oh . . . it's, it . . . it's too good . . . Dr . . . Dr. Watson!" I choked out.

I didn't think I'd be able to stop laughing until I saw a steely look from out of the corner of my eye. Holmes was glaring at me, conveying to me that revealing his weakness would mean bad times for me. Holmes looked rather scary when he wanted to . . . if he couldn't persuade people with his suave manners, he could always intimidate them with his brute force.

"Never mind, Dr. Watson. It really wasn't that great anyway," I mumbled.

Holmes looked rather pleased with himself. When Watson turned his back, I stuck my tongue at Holmes.

"So, shall Mrs. Hudson go down to the market and purchase the components to tonight's feast?" Watson asked with a sarcastic gleam in his eye.

Mrs. Hudson walked in right then, looking no less irritated than I probably did. "Oh no, you two. As part of your punishment, you will be running errands for me today. Don't give me that whining men, I shall not have it! Now, get to it!"

Holmes and Watson filed out the kitchen door like they were marching to their executions. Had they really never done chores before? And did they need to act so childish to simple instructions? God, I never sympathized more with Mrs. Hudson than I did now. How could she stand looking after a pair of grown men who had the behavior capacities of two year-olds?

A/N: Hi! So, I hoped you really liked this chapter, especially since Holmes and Watson get scolded a lot :) that's always fun to read about! But anyways, please review with anything I could've done better! I love hearing from you guys and seeing what I can improve on! No flames, though! Thanks readers!