They sit reading together, Holmes for once reciting aloud for them, eager at having mastered the controls to this strange "computer" device. "...'before the others,' Watson! Apparently there are other persons here, but we are the first to be revived because of our being accustomed to handle new experiences and technology. We are to acquaint ourselves thoroughly with the information here and elsewhere about the historical changes since our time. Specific knowledge with regards to the other individuals located on this ship has also been prepared for us. Once we have mastered all, we are to revive the other persons and ease them into this new world sympathetically. Remarkable!"

So together they begin an intriguing regimen of study, increasing in detail with time. They tour certain sections of the ship curiously, finding lovely quarters not unlike Baker Street equipped for their comfort. H is cautious and wary, but supposes that whether this is a hallucination or not, heaven is certainly a more satisfactory place than he dreamed--to greet him immediately with a mystery to investigate.

The daily instructions ask them after a time to separate, sending W off with a map to elsewhere. The powers that be [who probably progammed this whole assignment into the computers] seem aware that H would like to perform experiments himself, to verify the scientific facts he is being told, and also notice that H is more adept at using the computer to quickly absorb as much information as possible. H and W return at each evening to discuss their activities and dine together. are also happy with their youth, enjoying strolls and relaxing activity together. lovely music is very civilising and comforting.

W murmurs thoughtfully, over wine "I suppose this mustn't be heaven, then, for I would have expected to see my family or my wife by now, if it were. Is there anyone that you expected to see?"

H remains silent and without response other than a shrug. changes the subject

after a few weeks, W is quite late in coming home. he's given dinner separately and informed that H's learning today is to be particularly involved and should not be interrupted. More time for an activity of his choice. Puzzled, but hopes H is fascinated and fine.

H had no appetite for dinner. restless, pacing around. troubled, and waiting for W's return. yet dreading what on earth he should say.

then W at last at the door. H jumps up, rushing to W before catching himself. "Where've you--? I've--I've been waiting for you... Glad you've come."

W smiles at H's incoherence "Are you well? Been cooped up all day, haven't you? I hope that your researches today were intriguing."

"I--um, indeed." sinking down, shrugging.

"Do you feel like a walk or something else to get out of the rooms for a while?"

softly "No."

"Holmes? Is something wrong? At the door, you looked as if you wanted to shake me to be sure I was actually here."

"I've just--I've just read something troubling."

"Have you? I'm sorry." touching his arm. "You know, I've heard troubling things myself these past few days. Epidemics, warfare, senseless hatred, inhuman suffering and illness. Such moving and pitiable tragedy. Will you be all right? Is there anything I can do?"

swallowing "No. Give me time."

"All right." stroking him softly. Then W goes up and finds the dinner untouched. "Holmes, are you sure that you won't try some? I wonder if we can save it for later and reheat it? Let me go see that pantry again." [what he calls a pantry, at least...]

H alone there, sitting still. Breathless. Closing his eyes. As yet uncertain what he will do. Cannot speak it when looking in W's eyes. Lost.

W returns again, sitting near. Touching him with a friendly smile. "In any case, I'm glad to see you again. It was a long day. As much as I can get used to that voice-operated computer showing me instructions and demonstrations about various gadgets and historical developments, this odd environment is not at all pleasing or life-like without you, my dear friend." At H's shifting and looking away, answers: "No, you don't have to respond. It's quite all right. I don't want to make you uncomfortable--despite the recommendations of modern psychology about the healthfulness of releasing emotion! Come, do you mind if I ask that thing to play some music for us? It'll be soothing."

Shaking his head. "No." A breath. "No, I--I'm tired tonight, Watson. I shall go to bed." Rising.

somewhat disappointed "If you wish. Sleep well. Let me know if you need anything." Looking sadly after his departure. As H goes, he hears W call out to the computer, "Please play Holmes's violin composition from last night."

H lies in bed restlessly thinking of W late into the night. Analysing and remembering the things they've been through. Finds himself perusing the [print, book-bound] copies of the canon that came with their rooms. Going through old cases, reminded of moments never recorded, thoughts that he had had and buried softly. Feelings that returned to him even now, sometimes. Unable to figure out how, or even if, he could possibly tell W.

Quite late, hearing the door, H is startled and turns around quickly in bed. Shields his eyes with his hand, as if only at the light.

W peeks in, then halts. "Holmes? I'm sorry, I thought you were asleep. I--I just wanted to check that you were all right."

Turning away again. Swallows. "I'm fine."

"I'm sorry, I'll go..." then notices the open books lying around H on the bed. W blinks "My stories? You're reading them?"

H shrugs

faintly smiling. "A coincidence. I was just reminiscing myself. I wish more of my chronicles had survived, or at least that I could have chosen which of those last were published. One or two were ... personal." [probably 3GAR] W shakes it off with a laugh. "Now we're legendary and Conan Doyle even had claim to us for a time, for his favour in keeping up the pretense of our being active."

H still silent

W shrugs "I suppose you were thinking how much the world has changed since our time." hesitating at the door. "Do you feel hungry now? I could get your dinner, if you wanted..."

"No, I..." shaking his head. "I need..." his voice breaking and faint, having difficulty

"Yes?" W approaches, to listen to his whisper. closer, touching H's shoulders. "What can I do?"

barely audible "I need to be alone."

"Oh." pulling back. "Oh, of course. I'm sorry." rising, retreating to the door. looking back once more. "I'll be in bed, if you..." gives up on it, going out and shutting the door behind him.

H collapses, lying shivering. shuts his eyes, remembering quite a different set of stories that he read today

Later, H goes to W's door, knocking. Knocking again, and fighting not to leave right now.

W answers, blinking, and sees his paleness. "Holmes? What is it?" touching H's face

feels weak. swallowing. H closes his eyes, leaning against the wall.

"Holmes..." tenderly, stepping closer

H still chokes to even find his voice. wordlessly puts his arms about W, clinging to him.

W comforts him, embracing in return. whispers, "I'm here."

his head on W's shoulder. Firm. So real, in this almost illusory world. feels tightly bound to him

a long silence there just outside the door. W caresses him so kindly. wonders what could so upset H, and if they would be able to discuss it. The most upset that H had been since they had revived--and even that had been anger in large part--had come when they had learned about the controversy of genetic engineering, which smacked so much of the arrogant interference and clumsiness of their Creeping Man adventure. H had suspected that they themselves could have been somehow tampered with in this way, causing their regained youthfulness. H was distrustful for days afterward of the information that was given to him by the "benevolent" programmers of the computer. Only time and experiments convinced him to be calm, if suspicious, and to patiently wait to meet other persons whom he could examine to confirm many of their questions.

then, pulling gently away, W draws H toward the sitting-room. "Come," he whispers. "Show me this thing you saw on the computer..."

H sharply stops W, staying by the door.

"What's wrong?"

"Don't," swallowing "Can't."

puzzled. "I shall probably learn it myself eventually, whenever my schedule gets around to that subject. Better to get it over with now, so you don't have to suffer this distress alone..."

shaking his head. "No. No." faint, but urgent

W touches him, stroking his slender hands that tightly hold him here. "Holmes, please just let me, for your sake..."

still refusing, insistent. looks down. "I--I have to tell you, have to..."

W waits. caresses him again, raising H's eyes to meet his.

H's voice not co-operating. choking. and oh, W's touch... H half closes his eyes, aching for more. cannot resist, advancing. H kisses him, so hard.

this kiss, and another. H feels W sink into it with him, full of passion. once more, W pressing H back against the wall. W sighs, "Holmes," breathlessly. caressing

almost like reliving their youth again. a different choice pursued. W releases H enough to head toward the door, pulling him.

H opens his eyes and follows W's lead, into his bedroom. they shut the door behind them.

in bed, embracing and undressing. kissing each other feverishly, all over. H even drew blood with how fiercely he bit W's delicious lips. years of pent desire fired by fulfilment.

H kissing W's warm skin, stroking his legs "I ... shouldn't." pulling away

W holds tight, not letting him go. "You can't kiss me like that and leave." draws H closer again.

H keeps hesitating. "Is it--is it real?" meeting W's eyes. "These past weeks we've lived in isolation, without human, let alone feminine company of any sort. Perhaps you are only missing your wife?"

"My wife?" pulls H closer, caressing his face "I've lived well enough without feminine company, let alone my wife, quite often." kissing. "Did you never think why I spent all my time chasing after you?"

H blinks "We were more polite then. We never talked about the things ... we didn't do."

"Couldn't do." W strokes H's hair. "I don't give a damn about that now, and it isn't just that there's no one here to know. This is my second life with you. We'll worry about the rest when the troupe of people revive." prompts H to continue

sighs, kissing. "We won't have to worry so much." H whispers

W not really hearing, just responding in sighs and moans. repeatedly kissed H's hands and fingers lovingly. H learned how much tenderness, in previously untried ways, that W could express to him.

H kisses him. "I've wanted to do that to you since you came home."

W blinks, feels H's ardent caress. another kiss, then returned. W half-smiled, "I have too, since you came home--in 1894."

laughing kiss "Lazy scoundrel! Must I do everything for you?"

"You!" most passionate kiss, entangling again

with an idea, H climbs out of bed

W sits up "Where are you going?"

"Where are your books?" H rifles the shelf and comes back with one of W's set of the canon.

"I don't quite feel like reading now."

H ignores W, still flipping pages "Aha!" pointing "If you knew that long, then why dammit didn't you react to this?"

reading the passage and laughing "We were in the middle of a case, just then."

"Story of our lives. A little initiative on your part would have helped. You were willing to break in and enter in front of a Scotland Yard inspector; you could at least have spiced up one of our all-night vigils with an illegal kiss."

"And shorten our romance with a stay in gaol?" W pulled H into his arms again.

"Increase it." deep kiss