Chapter 10

The next morning was full of simplicities, morning tea, violin music, and conversation, until Mrs. Hudson invited them down for lunch.

Sitting side by side, their legs touching for the simple purpose of being able to feel it, they ate together contentedly.

It was out of complete coincidence that John looked into the mirror on the wall and let out a gasp. "Sherlock." He pointed to their reflections. Beside Mrs. Hudson's own, theirs appeared to be fading.

She smiled, understanding. "Your time has ended on this plain of existence. You have found each other, and in turn found yourselves. Now it's time for me to say goodbye." She said with a small, sad smile. "Good luck, boys. Good luck on the other side."

John and Sherlock captured each other in a searing kiss. It was the last thing she got to say to them before they disappeared completely.

…

John was limping along Baker Street, looking for 221B, and found it just as a black cab pulled up at the kerb. Sherlock climbed out just as he knocked at the door. In this brief moment, he felt a bit of déjà vu hit him. It felt like he'd been here before. As if he'd used to call this place home.

"Hello." Sherlock called out to John, then leaned through the window of the cab to hand the driver some money. "Thank you."

John turned towards him as he walked over. "Ah, Mr. Holmes."

"Sherlock, please." He replied briskly as they shook hands.

John looked up at the building once more. "Well, this is a prime spot. Must be expensive."

"Oh, Mrs. Hudson, the landlady, she's giving me a special deal. Owes me a favour." He shrugged. "A few years back, her husband got himself sentenced to death in Florida. I was able to help out."

The former military man looked shocked. "Sorry, you stopped her husband from being executed?"

"Oh no. I ensured it." He replied with a devilish grin.

Just then the door opened, a sweet older woman opened her arms to Sherlock. "Sherlock, hello." She said with a smile.

Much to John's surprise, Sherlock turned and walked into her arms, hugging her briefly, then stepped back to present John to her. "Mrs. Hudson, Doctor John Watson."

The lady, Mrs. Hudson, smiled at John. "Hello."

The former military man returned her smile. "How do?"

She beckoned them inside. "Come in."

"Shall we?" Sherlock asked her.

She replied with a smile, "Yeah."

So the two of them went inside and Mrs. Hudson shut the door behind them. Sherlock hurried up to the landing, where he paused to wait for John to hobble up after him. As John reached the landing, Sherlock opened the door to the flat. John walked in behind him, observing all of the boxes and odds-and-ends strewn about. And even in this clutter, is struck with another moment of déjà vu. It seems like home to him for some reason. He tries not to frown. He succeeds as he comments, "Well, this could be nice. Very nice indeed."

"Yes. Yes, I think so. My thoughts precisely." Sherlock looked about the flat happily. "So I went ahead and moved in."

At that very moment, John had continued, "Soon as we get all this rubbish cleaned out…oh." He had just realized what Sherlock had said. Embarrassed a bit, he paused, then said, "So this is all…"

"Well, obviously I can, um, straighten up a bit." He looked uneasy, as if he weren't used to company, but he walked across the room and made a half-hearted attempt to tidy up, throwing a few folders into a box and using a knife to hold a stack of unopened letters against the mantelpiece.

John eyed an odd object on the mantelpiece nearby. "That's a skull."

"Friend of mine." Sherlock replied. "When I say friend…" He trailed off, which left John to his own assumptions. For some reason, that didn't bother him too much.

He was glad, however, when Mrs. Hudson entered the room, picking up Sherlock's cup and saucer as Sherlock took off his coat and scarf. "What do you think, then, Doctor Watson? There's another bedroom upstairs if you'll be needing two bedrooms." She had a small smile on her face, almost as if she had a secret she was keeping to herself.

"Of course we'll be needing two." Came John's reply. It wasn't appalled, thought it was shocked, as if he hadn't even considered the idea.

Mrs. Hudson continued to smile. "Oh don't worry; there's all sorts round here." Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper. "Mrs. Turner next door's got married ones." John looked to Sherlock then, expecting him to confirm that the two of them were not involved, but Sherlock appeared to be oblivious to what had been insinuated. Mrs. Hudson walked across the room to the kitchen, then turned back and frowned at Sherlock. "Oh, Sherlock, the mess you've made."

As she began to tidy up the kitchen, however, she began to smile. As she listened to the two men converse about Sherlock's blog, she thought about how she'd rented out the very same apartment to ghosts in the past. There wasn't any shame in keeping it from them, the fact that she was a very experienced psychic. She was just surprised Sherlock hadn't deduced it by now. Perhaps it was because he was so focused on science. He couldn't see the point of anything existing outside of his field of perception. But as she listened to them, she couldn't imagine what it would have been like if they'd met under different circumstances. If she'd had them as ghost tenants instead, and wondered if the beyond would be willing to give their lives a second chance.

Little did she know that it was, in fact, exactly what had happened.

A/N: Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! All thoughts are welcome! Don't forget to click that review button!