My mind was blank. It was cloudy and full of thoughts and images I couldn't make out. Everything in my mind was scrambled, and I was unable to put them in correct order so that I could sort it all out. It took all the energy I had to try and figure out what happened and where I was, but not one logical thought would place itself within my mind. It was as if my mind was stuck in vertigo

I tried opening my eyes and quickly regretted it, seeing as how that small action made my head ache immensely. I slowly moved my hand and placed it over my eyes, which felt like it had been doused with an great amount of sea water, a tiny groan escaping my lips in the process. The movement caused me to feel the soft material that I was currently resting on. It was rather soft… it was satin. No, maybe silk. Possibly both.

"I think… finally coming…"

For the first time since my consciousness had decided to return, I heard a voice. All I was able to find out was that this person was definitely male, but an unfamiliar one as far as I knew. It was hard sine I wasn't able to make out much of anything. It was as if a thick cloud was surrounding my head and blocking off all of my senses. It irritated me greatly that I was unaware of the situation I was in and, basically, helpless. The only thing I could do was hope and pray that I was in no potential danger and no harm would come to me.

I slowly slipped my hand off my eyelids and laid it on top of my stomach. Suddenly, a warm, gentle hand was placed on the left side of my head, two fingers being placed upon the flesh on my neck, right above my collar bone. I quickly came to the conclusion that he must be checking my pulse rate. If not, then I would have to wake up soon and reprimand this person for putting their hands on me.

"Good news. Her pulse rate is back to normal."

"That is wonderful news, indeed," a new voice piped up.

'Back to normal? What happened to me?'

The hand that was previously at my neck now moved to my forehead, pulling the bangs out of my face in the process, probably checking to see if I had contracted any illnesses from… whatever it was that had happened to me.

"She does have a temperature. Nothing too serious, though."

I stirred slightly from underneath the silk-blend sheets I was currently encased in. It was rather hard to do, and even though I had to do it slowly, I managed to open my eyes almost halfway. I was surprised that I was even able to open it as far as I did.

"Finally awake, I see," the voice I had been listening to announced. My eyes slowly looked to the right, finally getting a good look at the unidentifiable man sitting in a chair that was next to the bed I was currently occupying.

The first thing I was able to notice was his light blue eyes. Concern and kindness was evident in his crystal irises. His jaw line was very defined and sharp. His hair was short and a light shade of brown. A small mustache graced the space in between his upper lip and his nose. He was a very handsome man, indeed. He was dressed in a crisp, white pinstriped shirt with brown braces that were slung over his shoulders. As my eyes traveled lower, I was able to see the grey trousers that were being held up by the braces. I watched the small smile that graced his lips as he watched me examine him from head to toe.

"Where am I?" I tried to ask, but it came out very raspy and scratchy from the abundance of sleep that I had seemingly received.

"There is no need to worry yourself, Madame. You're safe here with us."

'With us? So there's more than one…'

"How can I be certain of that, Sir? I mean," I slowly hoisted myself up on the soft mattress, resting my back on the headboard, closing my eyes in the process, "I haven't the faintest idea of where I am or who you are. For all I know, you could be a serial killer who has kidnapped me and is feigning innocence while carefully and secretly plotting my demise," I finished, focusing my gaze back to the man, who had a inquisitive look on his face.

"Of course, that is only one, possible theory," I finished, a blasé expression on my face and a small smirk playing at the corner of my mouth.

"Well, it seems she's figured you out, Watson," an amused voice said from the other side of the room. The man, who I now assumed was 'Watson,' rolled his eyes before directing his attention back to me. I wanted to turn around and see who the voice belonged to, but I feared any sudden movement would send me into comatose state.

"I assure you, Milady, I am a professional and certified doctor. Nothing more, and nothing less," he replied, his hand gently took a hold of my chin so that I could look at him. He brought up his other hand and moved it in front of my face. Naturally, I followed his finger as he moved it around slowly at first, then speeding up the movements. My brows furrows as I tried to keep up, but I found it an increasingly difficult task to complete, which irritated me greatly. I pulled away and rubbed my eyelids with my index and thumb finger.

"Your pupils are slightly dilated… you could barely keep up with my finger," the doctor mused quietly. He reached for my cheek, and I instinctively pulled away from his reach. I rubbed my cheek and was surprised to feel a sharp stinging sensation at the spot. I lightly ran two fingers against the spot, wincing when I came in contact with the more sensitive spot. 'Why is there a bruise on my cheek? How did this happen?'

"I'm not going to hurt you," he reassured me soothingly. I exhaled softly, placing my hand in my lap and leaned forward, allowing him to continue with his examination. "I just want to check something…" He reached for me cautiously this time, one warm hand carefully holding the left side of my cheek while the other felt around my forehead, which caused me to wince in response. He took notice to this as he slowly traveled from my forehead to my scalp. I quickly withdrew and let out a small groan when his hand landed on a particularly sensitive spot.

"I apologize. You have a rather large lump on your scalp, and a small incision at your hairline. Madame, would you mind telling me your name?"

"My name… my… I'm…" I narrowed my eyes as I stared back at the doctor, my mind completely blank. I looked down at my hands, unable to comprehend what was happening to me at that moment.

'What in the world is wrong with me? Why can't I remember something as simple as my own name? What happened to me? Why is it that I cannot remember a single event prior to me being here? And the lump the doctor noted… was I attacked or something? That has to be the only explanation…"

"Just as I suspected. The fact that you are unable to divulge your name proves my theory. You have a rather sever case of amnesia brought on by blunt trauma to the head…"

The doctor's words strayed and his eyes found their way to my stomach as I immediately wrapped my hand around the grumbling organ. "Sorry," I muttered softly.

"No need to apologize. It's to be expected," he replied, standing up straight and starting towards the door. "I'll be back with something for you to eat. Maybe with a full stomach, you'll be able to remember something."

"How can I be sure that it won't be poisoned?" I asked sarcastically. I heard him chuckle before leaving the room and closing the door behind him.

I let out a sight, closing my eyes and resting my head against the pillow I was previously laying on. I wasn't particularly scared, but I was definitely on edge. From what I have gathered, I was attacked, bludgeoned over the head, and now I cannot remember anything prior to my current situation. I'm in a house with a man I do not know and, quite frankly, wasn't entirely sure I could trust. He seemed to mean well, but I've learned from the past that looks can be very deceiving.

"You have nothing to worry about," a voice spoke from the other side of the room, and I jumped in surprise. I had forgotten about the other gentleman who was currently occupying the room with me. Lifting my head off the bed completely, I sat up and swung my feet off of the bed. It was then that I noticed I was wearing a white long sleeved shirt and a pair of black trousers which were being held up by a pair of braces. Although I could not remember anything before now, I was pretty certain that I did not have on this outfit before.

Slowly hopping off the bed, it took me a little more effort than it normally would to steady my footing. Shaking my head to stop the wave of dizziness that had overcome me, I began walking towards where I suspected the voice was coming from. My feet could be heard lightly tapping on the wooden floor. "How can I prove that statement to be true, I wonder?"

"Well, in your case, I would rely on Women's Intuition," he replied as I turned around a corner in the room and came face to face with who I assumed was the doctor's flat mate. He was previously reading the newspaper, but he lowered it upon my arrival, focusing all his attention on me. I could see him inspecting and deciphering me as I did the same to him.

He was much different in appearance than the doctor. Whereas the doctor looked very clean cut and tidy, this man's whole appearance was in disarray. His shaggy black tresses were unkempt and looked as if it hadn't seen a comb in quite a while. His jaw line was fairly sharp, and I could tell that he was well in need of a shave, seeing as how his face wore a rather thick layer of black and grey stubble. I couldn't see the color of his eyes from where I stood, but it looked like it was a dark shade of grayish brown. I watched cautiously as his inquisitive eyes observed my being. I took that time to take notice to his attire. He wore his shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the first couple of buttons opened. His trousers were a darker shade of grey than the doctor's, and the braces hung lazily at his sides instead of on his shoulders where they belonged.

"And what if my intuition is not enough?" I asked, continuing our previous conversation.

He spared me one last glace before directing his attention back to the paper that was in his hand, "Then I guess you would have to rely on your deductive reasoning skills."

I looked at him for a little while longer before turning around. I was about to go and lie back down when he spoke once again.

"Your name is Rosemary McClaire."

I turned back around to face him, clearly interested in what he had to say. "How do you know my name?"

He folded the paper that he was reading and placed it on the table before standing up from the chair he was sitting in. Grabbing something off the coffee table that was next to him, he slowly approached me and outstretched his palm. In it was a shiny, gold, round contraption.

"A pocket watch?" I questioned.

"I found this on you after we brought you back here. Your surname is engraved on the inside. It isn't at all common for women to carry around pocket watches, so I'm pretty sure that it is a family heirloom of some sort," he said, holding the watch and carefully turning the dial on the top. After a few seconds, it clicked open. He outstretched his palm to me once again, and I took the watch out of his hand. I opened it and disregarded the intricate designs as I focused on the engraved letters on the metal lid: McCLAIRE.

"McClaire…" I read, mostly to myself. I didn't even notice that the man had left until I saw him walking back towards me, a small piece of paper in hand.

"This was found on you as well, which is how I discovered your birth name." He handed me the little white paper and I handed him back the watch as I opened the letter and read the contents.

Rosemary,

I have went out to town to run a few errands. I wish to speak with you when I return.

I read the words over a few more times, hoping that it would stir some kind of memories for me. I walked around the room a bit, closing my eyes and focusing hard.

'Rosie, don't you know better than that…'

'Miss Rosemary, your Mother would like to have a word with you.'

'Miss McClaire, a great pleasure to finally meet you…'

'My dear Rosemary, you're even more beautiful than I thought you were.'

"Were you able to remember anything?"

I opened my eyes as I heard the stranger's voice again. I turned towards where he was now seated on the couch, a violin and bow in his hand. He was sprawled across the couch, one leg lazily hanging over the armrest as the other rested on the floor.

"I'm certain that this is indeed my name. I can recall hearing people say it, but that's about it," I replied, folding the letter and placing it back on the table. At that moment, the doctor came back in the room with a maid right behind him. He held a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, sausages and toast in his hand while the maid carried a tray with a pitcher of orange juice and a teapot with teacups.

"I hope this will be enough," he said as he handed me the plate of food. The maid placed the tray on the coffee table that was next to me.

"It's more than enough. Thank you." I sat nest to the coffee table and bit off a piece of bacon.

"What about me, old chap? Did you bring something back for me as well?" the man on the couch asked.

"Get your own food!" the doctor replied as he sat across from me and poured himself out a cup of tea.

The man on the couch sighed and called over the maid. "Agnes, would you mind bringing me up a plate of food? I would appreciate it greatly."

"Of course," the maid replied quickly before leaving the room to fetch the food. The man then placed the violin underneath his chin and began playing a strange tune. It was unorganized and his movements were not sharp, which made the sound irritating to the ears.

"Must you practice that now? Couldn't it wait until I was out of sight?"

"How do you expect me to perfect the skill if I do not practice, Watson?" the guy retorted. I looked in between both of them, taking note of their behavior.

"So… you two are brothers?"

"Why yes we are!" replied the violinist.

"Of course not!" replied the doctor. I furrowed my brow, now confused by their contrasting responses.

"We are not related by blood-"

"Thank the Lord!" the Doctor exclaimed.

"But we might as well be. Brothers by bond, that's what I would call it," replied the black haired man with a small grin. I watched as the doctor rolled his eyes and direct his attention back towards me.

"By any chance, were you able to recall your name?"

"I couldn't at first, but he told me," I said as I gestured to the man on the couch. "After thinking it over for a while, my memories, well, the ones I could remember, at least, confirmed it. It's Rosemary McClaire."

"I see. This is a problem, indeed. Usually, those who suffer from amnesia lose their memories for a short amount of time, but you might not be able to remember anything for a few weeks. Possibly months."

"Why do you say that?"

"According to where those lumps on your head are, the attackers struck you on two parts of your brain. A portion of your frontal lobe and majority of your temporal lobe were affected from the blow, and those are the two regions which hold all your memories. The fact that you couldn't remember your name alone proves my theory," the Doctor explained.

'That's terrific. As if I wasn't already in a terrible predicament. Now this just tops the bloody cake.'

"Speaking of names," I spoke up, wanting to change the subject, "you both happen to know my name before I even knew yours. So… is it possible that I could be informed of the names of my rescuers, or possible assailants?" I asked as I took a bite of toast.

The doctor smirked before outstretching his hand to me. "I'm Doctor John Watson."

I shook his hand and nodded, looking towards the other man after I released the doctor's hand. He wasn't looking at me then, we was looking out the window at something I couldn't see.

"Excuse me."

He looked towards me again, an expression on his face that I couldn't read. "Yes?"

"Would you mind telling me your name?"

"No, of course not."

I waited for him to continue, but he didn't say anything after that. "Then what is it?"

"What is what?" he asked, seemingly confused. I furrowed my brows at his response. Is he serious?

Watson, as I now knew him as, sighed and rubbed his temple with his hand before gesturing to the irritating man. "This, unfortunately, is my very strange, very odd business partner and friend, Sherlock Holmes."

Holmes placed down the violin and bow, then proceeded to walk in front of where I sat. I looked up at him as he stared down at me. After a few seconds, he outstretched his hand, which caused me to raise a curious eyebrow.

"Pleased to meet your acquaintance, Milady." I willingly grabbed his outstretched hand and shook it.

"The pleasure is all mine… I suppose."